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The Barnes & Noble on Union Square is always one of my favorite stops when in the city. Yes, it’s a chain — but it’s in a magnificent five story structure with large south facing windows looking out over one of the more exciting and vibrant public spaces in New York — at least in my opinion. The ceilings are incredibly high and the open floor plan and light filled space make it feel both private and urbane.

But, for some reason, more often than not the UP escalators don’t seem to be working, as they were not on my most recent visit. So as I climbed the ridged stainless steel treads two at a time, trying to turn escalator climbing into an aerobic exercise, I was slowed, suddenly, by the lovely swaying hips and denim clad ass of a magnificent female, ascending at a slower, and more reasonable, single riser pace. I slowed myself, gladly, and enjoyed the view as we neared the 4th floor.

From the rear she appeared to be in her twenties, with long flowing thick tresses of dark brown hair and a gorgeous bubble butt that tapered tightly above into a minute waist and below into a long pair of slender thighs. The short jacket she was wearing had to have been designed to keep her upper half warm while allowing the assets of her lower extremities to be on parade for the public to enjoy. And that is what I did. But it was her high heeled light brown leather boots that really caught my attention and brought the whole image into perspective. This was a body worth slowing down for.

It was during the last few steps, as she leveled out and began to walk toward the stacks, that it hit me: I’d seen this ass before. And a jolt of adrenaline coursed through my body as her identity dawned on me, or so I thought. Was this Cassie? The tight movement of her ass as she walked; the thick long hair; the slender taut thighs – it had to be her.

Cassie, short for Cassandra, was the youngest child of three and the only daughter of my old friend, Martin. While I had seen a lot less of Marty since my divorce and move to Hartford three years ago, we still kept in touch and saw one another on rare occasions. Back in the old days, though, our two families had been inseparable; so close that his kids called me “Uncle Teddy”. Marty and his family had lived a few blocks from us in Tarrytown, and we had watched one another’s children grow up from a very early age. I had seen Cassie gradually changing from a little tomboy, trying to keep up with her brothers and my son, to a striking teen. She’d become a real stunner as she’d reached the end of her high school years, and Marty had often commented on how her brothers’ friends provided a never-ending source of boyfriend material.

I had only seen Cassie a few times since she’d gone off to college – Skidmore as I recalled – and each time I was increasingly struck by her slow maturation into an extremely beautiful young woman. While it had been well over a year since we had last crossed paths, I knew that she had moved to New York and was living and working in Manhattan. While the chances of running into her seemed remarkably slim, I had bumped into so many people I knew in New York over the years that nothing surprised me anymore.

I began to think that maybe my imagination was running away from me. There were so many beautiful brunettes walking the streets of the city; it still seemed only remotely possible that I would really be running into Cassie under such circumstances. But my gaze was transfixed by the sway of her walk as this mystery gal turned a corner and headed down an aisle toward the rear of the store. I followed; doing my best to shadow her with nonchalance and benign interest. I still couldn’t be sure it was her as her long hair hung loose and wild over her shoulders and partially hid her face. I decided to follow her; feeling a need to confirm my suspicions. She stopped after cruising down a narrow aisle and began to search the shelves, looking for something in particular. I pretended to do the same from a vantage point twenty or so feet away. It sure looked like her, but I just couldn’t be sure, as I pretended to be scanning the shelves in earnest, while really trying to discern her true identity.

As she stood, lost in a thick book, I finally decided I needed to take a chance and confront her. I figured I would call out her name and if it was her, she’d turn quickly in response to her name. If it wasn’t her she either wouldn’t respond and I’d move along, or she would look up and I’d apologize for my mistaken identity. It was now or never and I called out her name, just loud enough so she might hear it.


She turned immediately with a cautious look of surprise that immediately gave way to a look of delight and recognition.

“Uncle Teddy?” she gasped in complete surprise. “Oh my God. What are you doing here?”

She opened her arms, book still in hand, and gave me a big hug. I inhaled her glorious scent and enjoyed the momentary closeness of her tight slender body.

As she broke our hug she glanced at the department casino oyna we were in and broke into her classic beautiful smile.

“And what brings you to the Female Sexuality department?”

