Out of the Blue

Donna is feeling great. The last year of gym has started to show results. She's bought that sheer sheath dress and it fits her like a glove. She checks her reflection in the shop windows for any flaws, but she can't detect any.

The sun is shining. There is a slight breeze. Why she bought the scarf too, she wasn't sure? It, actually, just covered up her best feature, so she wrapped it around the strap of her bag.

She looks great for forty. She looks around as though she was thinking out loud and somebody may have heard. So, she looks fantastic for forty five.

She sits down at a footpath cafe and orders a black coffee. She is as free as a bird, ever since Tony left. Those final years, of their fifteen year marriage, as they lived their lives in silence had finally behind her. Suddenly, she had all this time, to do whatever she felt. That was how she felt, free.

A young man comes sauntering towards her. Buff, with that rounded, muscular build that comes from young, male genes. Athletic, he looks like he's just come from training. She didn't usually look at young men, but he fixes his gaze on her, as he approaches, with such intensity that she can't help but notice.

He smiles, as he draws up next to her. Shaggy brown hair. Big, blue eyes, with darker circles around the edge of his iris - the feature she found irresistible in men's eyes. Tony had it. Now she wonders if she looks for that in a man? Big, pink lips, nearly too curvy for a boy's, um, er, man's mouth. They part slightly as he smiles, as his eyes drop to her breasts and then he is gone. Donna resists the urge to look around. How old was he? But then loses the battle and her head swivels almost despite herself.

Okay Sports Boy, I read you, she thinks, as she turns her head around, pretending to have a scratch on the back of her head.

Baggy, green shorts that mimic the outline of his perfect form. The crease up the middle rolling from side to side with each step he takes. Tanned, muscular legs, covered in hair.

She raises her eyes, to meet his looking back at her. He smiles, inquisitively, rolls his head sideways with recognition.

He slows. Stops. And turns around all without averting his gaze.

Donna lets her eyes fall, without thinking. Tight t-shirt. Nice chest. Flat stomach. The baggy green shorts were gathered at the front from the way he'd turned at the hips, showing his manhood tucked downwards in his underwear, v'd by his thighs. She could see his curved outline clearly. He's not a boy, she thinks.

She raises her eyes slowly to his scarlet cheeks and, somewhat, fearful grimace. No, not fearful, maybe shocked. Surprised. The corners of his mouth curl up, almost despite himself. Excited. Scared. Horny. All at once.

He smiles broadly.

Donna turns back quickly and sips her coffee, with a shaking hand. She sits back and takes a big breath. She closes her eyes, momentarily.

"Excuse me," she hears. She opens her eyes to see Sports Boy standing next to her. Smiling. Nervous.

"Would this be yours?" He held her scarf in his hand. "It's just that it was on the ground next to you." Was his hand shaking, just a little? "I'd hate for it to get damaged."

"Yes." She feels her hand rise up to her neck. "Thank you." She reaches up with the other hand and takes hold of the black, silk material.

"You're welcome." He smiles and remains standing gazing down at her. There isn't a blemish on his face.

"So polite, for someone so... young," says Donna. She had tried not to say it, but it came out any way.

"Already twenty," he says. So, not so young."

Donna could feel herself blushing.

"Nearly a man..." Donna says stupid things when she is nervous, she knows that. She winces, but tries not to let it show.

"Huh?" His eyes narrow.

"Twenty one..." she stumbles. "Next year. Traditionally. That's all I meant." She feels herself smile. "I can see you are..." Just stop talking, she thinks. "Thank you." She holds the scarf up.