The first image that comes to mind when you hear the name “Roosevelt” is, more than likely, that of a larger-than-life icon of a bygone era – wearing a summer fedora, perhaps with a long ivory cigarette holder propped in his mouth. It’s the image that I would have thought of upon hearing that name for the majority of my life; that is, until I met Rosie.
My wife and I had just moved to a new city to be closer to her family. It was an exciting time, filled with the mix of fear that comes with leaving the comforts of an established life and the giddiness of meeting new people, starting new jobs and exploring new places. I was in my mid-30’s, so it was the perfect time for a shot in the arm of stimulation to counter the mundane sense of routine that life had turned into after leaving my 20’s.
My wife has a fairly large family, and her youngest brother, Reid, was just finishing up his freshman year of college. As the summer approached, it was time for college students everywhere to figure out how to move back home with their parents while maintaining the newfound sense of independence they had discovered over the previous ten months. Hence, it was time to look for a summer job (or even better, an internship) that would pay enough to keep the party going, but that didn’t take up too much of the precious time in which to participate in said debauchery.
Reid, the poor guy, was largely unsuccessful at this parlay, securing a job that paid him very little and took up the majority of his days from Thursday-Monday. Not only did this leave him with a weekend consisting of Tuesday & Wednesday, but because he had to start so early in the morning, it effectively robbed him of any fun on the nights before work days. His girlfriend, on the other hand, had her situation figured out perfectly – except for one thing.
My wife approached me one evening in the middle of May. “Hey, so you know the girl that Reid has been dating?” she asked.
“Yeah, sure” I responded. “I mean I know of her” I clarified, since I had never actually met (or seen) her.
“Well, she landed an internship at a live music club here in town but it’s really far from her parents’ house – so she’s trying to find a place to stay for the summer.”
“Ok, I’m not sure what *I’d* be able to do about that? We hardly know anyone here.” I answered, completely clueless as to where she was going with this.
“I was thinking we could offer up our extra room” she said.
“I mean, sure, if that’s something you want to do then it’s fine with me” I conceded, knowing that even if I didn’t want to do it, we would end up doing it anyway. “What’s this girl like though? Is it gonna just be awkward having her here all summer?”
“Why don’t I float the idea with Reid, and we can all meet up so we can make sure it’ll be a good fit?” my wife proposed. As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t really argue with that.
“Alright, that sounds good. Oh, one more thing – what’s this girl’s name?”
My wife lights up. “You’re gonna love this – her name is *Roosevelt*. Can you believe that? I don’t know what her parents were smoking when they thought of that one! But she goes by Rosie.”
As if I wasn’t feeling enough pressure from my wife on this whole situation, it turns out that it’s the last week of the semester and Rosie’s internship was starting the following weekend. *So much for making sure it’s a good fit*, I thought to myself. The meeting seems like a formality at this point, and the prospect have having our very own college student to take care of for the summer is all but a foregone conclusion. I’m trying to stay positive by telling myself that it could be nice to have some youthful energy in the house. Worst case scenario, it’s a complete drag but will be over in three months.
We arrange to meet up with Rosie & Reid (and the rest of the family) that weekend at a bowling alley. My wife and I were running a little late, so we hurried in to get our shoes and proceeded to find our group. Looking around, I don’t see any new faces.
“Rosie is just picking out her ball,” Reid informs us. As I struggle to knot the tattered laces of my temporary shoes, I hear his update. “Here shes comes! Hey guys, meet Rosie.”
I look up from my laces and see a familiar set of red, white & blue shoes standing about three feet in front of me. The ugly shoes could not possibly be more contrasted by what I saw next. As my eyes looked up in slow motion, I gazed at the luscious caramel posts emerging from the ratty shoes; the skinny legs of a young woman who didn’t work out, and didn’t need to. Farther up, her thighs looked to be about the size of my two-handed grip and displayed a well-defined gap between them, with her tight shorts accentuating it right at the crotch. Her legs seemed endless, probably because her cut-offs landed so high on her thighs that the pockets poked out at the bottom. Moving up, I noticed that the high waist on her “mom jean” style shorts covered her belly button, but her cut-off t-shirt gave me a glimpse of her fit midriff. Under her shirt was a pair of (what I could only imagine were firm, perky) tits that were somewhere between an A & B cup; the perfect size for her slight, lanky frame.
Her face wore a cheery, toothy smile that almost contradicted the sultry, dark brown eyes inlaid just inches above it. Heavy, manicured eyebrows dominated her facade, which was capped off with a mane of thick black curls that danced on her shoulders as she nervously bounced on her toes and waved meekly.
“Hi!” I said, probably too eagerly, as I stood up and held out my hand. “Nice to meet you!”
As she reached out her hand and touched mine to shake it, I noticed her long, slender fingers and her pristine french manicure. Her other hand cradled the large bubblegum-pink bowling ball she had selected only moments earlier, which showed off the slight muscle definition in her arm. As I stood and gazed at her, I realized that she was not as tall as she seemed from my initial perspective – maybe 5’5″ – and was probably 95lbs soaking wet.
“It’s nice to meet you,” she said sweetly. “Thank you so much for your generosity.”
It took me a second to remember why we were meeting. “Oh, you’re welcome! Thank you!”
She laughed, and I realized how dumb I sounded. “Thank *me*? For *what*?” she said, still smiling.
I let out an embarrassed laugh. *Goddammit, play it cool man!* “Well, thank you for being so polite, I guess!” *And thank you for wearing those shorts, and for being a hot piece of ass that will be sleeping in the next room for the next few months. Fuck, this is gonna be great.*
When I realized that we had held on each other’s hands for a little too long, I awkwardly relaxed my grip which resulted in her fingertips slowly sliding across my palm. This got me wildly excited and I immediately felt the blood rush into my groin and my cock started to firm up. I quickly came back to reality and looked around to make sure no one else had noticed the sexual tension (or the tension in my pants); everyone was completely oblivious, lost in the task of trying to figure out how to get our names to display on the scoring screen. *Phew. That was a close one.*
As I spent the rest of the afternoon watching Rosie bend over to try and persuade her bubblegum-pink ball to stay out of the gutter, her marbled denim shorts creeping up to expose her tight cheeks, all I could think was, *it’s gonna be a fun summer*.
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/xij1qc/rosie_f_19_part_1
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