logo by chick

My wife and I were talking the other day and somehow got on the subject of our doctors, i.e., out general practitioners, internists, or whatever they call them these days, and I was lamenting the fact that my doctor's office is so far away (he's near where we used to live).

Wife: Maybe you should try my doctor. She's just down the road from here. I think you'd like her.

Me: What makes you say that?

Wife: Well...she wears cute outfits.

Me: Oh yeah? Like what?

Wife: I don't know...just...she always looks so pretty. Fashionable. I'm jealous of her clothes. I'll bet they're expensive. She has this one little sleeveless dress...she looks so good in it.

Me: Really? How old is she?

Wife: About my age.

Me: So...is she a hottie?

Wife: [exasperated sigh] Alright...you know...I don't think I want you to see her after all if that's the way you're gonna think.

I was just asking... So I guess I'm stuck with my current doctor. It's probably for the best, though, because, I'm thinking, if she is a hottie and she wears cute outfits I could totally see myself getting a "happy" while she's examining me.

Although...come to think of it...would that be such a bad thing?

I stopped on the way home from work to get some boardwalk fries at the only place I know this far from the ocean that actually sells them. And as I stood there at the counter waiting for my number to be called, a woman about my age caught my eye. She was sitting at a table with someone I'm guessing was her husband. She got up and walked up to the counter to get some napkins and I smiled and said hi to her and she smiled and said hi back and we stood there looking at each other, smiling for a second or two until she turned around walked back to her seat. My eyes followed her ass as she walked away--during which time I was vaguely aware of the girl behind the counter calling out a number. I averted my gaze from the woman's ass as she sat down and then turned to look at the girl who, about three feet away from me, continued to yell out somebody's number. Number 12. Number 12. NUMBER 12! I looked at the girl, wondering where number 12 was and why he wasn't coming to pick up his fries, all the while thinking about the woman's smile and her ass. It was at least another 20 seconds and several more "NUMBER 12!!!" yells right into my ear before I finally got my mind off of the woman's ass long enough to look at my ticket which, of course, said "12" on it. So I sheepishly handed it to the girl and she looked at it and looked at me and we both burst out laughing as she handed me my fries. And as I left with my bag of fries I glanced back at the woman and noticed that she too was stifling a giggle in my direction. What can I say? It's been a long day.

If I'm only posting on Half-Nekkid Thursdays does that mean I'm still blogging? Good question. Anyway, we had a great time at the beach. As a kid I remember outdoor showers always being cooooold, but this one, mercifully, had both hot and cold running water--a blessing for those cooler early evenings when the sun has already dropped below the roofs of the houses. 

OK, folks, I'm off to the beach for a week. If I'm lucky, this time tomorrow I'll be making love to some sweet girl under the moonlight with the sound of the surf in the background (hey Chick, didn't you say something about wanting to go back to the beach?). But, realistically, I'll settle for a little cuddling under the stars with my wife. Have a good one.

The other day I stopped at a nice little deli that had some tables and chairs out on the sidewalk. I went inside and was standing in line at the counter when a very pretty young girl walked in the door and caught my eye. After placing my order I walked over to the soda fountain, filled my cup, and then glanced over at the girl who was now standing in line. She was the picture of beauty in a very sweet sort of way. A perfect angel, if you will. I looked away, but then looked back a moment later to see her looking at me. Our eyes locked and we both smiled at each other.

Moments later they called my name for my sandwich. I picked it up, went outside, found a table, and proceeded to slowly eat my sandwich while trying to familiarize myself with the intricacies of a new cell phone I had only just gotten the day before. It is a camera phone, and I was just starting to play around with learning the camera settings when the girl walked out of the shop and into my field of view. She stood there on the sidewalk looking up and down the street, presumably waiting for someone who was coming to pick her up.

It was about this time that I finally figured out how to turn on the phone's camera feature, and I looked at the girl who was maybe ten paces away from me, and looked down at the phone and saw that she was perfectly framed in the display. It was just too easy to press the button and...

Click.

I had a picture of her.

Curiously, almost immediately after I took the pic, she turned around, saw me sitting at the table, and walked over to where I was sitting. And she stopped...standing a few feet from my table...looking right at me.

Could she know that I had just taken her picture? No, no way. She wasn't even looking at me when I pressed the button, and the clicking sound was so quiet that it was completely inaudible out here on the sidewalk with all the noise and cars passing by. So I continued to play with the phone and tried to pretend that I didn't notice her standing there looking at me.

But what happened next freaked me out.

I could have sworn that she posed for me.

She stood there facing me with her back to the street, only a few feet away from me, looking directly into the lens on the phone--and smiled. I froze. I couldn't look at her. So I continued to look at her image in the phone instead. And waited. Waited for her to turn and walk away. But she didn't move. She just stood there. I waited some more, gathered up some nerve, and then...

Click. Photo #2.

And no sooner had I taken the pic, then she turned to her side, showing a profile of her sweet young body, with her head cocked to the side, still looking directly at the phone.

Click.

And she turned again. This time facing me with her shoulders back, jutting her chest out a little, with her hands on her hips.

By this time, my heart was beating noticeably harder. What was going on here? It had to be just a weird coincidence, right? Why would a beautiful strange girl walk right up to me and pose for me to take pictures of her without the two of us ever exchanging any words?

Click.

And finally I just couldn't take it any longer. I lost my nerve. I closed the phone, slipped it into my pocket, and proceeded to finish off the rest of my sandwich. Still staring at the table. Not daring to look up at her.

But she didn't move. She continued to stand there, a few feet away from me, looking in my direction. Until eventually, I forced myself to look up at her. And there she was looking directly at me. I smiled a curious smile at her. And she smiled back. And we stayed like that for a couple seconds. Staring into each others eyes. And then she turned and walked off. Moments later a car pulled up and she got in. The car drove off. And she was gone.

Did that really happen? Did I really snap four pictures of her?

I did. I have the pics to prove it. And in each pic except the first she is looking right into the camera. And if you didn't know otherwise you would assume that she was someone I knew...posing...plain as day...for me to take her picture.

Weird.

There's something about an outdoor neighborhood hot tub at night isn't there? A place where you just sit around and chat. Or don't chat. And steal glances and smiles at other people who, for all practical purposes, are dressed in not much more than their underwear. Could there be a better way to meet people and socialize? I'm thinking no. Happy HNT.