I had paid no attention to what section we were in; I had just been following my nose and Cassie’s fabulous ass. I grimaced and reddened as I looked at the aisle in which I found myself and grinned sheepishly as Cassie gave me a devilish smile.

“It’s one of my favorite subjects. I’m all for it,” I replied with a shrug and a grin.

“I bet it is. I bet you are,” Cassie replied.

“Honestly, I came up behind you walking up the escalator and thought I recognized your….” I paused as I realized I was just digging a deeper hole.

Cassie observed me with a bemused smile and crossed her arms as if waiting for a reply — and it better be a good one. She flipped her long hair over her shoulder and stared me down, the corners of her mouth turned up ever so slightly.

“Your ass,” I blurted out.

In lieu of a clever ending to that statement, which I did not have at the moment, I figured the truth might be my ally. Cassie burst out laughing.

“Well, at least you’re being honest, you dirty old man.”

“Hey, I resemble that,” I joked. “At least the old part. Seriously. I did just sort of recognize the whole of you, or thought I did, so I followed you blindly through the stacks to see if I could confirm my suspicions. Your hair was hanging down and I couldn’t quite make out your face, so….I lingered.”

She did have exquisite hair. It hung in long tangled brunette waves across her shoulders; longer than I last remembered, and had that “just fucked” look that seemed so natural, and sexy, on her.

“Truth is, I never forget an ass,” I continued, teasing and probing for a response.

“Are you going to be able to crawl out of the hole you’re digging? Because I’m not going to help you – just so you know,” she said with a broad grin spread across her pretty face.

It was time to change the subject and I began to inquire about her dad and family, as she did the same. Our conversation was animated over the next ten minutes; catching up on who was where and doing what. As we talked my mind was running on two parallel tracks: one was carrying on the conversation about mutual family and friends; the other was admiring and ogling the beauty standing before me.

Cassie had always been a lovely girl growing up; you could see that even as a pre-teen. Her big brown eyes and perfectly proportioned face promised for a bright and lovely future as she matured. She came from great genetic stock: her father, Marty, had hard chiseled looks and her mother was a lovely creature. Cassie had inherited the best of both and I kept thinking that at 25, she was in her prime.

She could have walked off of a runway or out of a Victoria’s Secret catalogue, but her demeanor spoke of a modest upbringing and a head that was screwed on straight. In some ways, her unaffected attitude made her all the more appealing and sexy. I could not take my eyes off of her beautiful face and sparkling dark eyes as we spoke.

“What brings you to town?” she finally asked.

“Well, I’ve got a trade show at the Javits tomorrow and came down a day early to do a little shopping and just hang out. I’m staying around the corner at the W.”

After my divorce I had taken my lifelong hobby of photography and attempted to reinvent myself. Between photographing weddings, freelancing photo work, and doing some website design, I had fashioned out a basic, but very comfortable existence for myself. After years on the corporate ladder, I loved working for a living doing something I enjoyed. Though I knew Cassie was doing some sort of marketing work in the city, I never got a chance to ask. She looked at her watch as I was replying to her question and suddenly her eyes widened.

“Oh shit. I have to go! I need to be at yoga in ten minutes. I’m sorry,” she apologized as she shifted her large handbag to the other shoulder, placed the book she’d been holding all this time back on the shelf, and prepared to bolt.

“No problem,” I replied; a little saddened to see her depart so quickly. “Are you studying yoga?”

“Actually, I’m teaching the class, so I can’t be late. It’s only two blocks away, though, so I’m okay.”

“You don’t exactly look dressed for yoga,” I continued, wanting to end on a teasing note.

“I’ll change when I get there. But you gotta look good on the commute, you know. You never know who you might run into. Or who might notice one of your attributes,” she continued with a knowing smile.

“Well, Cassie. It was wonderful to see you. Really. You look just….just great. I hope I didn’t embarrass myself too much.”

“Not at all, Teddy,” she said affectionately. “It’s always nice to be noticed by a mature and thoughtful gentleman.”

“Well, I don’t know about the mature, or the thoughtful part for that matter, but thank you. Your comment about a dirty canlı casino old man may have been more accurate.”

“I doubt it,” she replied.

