"It's always a pleasure to see you," she heard him say as she 
walked out of the store.  She glanced back at him and smiled, berrating 
herself for what she was thinking.  She was almost forty, she reminded 
herself, and he couldn't be much older than twenty one; why would he 
bother flirting with her?
	Still, she couldn't completely supress the warm glow she was 
feeling as she walked to her car.  He was always especially nice to her 
whenever she came in, but then again she was there every couple of weeks; 
it was her one weakness, shoes, and she liked indulging herself.  That's 
all she was, a regular customer, but he always made sure that _he_ helped 
her with the shoes, and spent a great deal of time chatting with her.  Of 
course she always came in around seven, about an hour from closing time, 
when the store was practically empty....  She smiled at the thoughts 
racing through her mind and shook her head, for a moment concentrating on 
the traffic as she pulled out onto the street and turned her vehicle 
toward the hills and her home.
	He was nice, though, and handsome:  short, dark hair cut into a 
loose flat top, a boyish (of course boyish, he was almost a baby!) face 
with large, deepset eyes, high, almost Americand cheekbones, a sharp 
straight nose, and, as a nice contrast, full lips.  He was slender and 
tall, maybe six feet and one sixty, and had a jerky, shy nervousness to 
him, just below a surface of confidence, which she found, and she 
grimaced at the archaism, fetching.
	This was silly, she thought savagely, and forcefully put any 
thought of him out of her mind.  The remark had been harmless and 
meaningless, nothing more.  She gripped the steering wheel hard for a 
moment and then relaxed, sighing, letting her mind clear.
	Three days later she went to dinner with her friend Dayna, who 
ended up chatting endlessly about her latest beau, a man named Albert.  
Dayna, tall, bleached blonde, and still in good shape--thanks to a 
membership at the local gym and a will to keep fit--at forty, never had 
trouble finding men.
	"And then you know what he wanted?" she asked, leaning forward 
conspiratorially.  "He wanted me to tie his hands together."
	"What," she gasped.
	"Yep, a little bondage for Al.  What a kinky bastard," she 
laughed, a deep, sexy sound.  She paused thoughfully, "We sure had a hell 
of a time, though."
	A silence descended as they both ate, their thoughts wandering 
over what Dayna had just revealed.  She couldn't get the picture out of 
her mind, of a man, his hands tied to the top of the bed, stretched out 
his full length, naked, penis erect and lying against his stomach.  
Slowly the picture in her mind changed, and the man took on the shape of 
the young man who worked in the shoe store.  What was his name, she 
thought as she chewed pensively on a thin slice of chicken.  Tony, she 
remembered, and she saw herself in her mind running a slender hand up his 
thigh as he trembled beneath her.
	"Does your husband know?" she broke in suddenly, disturbing the 
silence with the same question she always asked whenever Dayna found 
herself a new lover.
	"I don't know," Dayna responded with a shrug.  "It's not like I'm 
hiding it.  Anyway, Don's so busy with his twenty two year old tart I'm 
sure he wouldn't care."
	They went back to eating, a sense of jealousy and depression 
settling over her.  Ever since her divorce almost twelve years ago she 
hadn't had a man, and here Dayna was with one too many.  She began to 
elicit more of the gory details from her friend, thinking, bitterly, a 
vicarous life is better than no life at all.
	Back at home she slowly undressed, watching herself in the full 
length mirror.  Unlike Dayna, she was short at five foot one inch, with 
light brown hair falling to her shoulders, a slight curl bringing them 
forward.  A naturally slender body revealed itself as she stepped out of 
her pants and shrugged off her blouse.  No breasts, she thought, 
repeating the phrase she had known since she was forteen and still had 
hope.  Or at least not much, she thought, cupping them fully in her 
hands.  She turned sideways and stuck out her ass, her hands now against 
her lower back.  Well, at least she had always had a nice, rounded ass, 
and, even at thirty seven, good legs.  She sighed and peered at her face, 
remembering she had never been beautiful, just cute, as in "that cute 
girl over there."  Her face was still reasonably smooth, with lines of 
experience giving character to her eyes.  The small nose and mouth and 
large eyes which seem invariably to go with brown hair no longer made her 
cute--she was too old for that--but she wasn't bad looking.
	God she hated herself for this type of self pity.  It seemed 
every few months something would happen and she would have this 
incredible desire for a man's touch, a man's caress, and she would fall 
apart.  She was thirty seven, for god's sake, with a good job at a small 
publishing firm, her looks still intact, and a beautiful home in a great 
neighborhood.  What did she have to complain about?
