FOOLISH OLD WOMAN
BY JAN SIKES
“Come sit with me.” He patted the leather bench beside him.
In silence, I sat while others at the table shifted to make room. Why did I feel so nervous? It wasn’t like I didn’t know these people. Although I have to admit, I didn’t know them well.
I tried hard to remember names that went with the faces.
But, in all honesty, it wasn’t the people who made me nervous. It was him.
Twenty years my junior, tall, slender and handsome with brown eyes that sparkled, I saw no reason for him to have any interest in me.
Oh, I was a looker in my day. I had a slender figure, pert breasts, and round ass, but time has taken its toll. At sixty-five, gravity has sagged my breasts and my once flat stomach has a slight pooch.
He casually draped an arm around my shoulders.
I tried to engage in conversation, but the tingles his touch left on my shoulders distracted me to the point of madness.
When his arm slipped behind me and around my waist, I panicked. He’d feel my flab. I wriggled and sucked in my stomach.
“Let’s go out on the veranda,” he suggested.
Clumsy and flushed, I managed a reply. “Okay.”
I slid off the seat then waited for him. I followed with my heart pounding in my ears. I scolded myself. You’re carrying on like a schoolgirl with her first crush. For God’s sake get a grip.
We strolled out into the cool night air. The moon and stars hung carefree in the black velvet sky and a slight breeze blew the hair back from my face.
Silence wrapped around us like a velvet cloak.
I faced him. “What are you doing?”
“I like you.” He touched my cheek. “You’re not like the others.” He pulled me into the circle of his arms and kissed me.
It wasn’t a tongue-tangling kiss, but a warm and sincere kiss.
“I don’t even know what that means.” I took a step back and drew in a deep breath.
After a long eight years of solitude, I found it hard to believe this handsome forty-something man found me attractive.
“It means that you’re honest. You’re not trying to get anything from me.”
I grinned. “Don’t be too sure about that.”
He pulled me against him and kissed me again.
“Come with me to my place,” I said as I pulled away.
“No.” He caressed my shoulders. “I’ve done that way too many times. I want it to be different with you.”
I spun and walked to the edge of the veranda.
He followed, slipped his arms around me from behind and nibbled on my neck. “You turn me on,” he whispered in my ear as he tightened his hold on me.
I turned around for another kiss only this time, he slipped in his tongue.
My eyes flew open and I lay still barely breathing soaking up the glorious feeling of being wanted, of being desirable.
Then ever so slowly, a hot scalding tear escaped and dripped onto my pillow. Then another and another followed…
“Foolish old woman,” I muttered to myself.