She opened her arms to give me a hug and I reciprocated, wishing that moment might get frozen in time; feeling the firm flesh of her body under the several layers of clothing. As she turned to go instinct took over and I blurted out an invitation.

“Cassie, I know you have to go, but….listen. I’m having dinner alone tonight, around the corner at the Gramercy Tavern. That means I’m going to be sitting alone at a table for two and, well, it sure would be nice if you would join me and let me buy you dinner. And a nice bottle of wine,” I continued. “I feel like we just started to catch up.”

I could see her pause for a moment; her mind whirring. I was concerned that my spur-of-the-moment invitation might appear shallow and transparent — she had to have better things to do with her time than dine with me. But as the awkward hiatus passed, I felt like the evening might be coming together as a broad smile began to spread across her face.

“Ohhh, that’s a nice place. You know how to live, Uncle Teddy. What time?”

“7:30,” I replied hopefully.

I could see her calculating the time in her head and the bright shine of her eyes told me she was going to say yes.

“Well, that’s a wonderful idea. Thank you. I think I’ll have just enough time to go home, change and meet you there. Is that okay?”

“Absolutely,” I replied, trying not to show the giddy joy I was feeling at that very moment; my heart pounding with excitement. “I’ll save your seat. Better yet, I’ll meet you at the bar.”

“You’d better,” she said over her shoulder as she sauntered away. God, her ass looked amazing in those jeans; such perfect movement and sway; that tight little twitch that I just love. As I stared after her, she turned her head just before climbing on the down escalator, looked at me, looked downward over her shoulder at her ass, and then back at me — giving me a knowing smile and wagging her finger at me for shame.

I’d been caught, but I didn’t care. I waved and smiled back.

I continued to wander the aisles of the bookstore, but my thoughts were on the events of the past fifteen minutes. What marvelous serendipity had brought Cassie and me to cross paths so unexpectedly? And why was the thought of taking this charming young lady, an old friend, to dinner causing my heart to pound in my chest with anticipation? I was having a hard time, honestly, separating the sweet innocent daughter of a dear old buddy from the hot vixen that had just wagged her finger at me. I had just asked the prom queen to the dance and she had said yes.

Eventually I realized that my wanderings were completely aimless and descended back to West17th St. and headed south across the square. I figured I should put Cassie out of my mind for the time being and go through my afternoon as I would have had we not met. But as I wandered the Village, whiling away the late afternoon, I kept seeing her large brown eyes or dangerous smile creep into my mind’s eye. One way or the other this was going to be a very interesting evening.

Back at the hotel I showered and shaved, then anguished over what to wear; not wanting to be too formal, but not wanting to under dress for such an occasion. I eventually opted for my favorite pair of jeans, a starched white button-down shirt and a black silk sport coat. The combo looked pretty good with my graying hair. I gave myself the once over, sprayed one shot of cologne on my neck and headed for the door.

I arrived at the restaurant a little before 7:30, hoping to find a perch at the bar and, perhaps, quell my nerves with a stiff drink. I was fifty years old, for Christ’s sake. Why was I acting and feeling like a love struck teenager? I ordered a Bookers on the rocks and leaned against the bar to survey the crowd. It was still a bit early by Manhattan standards, but the place was filled and had a nice quiet sophisticated buzz. The first taste of bourbon went down smooth and easy and I felt a dull glow settle in.

Cassie arrived just after 7:30 with a flourish. I watched from afar as she checked her coat, shook her hair, and turned to survey the bar, looking for a familiar face. She lit up as she found my smiling mug and strode in my direction. I kept my eyes on her, but my peripheral vision picked up swiveling heads of fellow male, and female, patrons as they followed her entrance, wondering toward whom she was headed. That would be moi.

She was wearing a “little black dress” and strappy black high heels — and had a vague resemblance to a million bucks. The dress had slender straps over her pale shoulders, a well-filled bodice, and fit tightly around her waist and exquisite ass, flaring to a loose swaying fit as it cascaded down her thighs to just above the knee. It looked to be expensive silk. Her mane flowed and bounced as she walked. I don’t know that I had ever seen a lovelier sight.

