It was the end of July and my usually predictable lifestyle had been disrupted, albeit pleasantly by a third year biology student called Amy. I had been single for a year and that was a long time for me. Suddenly one reaches a certain age and the urges are still there but the opportunities seem to grow fewer. I had been with my ex girlfriend for three years. I was forty one when I had met her. The shock of turning forty had passed and I felt good to be in a relationship. However, three years tested my inclination of not being monogamous to its limits and for one reason or another we fizzled out. Now, at forty five I was looking for excitement.
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The summer of 2012 was remarkable for two reasons. There was the Olympic Games and the euphoria engendered by that four yearly spectacle of human achievement and then for me, there was Amy. While the former attraction was all over and done with in two weeks - not counting the paras - Amy hung around for a while longer.
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Well my job was based around exercise which was why I love my job. I love exercise, I love the burning sensation run through my muscular arms as I lift the weights and ignore the admiring advances of the women in Lycra to my left, I focused purely on pulling this heap of metal up and down until I was completely sapped of energy. After month after month of consecutive gym sessions on a daily basis, I was approached by a sharp looking woman in a business suit who proposed that I should become a personal trainer. I mean I get to exercise more and the gym was my social habitat; one that I thrived in as I could return the seductive gazes and join in with the banter thrown around but I didn't have any other alternative so I bit her hand off.
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Abby had just moved into this apartment building about six months ago, and was just about settled in. It was a pretty quiet building, no noisy neighbors, no late night parties. Most of the people who lived there were young single professional types like her. The one great thing about her apartment was her downstairs neighbor. Gwen was maybe five or six years older than Abby, and a total slut. She was a beautiful brunette with a tight body. She loved to dress provocatively showing off lots of legs and cleavage.
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It was my last client of the day and I was dreading it, I could see the snow beginning to fall against the window and I knew that if I wasn't carefully, I could end up being snowed in at work and I couldn't think of something worse. I did decide however to make an effort as I lit the candles and let the aroma of vanilla drift through the air and fill the room. The room was nice and warm and I was ready as I stood there in my plain white uniform. I heard the bell ring which indicated the door had been opened and stepped out expecting to be rubbing the muscle of yet another strapping young lad who'd pulled something whilst playing some sort of exercise but I couldn't have been more wrong!
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Brad was at the park one Saturday playing softball with his buddies when he spotted Morgan, a tall thin blonde sitting on a nearby bench. Brad accidentally lost the ball near where she was sitting and had to go get it. Everyone had packed up their things and left, since it was getting dark. Brad and Morgan had a little privacy, even though they were outdoors. Brad struck up a conversation with her, and they were getting along nicely. Morgan was doing some subtle flirting, giggling, brushing up against him, and Brad wasn't going to pass up an opportunity to get lucky.
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Dean, a nineteen year old guy that I'd been talking to increasingly often, arrived at my house around 7pm like he said he would, and I got a little uneasily into his old silver car as he held the door open for me. By the time I got to Dean's I was even more nervous for no particular reason, but I was relieved the drive had gone smoothly (at least in my opinion) and that we had managed to keep the conversation going... Or at least I waffled on enough for the both of us. I followed him on weak legs into the back garden where a large shed had been converted into his bedroom.
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"Dangit" Melissa thought to herself. "I walked out without my fucking phone." It was one of those Monday mornings for Melissa. She was going to have to drive all the way back home to get her phone. It was a little after ten-thirty so at least the rush hour traffic will have died down. Melissa is a forty-four year old, recently divorced mother of a twenty year old daughter who is home from college for the summer. Melissa imagined that Katie would probably sleep until noon, so she'd just slip in, grab her phone and not disturb her.
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I approached your house and knocked on your door, as I stood on your doorstep in the cold, I saw a slither of light protruding through the door frame, there was no answer but the door was slightly ajar so I entered. I slowly opened the door and I quickly reached the top of the stairs, I turned right and approached her room, I walked in and saw the pile of clothes on the floor- her tank top and shorts and her lacy bra and underwear too. This led me to the conclusion that she was in the shower, so I quickly left her room and approached the bathroom and I knew from previous experiences that the lock on the door didn't work and also she had a phobia of being locked in a place.
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