"She walked right past me as I was rummaging my backpack out of the trunk of the car. I caught a glimpse of blonde ponytail and my head pivoted around without volition. She was tall and slender. She had a long, graceful neck that emerged from her chambray shirt. The straps of her backpack made her small breasts stand out, high and conical.
She caught me staring. I must have blushed because she grinned and winked one enormous green eye. Then she kept moving up the path to the stairs.
I watched her go. She wore hiking shorts made of some synthetic that lovingly cupped her shapely runner's buttocks. They swung to and fro in graceful arcs as she receded, heading out and up the mountain.
I had to manipulate a few bits to make my shorts feel a little more comfortable. Which surprised me. I had not had such a reaction to seeing such a pretty girl in many, many years. On the other hand, just that brief contact caused a cascade of fantastic imagery, partly actual experiences over twenty years, partly adolescent nonsense. It was embarrassing. Yet, there was something different about her, something my spidey sense picked up.
As it turned out, I would find just how special and different she was, and that made all the difference for me."
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