The meal was very pleasant. It was certainly grander than what I was normally used to. Over the last hour or so I had become aware that Mrs. G. was paying undue attention to me. Whenever I looked up, I usually found her looking at me. She had that certain sort of disapproving half smile with the attendant lip twist which was more than a little unnerving; it was as though she was waiting for me to make some sort of gaffe or to catch me stealing the family silver. Again - a complete misreading of the signals.
Maybe I should spend some time describing my physical impressions of Mrs. G. I'm not great at estimating women's ages but I would say closer to 50 than 40. At around five foot three she had what I would have described as an average figure with maybe a little positive emphasis in the bust department. She was wearing slacks that accentuated what appeared to be a well-formed butt. The loose blouse she wore was short sleeved and thus displayed her slim, delicate arms to some advantage.
Her hair was a silvery blonde that appeared natural and was stylishly short. Her hair color was matched by her porcelain skin. Both were in a stark color contrast to her eyebrows which were very dark and perfectly formed. They were a prominent feature. I cheerfully disclose a powerful predilection for a well-shaped, full, dark eyebrow. Call me kinky but the eyebrow form of an Emma Watson or a certain Cara Delevingne definitely winds my clock.
If you wanted to be picky you would point out the small spider webs creases at the corners or her eyes and mouth but overall her face was nicely put together with high cheek bones and large pale blue eyes. Everything seemed legitimately authentic and decidedly attractive. No Botox or surgery here. I'd place money on the fact that she would have been an absolute stunner in her day. Overall, she was possibly a little Doris Dayish in appearance especially if you removed the two furry caterpillars above her eyes. She was a definite milf, maybe a gilf, in anyone's book.
After lunch we retired to a large verandah overlooking the impressive grounds of the home. Mrs. G's. extensive garden was locally respected and admired. My mother had explained to Mrs. G. that my degree was in molecular biology, so I was extended a rather erroneous invitation to tour her garden sexchat. I feigned polite interest and so off we set. The first five minutes involved a ridiculously in-depth explanation of all the plantings down a ten-yard path that led away from the verandah.
As we rounded the corner at the bottom of the path, we were lost to view from the rest of our group. She instantly went into a defensive crouch and, with a swiveling head, intently scanned the vicinity. Her intensity was such that I too looked for some as yet undetected threat. It was as though her flight or fight response had kicked in. As I later reflected, I should have interpreted it as her flight, fight or fuck response. Once she was satisfied that we were alone, she moved right up to me and clutched my forearms. She pulled me close until our torsos were touching. She smirked, "So, you've managed to get me alone with you, you naughty boy. I've seen the way you have been looking at me. You want to have your wicked way with me don't you." She paused, looked away into the distance and then with a voice redolent with resignation announced... "I realize that I'm powerless to resist your overwhelming advances. I will submit to your dreadful desires." She sighed theatrically and gave me a sidelong look, in the process raising one of those gorgeous eyebrows. She was seemingly trying to read my response to her absurd assertions. I blinked rapidly in disbelief but remained speechless. Time stood still as I tried to frame an appropriate response to this most bizarre and unexpected proposition.