She brought kaçak casino her arms up for a hug as she approached and I reached around her waist to pull her in so as to reciprocate. My hands felt the taut flesh of her lean body under the silk, the gentle curve of her upper waist and the tight muscles of her lower back.

“Why hello, Theodore,” she crooned.

“Good evening, Cassandra. Glad you could make it, young lady,” I replied.

She had an infectious giggle and our hands both lingered on one another just a moment longer than they really needed to.

“I see you’ve already made friends with the bartender,” she observed.

“I have indeed. And you’re welcome to join me or we can sit down and get something at the table.”

She looked at the tight space available for her small frame and we looked at one another and agreed without speaking. I hailed the hostess who grabbed two menus and led us to a table for two.

I have to say I felt proud following the flowing feline form that preceded me to the table. I’m not a slouch for my age: I take care of myself and have been blessed with genes and a workout ethic that keeps me trim and tight. My graying hair curls over my ears, a bit too long some might say, and some arrangement of facial hair is always evolving on my chin — a stubbly chin strap being my accessory for this particular evening. And while most surveying our entrance might have assumed I was Cassie’s father, I liked the notion that some might think otherwise.

Her tight little ass moved seductively under the snug dress as we walked single file behind the hostess and the heels added an amazing allure to her long slender frame. We were seated by the window at a prime seat; one I doubt I would have been occupying if eating alone. We settled into our seats and our waitress asked if we’d like something to drink. Cassie asked about wines by the glass, but I interceded and opened the wine list.

“I’d like some wine too, Cass, so why don’t we get a bottle of something nice?”

“No argument from me,” she replied.

I chose a nice Brunello and the waitress went off to the cellar to find our libation. For the next hour Cassie and I were lost in conversation, both pleasant and probing. She had blossomed into a lovely young woman, as I’ve already stated, and her keen intelligence belied her gorgeous looks. What amazed me was how unaffected she seemed to be at the powers of her beauty. She’d always been that way, as long as I could remember. It was just refreshing to see that she had not become jaded or dramatically changed by her time in the big city.

But what surprised me the most is that as we settled into a very comfortable repartee, I found myself being attracted to Cassie in a way I hadn’t expected. The fact that I’d known her since she was a child suddenly slipped into the background. Her beauty, while unmistakable, was not what was holding my attention. I was being drawn in by her overall persona: her intelligence, her smile, her inquisitiveness, her engaging personality. She was the whole package, top to bottom (and what a wonderful bottom), and I was surprised, but also a little scared, at the pull and attraction I was feeling the longer we talked.

As our meal wore on and the bottle of wine was buried, our conversation turned more personal. I found out that she’d recently broken up with a long time beau and was enjoying her time to explore and make new friends.

“He was a great guy,” she explained. “But he was ready to settle down in the Jersey suburbs with 2.5 kids and a minivan. I just wasn’t ready for that. I still have a lot of traveling to do and still more than a few wild oats to sow. So…..we broke up, and I haven’t looked back. Best thing I’ve ever done, I must say.”

As she talked I looked at her in the glow of alcohol and soft candlelight. The world around us, the restaurant and all its patrons and workers, faded into the background. All that existed right then was Cassie and me. Her flawless face was even more ethereal and beautiful in the soft light at our table. She was perfect.

“How about you, Teddy? What’s been your scene since the divorce? No trouble attracting the ladies, I wouldn’t think,” Cassie opined.

“Well, it’s been good. I haven’t really been looking for anything serious. And I’ve found myself more attracted to younger women, I have to say. I’ve been quite surprised at the number of young ladies that really do appreciate an older guy. I’ve dated some ladies my age as well. But given my druthers…..” I let the sentence drift off for her to take in whatever vein she wanted.

“I can understand that. Completely. I’m here, aren’t I?”

“Very,” I replied.

“You know, I’ve noticed a number people staring at us. They probably think you’re my father. Isn’t that hilarious?” Cassie laughed.

“Cassie, they are looking at you, not me. I assure you. And if they’re wondering — let them.”

“Aww. Thank you. Well, I think it’s kind of cool. And I’ve been out with a few older guys, so it really doesn’t bother me. In fact, I think it’s kind of exciting,” she said, her eyes smiling over the rim of her glass as she took another sip. “Have you been out with many younger women since your divorce?”

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