	Morosely she lay down on her bed and stretched, extending her 
limbs fully.  She lay there naked for a few minutes, feeling the too 
large size of her bed, the emptiness of her room, the echoes in her 
house, and closed her eyes.  Behind them Tony was with her, caressing her 
body as she lay there, his hands following hers as they ran across her body.

	"Hello Terry, it's been a while," Tony said as she walked into 
the store.
	"Work's been keeping me late, so I haven't had time to indulge 
myself.  Got anything new in today?"  she asked, a little embarressed by 
the fantasies she had had about him.
	For the next thirty minutes he helped her and they chatted 
pleasantly about this and that.  She purchased a pair of four inch black 
heels, blushed like a schoolgirl when he said they were "very sexy" and 
would look great on her, and left hurridly.
	Once outside the store she really didn't feel like going home.  
She felt restless and a little silly for her purchase, and decided on a 
drink to calm her down.
	Elgars was a college bar, one of the reasons she avoided it, but 
it was within walking distance and she didn't feel like going far.  It 
was reasonably empty, but she still felt old as she ordered a Samual 
Adams from her table.  She nursed the first one, her mind unfocussed and 
strange, and ordered a second one.  She was still in a funk when a voice 
startled her.
	"Terry," the voice said in surprise, "how are you doing?"
	She looked up and saw Tony standing there, holding the darkest 
beer she had ever seen in his hand.  "O.K.  Just trying to get focused."
	"Mind if I join you?"  He sat as she waved him down, peering at 
him from over her glass.
	"I usually come here after work to unwind a bit.  Just a beer or 
two and I'm ready to go home and relax."
	"Hmm.  Sounds nice.  What's that you're drinking?"
	"Guiness, also known as a meal in a bottle."
	"Dark."
	"Yep."  The conversation ended, and they both sat there sipping their 
beers in the dim lights of the bar, the dark wood of the table, the 
floor, and the walls adding a morose ambiance to the scene.
	"So how was work?" she finally asked.
	"Tiring," he answered, "except for helping you, of course."  He 
smiled gallently and raised his glass.  "That reminds me, I never asked.  
What do you do for a living?"
	"I work for a publishing company.  I'm the liason between the 
authors and our staff."
	"Sounds interesting."
	"It's great.  I love working with people, even all the crazy 
authors, and they are crazy."
	"Really, they can't be that bad."
	"Well..." she began, and found herself talking about some of her 
clients.  She must have gone on for almost a half an hour before she 
became self conscous, but Tony had looked nothing but interested, every 
once in a while breaking in with a story about a crazy customer.
	"Well, enough about that," she smiled, "how about your job?  Do 
you like it?"
	"Hate it. I'm graduating this semester and it's the only thing I 
could get.  I'm going to start interviewing as soon as I'm out of school."
	"That's too bad."
	"Eh, it pays the bills."
	"You don't have anyone to help you?"
	"You mean my parents?  No, I haven't heard from them in a while.  
Eh, so it goes."  He paused, "do you have any children?"
	She almost cringed at the question.  "No," she said softly, "no, 
I don't."  Silence filled the place where the conversation was.
	"I'm sorry," he said, breaking the silence, "I didn't mean to 
upset you."
	"It's okay.  It's just that it was one of the reasons that my 
marriage broke up twelve years ago."
	"That's too bad."  He was muttering innanities now, but they were 
comforting innanities.
	"No, it was good.  He wanted children and I couldn't give them to 
him."
	"You sure it wasn't him."
	"It was me."  She was looking him straight in the eyes, seeing 
empathy and kindness there.
	"Did you love him?" he almost whispered.
	"I did," she smiled ruefully, breaking eye contact, "but when he 
found out I was barren he changed, and I could no longer love the person 
he had become."
	She looked up at him again, and found he was looking into his 
beer.  "That's rough.  Really rough."
	"Well, that's all in the past now."  She had made up her mind.  
"I've got to go now, but I've had a great time talking to you.  Would you 
like to meet me for lunch tommorrow?"
	He looked up as she stood.  "Sure, that'd be great.  Anyplace in 
particular?"
	"How about that little cafe down the block?  At noon?"
	"Sounds great.  See you tommorrow then."
	As she walked out of the bar she couldn't believe herself.  She had 
made a date with someone who was almost sixteen years her junior, and she 
knew she was going to try her damnest to seduce him.  He was so sweet, 
and she wanted him so bad.  It was with a feeling between elation, 
anticipation, and dread which she drove home.  Tommorrow would tell.

