Micro Monday, Flash Fiction
Charmed by a Cougar
Seduced and shown the ropes by a glamorous woman who has already studied the art of sex…
Recently I have heard jokes about older women collecting young lovers. A cougar. What a wonderful thing. To be seduced and shown the ropes by a glamorous woman who has already studied the art of sex. And I should know. Such a thing happened to me before the phrase had been invented.
About fifty years ago I’d landed my dream job on one of the main rags published in Fleet Street. After work, when the copy for the following day had been finalised, we’d frequent a little bar under Blackfriers Bridge — The Third Rail. I had only been with the paper a month or so when she caught my eye.
I was in a booth with the guys. Legs astride, one foot up on the seat in front. Even though I had only recently left my teens behind I was a confident dude. The occasional roar of music from the jukebox added atmosphere. I glanced over at the counter. Perched on a bar stool she was holding a flute in one hand, sipping the pink bubbles while surveying her surround. Ready to pounce.
An expensive reddish-tan fur coat was loosely draped over her shoulders revealing a close-fitting cream dress that hugged her bosom to perfection. When she turned her face to meet mine I guessed she was at least double my age, prime and vital.
Then, her amber eyes rested on me, burning through my chest, warming my heart as the sound of its beat echoed in my ears. Swallowing the saliva that had collected on my tongue I watched as she discarded her fur and walked over. My colleagues hushed as her gaze rested on my crotch before returning to my face.
She stretched out long slender fingers and purred,
“My name’s Kitty, charmed I’m sure.”
Without hesitation I took her hand. She lead me to the dance floor, pushed her taut body against mine, and we moved as one to the rhythm. Silently, she held me captive.
This story has been linked to the meme MmmMondays…
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