I am 40-years old and my wife, although six years younger, is no “spring chicken.” She works out religiously and has a fantastic body. After the birth of our children, I happily paid for her breast augmentation. She was a D-cup before pregnancy, but as with all women who give birth, her breasts were quite saggy. She didn't opt to go any bigger, but she now has very perky D-cup breasts like she did in her youth. By all accounts, she is an exceedingly attractive woman that my colleagues and friends would be thrilled to bed. It’s not that I don’t desire her and find her physically attractive, but there is something about the vitality and spirit of today’s youth. No, I am not experiencing a midlife crisis; quite simply, I’ve just always had a thing for young, “hot chicks.”
I have a successful career and could be considered wealthy. No, I don't have the money of Bill Gates, but certainly upper-middle-class at the very least. Although my wife and I are in love, it doesn't hurt that she has an almost unlimited back account at her disposal. That fact alone probably has a lot to do with how she begrudgingly learned to accept that I have a thing for much younger girls.
Our local high school had a basketball game against their rival and my kids wanted to attend. I sent my wife and children in to get a seat, while I was outside smoking a cigarette. It was uncharacteristically hot outside, and she was dressed appropriately for the weather – Cutoff denim short-shorts and a red, flowing tank top that showed off both her taut midriff and expansive cleavage. She completed the outfit with a pair of nude heels. She got out of a car with another girl and the two walked past me and entered the gymnasium. Just seeing her gave me a semi-erection.
After getting snacks from the concession stand, I made my way to our seats and watched as the teams warmed up. Much to my surprise, the dream girl that I saw outside had changed into a cheerleading outfit. I had no idea she was in high school.
Taking her in fully as she parades around in her skimpy outfit, I see that she is relatively tall with very long brunette hair. Her complexion is flawless and she has a perpetual tan. Undoubtedly, her most distinguishing feature is her frame; she is very slender without an ounce of body fat, however, she has disproportionately large breasts. Her breasts are not of the porn star variety and certainly no larger than a D-cup (much like my wife's). Nonetheless, because of her petite frame, they appear much larger.
Physically, she is a contrasting enigma: She is rail thin, but with a very toned body. Some would probably consider her too thin and not "curvy" enough, but to me, her frame is ideal. Her muscle definition is obvious, but in a very feminine way. I take note of the hint of calf muscles poking from her tan legs as she performs a few cartwheels. She's very tan, but I spy just a hint of pearl white skin beneath the strap of her sports bra.
I am drawn to her arms and the way they further her juxtaposition: They are very long and thin, almost like twigs sticking out from a small sapling, but she's clearly strong for her size. The tiny blue veins protruding from beneath her skin. Her very tiny waist fits perfectly with her proportions. She has pert breasts, that are tight-set high on her chest, as if on a shelf, defying gravity. Her breastbones just peeking from under her skin and her clavicles jutting out just so. She possesses an almost boyish, thin ass.
For all of her superior physical qualities and aside from her big tits, her model-gorgeous face is the most distinguishing. She has high cheekbones and an angular, almost chiseled, face framed by her long, dark hair. She could literally fit right in on the runways of Milan, Paris, or New York. She wears en vogue makeup - Glitter, lip-gloss, heavy eye shadow, etc. - bu her natural model's visage is perfect even if it were devoid of over-the-counter enhancements. I am amazed by this girl.
I watch her intently throughout the game and my wife gives me a knowing look. It's clear that I am beyond attracted to this teenager. Telling my wife to take the kids to the car, I make the excuse that I want to talk to a few friends before I leave. In reality, I went straight to where the cheerleaders were congregated out in the hall. Standing back a little and off to the side, I simply watched as this girl interact with her friends. I wasn't able to catch her name or what grade she was in, but it didn't matter. After a short while, she noticed that I was staring at her. Being older, I didn't want to creep her out, but I couldn't turn away.
Sure, I am more than twice her age, but I still look decent, all things considered. I am not an Adonis by any stretch of the imagination and cannot compare to her young teen classmates, but I watch my gut and maintain myself. I work out regularly and keep myself well groomed. The muscles of my arms and chest aren't chiseled, but obvious and defined. The greying temples of my dark brown hair make me look, "distinguished" according to my wife. I wrangled my hand through the thin layer of stubble on my face and saw that it was now or never. "Sorry, I don't meant to stare. I'm Mr. Ash. You're a really good cheerleader," I say, feeling awkward trying to start a conversation with the teenager.