I had moved into my new apartment, just on the edge of the campus.
I had no job. There were no graduate school papers due. I was free to spend my days and nights however I wanted. My only immediate need was furniture, as all I had were some chairs, a desk and a bed.
I spent the first few weeks of my “summer off”, exploring the back woods of New England, working out, buying furniture, watching the Red Sox on TV, visiting a local bar or two, and writing notes to Sarah.
By mid-July, I had bought a new couch and chairs, a dining area table and chairs, a bureau for the bedroom, kitchen supplies, pictures, and other items one needs to make an apartment a home.
I had worked out and jogged enough that I was in reasonably good shape, explored most of the area around the University, and, had written enough notes and done enough research to get a head start on the writing that would take up most of my time during the next two years.
Boredom was setting in.
A friend who managed one of the dormitory areas on campus, and was responsible for a new co-ed living experiment, asked for some help. He could pay me a $1,000.00 for two weeks work. It sounded both interesting and a good way to meet some faculty and staff, and students.
I was paired with two others, both of whom were faculty members. As a team we acted as a “sounding board” for ideas being considered as part of a new living and learning concept.
Students, staff and faculty presented their ideas, thoughts and plans, and we would question them, push them to think through the idea, and play “devil’s advocate”.
As jobs go, it was easy money with no heavy lifting.
In late July, there was a combined birthday party for two of the students, a staff member, and a faculty member. The party was held outside in the late afternoon-early evening, in an area between two of the dormitories.
I was invited to attend, along with my two co-workers.
After the party had started, but before any food had been delivered, a young lady drove into the parking lot next to one of the dorms.
She was conspicuous for two reasons:
She arrived in a dark blue Porsche 911 Targa. It was an expensive car at anyone’s salary.
She was cute, with freckles, full red lips, light brown hair, a long pony tail and a great body.
She was wearing faded jeans, sandals and a light, pale green golf shirt which dramatically displayed two large breasts.
I point this out because her breasts appeared to be too big for her body.
She was slim, with a flat stomach and a nice ass. Her breasts, however, were three or four times bigger than one would expect on her body type.
I watched as she and others carried trays of food to the party area.
The fabric between her boobs was stretched tight. Her breasts moved back and forth and up and down naturally, with each movement of her body. Her nipples were hard and very noticeable.
The fellow standing next to me noticed me staring at the lady.
“Don’t even go there, my friend.”
I had been caught ogling an attractive lady.
“But she has such a nice car.” I told him, trying to deflect my slight embarrassment with a little humor.
He told me her name was Jeanine. She was married. Her husband of two years worked construction somewhere in the mid-west. And for the last two years she had been the secretary to the guy responsible for implementing this new concept in dorm living.
I looked closer and saw the wedding ring.
I assumed that the guy next to me had sought to dissuade me from anything beyond just looking because Jeanine was married.
I was wrong.
“That woman has slept with just about every guy at this party, faculty, staff and students, married or not.” I was informed by my new friend.
I looked at him and then the ring on his finger.
“And?“ I asked.
“I’m married. She flirted with me. It was there if I wanted. But I walked away. She is an attractive lady. It’s hard to say no to someone like her.”
I waited until all the food and cakes were placed on tables before I approached her.
“Hi. I’m Mike.” I said, holding out my hand.
“Hi Mike. My name’s Jeanine.”
As we shook hands, I held her hand for just an extra second or two, just to let her know that I was interested.
We talked as we moved around the tables and filled our plates with food.
I mentioned the car. She told me that she had always wanted a Porsche and that her husband had bought it in Vermont.
I put my hand on the small of her back and held it there as she bent over the table to reach for some bread.
She turned and gave me a warm smile.
It was difficult not to stare at her breasts.
And then there were those freckles. I see an attractive lady with freckle and I just melt.
“Nice to have met you, Mike.” she said with a big smile as she completed filling her plate with food and walked away to join her boss.
We had done our little dance, and now it was time to step back and see if anything would come of it.
I left the party, making sure that I said goodbye to the people who had invited me as well as the birthday people.
I looked at Jeanine as I left, raising my hand in a slight wave.
She acknowledged my wave with a smile and a little wave of her own.
Was our little tango enough?
My two weeks or work went by and I had not seen Jeanine at or around any of our meetings.
I had spent a rainy Saturday afternoon watching baseball on the TV.
Having errands to do, I put on my jacket and hat, slid the curtain back on the sliding glass door, opened the door and stepped out onto the grassy yard expecting to walk a few feet to my car.
There, next to my car, sat a dark blue Porsche.
There can’t be two of these cars in the same town.
Who in my apartment building was she seeing?
The doorbell rang on my front door.
I threw off my jacket and hat, walked to the door, looked through the peep hole and it was her.
“Happy new apartment.” she cried out as I opened the door.
