“Mr. Roberts? Is that you?”
I looked up with a start. The woman was standing a few feet from me, her hands on her broad hips.
“My name is Sam Roberts...” I stammered.
“It's me, Vanessa Martin!” she exclaimed with a bright smile.
“Oh yes... Vanessa...” I answered uncertainly, my mind searching for some recollection of a Vanessa Martin.
“I was your daughter's best friend in Middle School,” she continued,”at least until my Dad got transferred and we had to move out of the state. I used to be at your house all the time. You remember me, don't you?”
Actually I didn't. To be honest, I had never paid much attention to my daughter's friends. She had been the popular girl in school, and during her teen years our house had been constantly filled with an ever changing group of her girlfriends. My wife had acted as hostess and referee to the girls while I found excuses to work in the yard or exercise outside the house.
“You've certainly grown up!” I said, hoping I didn't sound as stupid as I felt.
“Oh, thank you!” she beamed, blushing a little.
I stifled a sigh of relief.
“Do you come here often?” she asked brightly.
“Yes, quite a bit,” I replied, glad for the change of subject. “I try to keep fit if I can.”
“Well, it certainly seems to be working,” she said with a smile that didn't seem quite so innocent as before.
“Uh, thanks,” I answered, feeling awkward all over again.
Vanessa began jogging in place.
“I'm so ready!” she said enthusiastically. “Want to go a round with me?”
“It would be my pleasure,” I responded, trying to conceal my surprise.
Jogging with Vanessa proved to be more of a challenge than I had anticipated. When I jogged beside her, I found that my eyes kept darting involuntarily to her bouncing breasts. I let myself fall behind her a little, but that was even worse. Vanessa's round sculpted ass jiggled and undulated beneath the thin fabric of her shorts each time her sneakers struck the ground. I could feel a bulge starting to form in my shorts.
“So, what brings you back to town?” I asked, desperate to distract myself.
“I'm back from college,” she replied.
“You graduated already?” I said, a little surprised.
“Well... I'm sort of taking a break from college right now,” she answered, a little evasively.
“I understand,” I said, not really understanding at all.
“Are you and Mrs. Roberts still together?” she asked suddenly.
“Y-yes, we are.” I stammered, taken aback by the question.
“I guess you're happy?”
“Ah, yes. As far as I know.” I said, half laughing to conceal my nervousness, “Why do you ask?”
“Oh, no reason.” she said, almost absentmindedly, “I just wondered...”
We jogged in silence for a few minutes but to me, it felt like hours. Why was my daughter's old middle school friend asking me such personal questions about my marriage? And why had I answered them?
“I had a boyfriend in college,” Vanessa volunteered suddenly, “but it didn't work out.”
“Oh, I'm sorry to hear that,” I said, relaxing a little. Maybe this was what the questions were about.
“His name was Bob,” she said, talking more to herself than to me. “ He was nice, funny, and smart, really smart. We even moved in together. I liked him a lot... at first.”
“But not later?” I asked, with a note of anticipation that surprised me.
“He was a computer nerd. He wasn't athletic and he never wanted to go out and do anything. In the end, I just moved out. Life's too short to spend in front of a computer screen all day.”
“I'm sorry it didn't work out for you two,” I replied, suddenly aware that my eyes had drifted back to her jiggling breasts. I quickly looked at the passing trees.
“Oh, that's okay,” she answered cheerfully. “He was too young for me anyway.”
“Too young?” I said, my eyebrows arching with surprise.
“I guess I've always been attracted to older men,” she said, giving me a sidelong glance. “There is just something about them. The way they're so manly and experienced. You don't have to tell them what to do. They see what they want and they take it!”
I could feel my heart racing and the bulge in my shorts had returned with a vengeance.
“Younger men are so immature,” she continued. “They can't even tell when your flirting with them, not that it matters. Most of them wouldn't know what to do even if they did notice. Besides,” she added with a mischievous grin,” They always cum before I'm ready.”
My mouth opened, but nothing came out. I watched in a daze as Vanessa jogged down the path and suddenly realized that I had come to a complete stop. With a burst of speed that I didn't know I was still capable of, I quickly pulled along side her.
But Vanessa had slowed down to a walk and turned onto a narrow side path that led into the woods.
“I need a break,” she sighed, “I'm all hot and sweaty.”
I nodded and followed her.
The dirt path led to a secluded clearing in the middle of the woods. Vanessa threw herself onto the grass and I sat down heavily beside her. We sat in silence, listening to the sounds of the birds and the rustling of the trees overhead.
“They kicked me out,” she said suddenly.
“Who?” I asked, feeling more confused than ever.
“The college,” she replied. “I got expelled.”
“Why?” I asked, knowing the question was inappropriate, but unable to help myself.
“I fucked my professor,” she said matter-of-factly. “A lot.”
I didn't answer.
“He was an older man. Mature, masculine. Just the kind of man I like,” she said dreamily. “We had a game we liked to play: He would keep me after class, as if I had done something wrong. After everyone was gone, he