	She was waiting at a table when he arrived, wearing grey slacks 
and a long sleeve solid blue button down.  She waved him over and he sat 
down, shaking his head.
	"Been a bad day," he said, a smile breaking over his face as he 
looked at her, as if merely being with her made everything all right.  
His look sent a thrill through her, and she clenched her thighs together, 
feeling a warm pleasure wash over her.  She hadn't been this wet during a 
lunch for a long, long time.  "My car broke down.  I had to have it towed 
to the shop.  It's gonna end up costing me around $400."
	She whistled low.  "Can you afford it?"
	"Ya, but it sure puts a dent in my savings."
	They ordered as the waitress arrived, she getting the ceasar 
salad and a bowl of soup while he ordered an avacado sandwich.
	"Are you vegetarian?" she asked.
	"No, I just don't like to order stuff at restaurants I can make 
at home."
	"You cook?"
	"A lot.  Mostly pasta.  I love fresh pasta...."
	Lunch went well, she thought as she walked back to work.  The 
more she was around him the more attracted she became.  He was smart, a 
good judge of people, a good listener, and interesting; and he was very, 
she thought to herself, very good looking.  Not to say he made her feel 
comfortable, at ease.  She thought back to the end of their conversation.
	"You going to be able to get home all right?" she had asked.
	"Yah, I'll do okay.  I've got to take the bus, with two 
transfers, but I'll make it.  It's a pain, but it won't be the death of 
me."
	"For how long?"
	"Oh, my car'll be out of commission for exactly one week, at 
least that's what they tell me."
	"I tell you what," she had said, "I'll give you a ride home.  
What time do you get off?"
	He had demured, telling her how far he lived away, and how late 
he got off, and how much trouble it would be.  She had insisted, insisted 
until he got his car back, and had finally prevailed.

	She leaned over and swung open the door.  She was wearing a black 
mini which came down to mid thigh with black stockings.  Her shoes, the 
ones she had just bought, were on the seat next to her, leaving her to 
drive barefoot.  She also wore a smart black long sleeved sweater which 
accented her waist and breasts.  She was nervous as she watched him swing 
his bag in ahead of himself even though she didn't plan on making her 
move quite this early.  Maybe a little flirting, she thought to herself 
as the sight of him sent a thrill through her body.
	"Hi.  Thanks again for the ride."
	"It's no problem," she replied, "glad to be able to help."
	They rode in silence for a few minutes, and she felt a sense of 
almost elation as she caught him staring at her legs.
	"How was work today?" she asked.
	"Oh, it went okay.  The highlight was the lunch, of course," he 
said gallently.  "By the way, you look nice.  A big client or something."
	"Mmhm.  Our biggest seller.  He's an older gentleman and he likes 
to look.  I dress up to keep him happy.  He's a leg man, in case you 
couldn't figure it out from the outfit."  She looked over at him and 
smiled, "You a leg man?"
	He grinned, betraying a little embarressment, "Actually, I just 
like women in general."
	"Oh really," she said, raising her eyebrows, knowing how 
embarressed she was making him and loving it.  "And what in general do 
you like about women?"
	"Well....  It's just....  It's like, almost all women, every 
woman, is beautiful in some way."
	"Mmhm."
	"Like some women will have a great smile, or great hair, or great 
legs, or some beautiful physical feature.  And some laugh just 
so...so...fetchingly, and some just have shining personalities."  He 
paused, "Of course, there are a few with absolutely no redeeming feature."
	"And which one am I," she teased him.
	"You?  You're just a great person," he said, smiling.
	She laughed, enchanted.  "You better watch out.  You know how 
desperate we old women are for compliments.  You flatter me too much and 
I might start getting ideas."
	"If you get any ideas I disapprove of, I'll let you know," he 
said laughingly.
	The rest of the ride went by with comfortable chitchat and she 
dropped him off with a warm feeling.  It was strange how such a young man 
could make her so happy with something so small as a compliment.
	The next couple of days went well also.  She met him for a couple of 
lunches as well as driving him home.  She did a great deal of bantering 
and flirting, glad he had wit enough to keep up, and glad that she was 
able to embarress him with some of the things she said.  She made sure to 
dress conservatively sexy and began initiating physical contact.  It was 
just little things, like touching his shoulder when she made some point, 
or grabbing his arm, or just standing a little bit close to him.  She 
knew she had him interested, and decided it was about time to make her move.