It was hot that summer. The kind of hot that makes you want to take a cold shower and lay naked on top of the bed under a fan, hot. That is exactly what Mel was doing when I walked in the room.
She caught me staring at her damp body.
“It’s hot,” she groaned.
“It most certainly is,” I said, staring at her tits, her nipples still hard from the cold water.
“Hmmm. You like seeing me like this, don’t you?” she asked.
I did like seeing her like that. I still hadn’t gotten used to it. The age-gap was new for both of us. I was in my mid-30s, her in her early 20s. Neither of us had been looking for someone that far outside of their “normal” range, but we had both been bored on Tinder, widened our age range and matched. We’d met at a little pub on a Saturday afternoon for our first date. That had been about two weeks before she was lying there asking me if he liked what I saw.