Young Heat 2
Copyright 2011 Bad Penny Press
Smashwords Edition
Please look for other titles from Bad Penny Press at Smashwords.com
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
All characters in this work are portrayed as consenting adults.
Any assumption otherwise is solely in the mind of the reader.
Off the Rack
Okay, it might sound a little odd for an older guy like me to say that I enjoy shopping. I’m not gay and I don’t fall under the new-age heading of “Metrosexual”. All I am is a reasonably normal guy that takes pride in his appearance. And that includes making a day for myself to shop, just like I set aside time for myself to work out. If you keep an open mind, shopping can be an adventure. Sometimes you find just what you need, even if you didn’t know you were looking for it to begin with.
Tuesday mornings tend to be one of the quieter days to shop for clothes or other sundry items, and today was no different. School was in session, moms with kids not yet old enough for school were clustered in the children’s play area, and people who worked normal 9 to 5 weekday jobs were working their jobs instead of crowding the stores in the mall. Since I’m not among the group of folks who work “normal” hours, I often get to enjoy many places like department and grocery stores without having to deal with the usual crowd.
I was in one of the big department stores at the mall, shopping in the men’s section for a couple casual shirts and slacks. I really didn’t need any new clothing, but this was a luxury I now afforded myself after years of skimping on my appearance in order to properly clothe and feed my kids that have since flown from the nest. I’m nowhere near being the high-fashion type, but as I mentioned before I do try to show some pride in myself.
I’m 50 years old and I’m not that far removed from the clothing sizes I wore in college, I’m proud to say. I’m also quite often complimented by folks who are surprised when they learn my real age, often assuming me ten, and sometimes even fifteen years younger. Part of it is good genes, part of it is exercise and watching my diet, and part of it comes from a form of cheating; shaving my head so I’m not given away by the gray hair that would otherwise hint at my real age.
“Is there anything I can help you with today, sir?” asked a soft female voice from behind me.
I turned to find a rather young and nicely dressed sales associate giving me her attention. She looked to be maybe in her early 20s, but these days it was as hard to judge the age of young ladies as it was for most people to judge mine. She stood perhaps around 5’5”, and judging by her soft and very feminine build I’d put her at around 120 lbs. Far from waif-thin and just shy of Rubenesque. She was wearing an emerald green cotton blouse over a short black skirt that revealed a lot of her nice legs beneath the high hem.
Her face was round, with soft features in proportion to the soft curves of her physique. Her eye makeup was a little heavy as with most teen-aged girls nowadays but not enough to take away from her sable-colored eyes, and her left eyebrow was pierced with two small rings. She had very pale blond hair in a shoulder-length cut that followed the curve of her face, parted at one side and with a dark, almost black lock of hair around an inch thick that traveled from the part in her hair down to the ends and acted like a line separating her pale skin from her just as pale blond hair.
But what I think caught my attention the most was her very bright smile. Okay, her low-cut top that revealed some cleavage and a small tattoo of a butterfly on her right breast caught my eye, too, but the smile was definitely an attention-getter.
“I’m just kind of looking around,” I replied with a smile I hoped was as warm as hers. I took a quick glance at her name tag, poised upon the butterfly-decorated breast. “Thank you, Mindy.”
I like to address people by their names whenever I can. I think it’s only fair and it makes for a nice, human connection. When I called Mindy by her name, it brought an extra little twinkle to her eyes.
“Well, sir,” she replied with a sudden girlishness, “please let me know if there is anything that I can help you with.”
“I would consider any assistance from someone al lovely as you to be a privilege and great pleasure,” I said in my gallant tone that I tend to use with younger ladies. Yeah, it might be a little over-the-top for some and produce nothing more than a jaundiced roll of the eyes, but I find that a lot of these young women take very well to being treated with a little old-fashioned respect.
Mindy gave me a head-to-toe once-over with widened eyes in that little split-second move one uses to try to check out someone without being noticed. But, I noticed.
“Uh… thank you,” Mindy replied with a little girlish giggle as she blushed a bit, lending a pinkish color to the apples of her cheeks while her smile revealed very cute dimples at the corners of her mouth. She waved a hand to fan her face. “I’m probably blushing now.”
“Blushing is a bit of a lost art, Mindy,” I said with a wink. “I wish more young ladies had the modesty to blush when a gentleman shares a deserving compliment.”
I could see that the wheels were turning in Mindy’s head, evidenced by the glimmer in her eyes. She seemed both needing to step away to focus on her job but hesitant to do so. Eventually she turned and walked away with a bounce in her step and a nice wiggle in her ass. Her legs were a little heavier than those that most men seem to prize, but they looked very nice on Mindy.
Baby fat; those smooth legs also hinted that Mindy might not be a legal adult.
For the next twenty minutes or so I stayed focused on actually shopping as I had intended, picking out what I wanted and throwing a few extra things in for good measure. But every couple of minutes I’d catch sight of Mindy out of the corner of my eye, stealing glances as she kind of hovered around and tried to look like she was working. I’d look over towards her and give her a smile and a wink, and in turn she’d smile shyly and turn her head away and putter around with something else.
Yes, when you give a young lady sincere compliments they tend to hang around to see if there might be another one coming. Kind of a form of validation.
I didn’t notice any other customers in the men’s section that needed Mindy’s attention – a good thing since her attention seemed pretty much devoted to me – so I walked over to her and asked, “Since the lovely Miss Mindy offered me her assistance, perhaps she could now point me to the men’s changing room?”
“Um, it’s just over there in the corner,” replied Mindy as she pointed out the obvious sign posted over the entrance to the changing rooms. In truth I knew full well where to find the changing room; I was just taking advantage of another opportunity to get close to the attractive young woman.
“Oh… well, duh!” I said in a self-depreciating voice and acting a little sheepish. Again already knowing the answer, I asked, “How many items can I take in at once? I have about ten things here.”
“Six is the usual maximum,” she replied. “But, you look like I can trust you, so go ahead and take them all in with you.”
“No, I don’t want you to break the rule for me,” I said with a shake of my head. “I don’t want you to get in trouble should your boss happen to come by.”
“Oh, I’m pretty much alone here today, what with it usually being slow this time of week,” she replied with a wave of her hand. I was about to thank her and step away when I noticed she was kind of biting her lip with an unsure expression. “Uh… can I ask you something?”
“Anything,” I replied, looking down at her and smiling. “What’s on your mind?”
“How… uh…” Mindy seemed at a loss for words but soldiered on. “May I ask how old you are?”
Once again a blush warmed Mindy’s face.
“How old do you think I am?” I asked in reply.
“I dunno… forty?” she asked with an expression that hinted she was dabbling in unknown territory. “I mean, my dad’s almost forty, and you look around his age… maybe even a little younger?”
“Well, it is my turn to thank you for a compliment,” I replied, enjoying the flattery. “I’m not quite old enough to be your grandfather, but I’m not that far removed from it, either.”
“Wow,” replied Mindy with honest surprise. “You definitely don’t look that old!”
“Again, I thank you,” I said, feeling like maybe I was blushing a little, too, at that moment. I turned towards the changing rooms.
”I’m twenty!” Mindy called out from behind me.
I turned back to face the young lady, who stood there with a look that hinted even she wasn’t sure why she had to share that with me.
“You’re far more than just twenty,” I said. “You’re twenty, quite beautiful, and… dare I say… quite sexy. I’m sure you have more than your share of young men lining up for dates with you. Oh, if only I were younger, I’d be there in line, too.”
”Wow!” Mindy kind of just bounced on her toes for a moment, a move that caused her C-cup breasts to bounce in kind while she looked around almost shyly. Her skin glowed as her blush seemed to radiate through her body. She was growing more attractive with each passing minute.
“Would you be willing to do me a favor, Mindy?” I asked, kind of testing the water. “If you don’t have any other customers that need your help at the moment, could you kind of hang by the doorway so I can step out and get a woman’s opinion on the clothes I’ve picked out so far?”