tagMatureA Day at the Races: Race 01

A Day at the Races: Race 01

byhallfullat40©

It's a gray old morning typical of winter in Melbourne, you miss the sun but that's just how it is. I'd hate it in some ways if it wasn't like this, the constant sunshine and heat in the tropics isn't my scene, I love having four seasons. With the seasons comes the variety, the change in mood, the change in activities and most importantly, the change in what the ladies wear.

I'm up and about earlier then I normally would be on a Saturday, especially one after a few Friday night drinks to finish off the working week. No hangover, but feeling just a little seedy. I dig the suit out of the cupboard, it's still wrapped in the dry cleaning plastic from the last time it was done. The suit doesn't get much of a workout but every now and then you have to go the extra yard. It's aging a bit now but holding up okay, the navy blue was a good choice, something that will never really go out of style. Iron the shirt to go with it, dig out a tie socks and jocks and the outfit is pretty well ready to go. That's one advantage of being a guy, just a normal guy not a metro sexual one, it doesn't take long to get ready to go out. A little breakfast, a shower and a shave, throw on the suit and I'm ready to roll.

The reason for the suit today is that I'm off to the races to watch one of my horses go around. Sounds impressive when you say it like that, in reality I have a very small interest in two horses, not much more than a hair in their tails but enough for them to mean a lot to me. On top of that, enough for me to be officially recognised as an owner and to receive the recognition and rights that brings. Rights that include entry to the members area at the races today, an area away from the regular hoi polloi, an area where I rarely go but make the most of when I can. No suit, no entry though so it's well worth the effort.

When I arrive at the track I make my way to the Race Day Office to collect my owner's ticket and complimentary race book before making my way past the man in the green jacket who would normally be turning me away. It's a strange feeling in some ways, special areas for special people but I guess in reality it's all about those that can afford the membership and those that can't, or that choose not to. I've had great days on both sides of the divide but in some ways it's almost more me to be on the other side. Not today though, today I'm with the toffs.

Looks like a typical winter race day crowd, in spring the bar would be full and buzzing, today there is a much smaller crowd and much more relaxed atmosphere. I like days like today, the queues are short, the service is quick and there's even seats available. Not that I'm really the find a spot and settle in for the day type like many are but it is nice to be able to sit down now and then and embrace it all. All? I hear you ask, well for me all is a bit of a punt, maybe a drink or two and a bite to eat but most of all, a chance to enjoy the views. I love to watch.

I begin scanning the room for the right seat, the seat with the best view, the seat where I can take in all the day has to offer. Looking around there are a few choices, ladies of various ages, mothers with children, grandmothers with grandchildren, ladies with their partners and ladies in groups. There are probably ladies on their own as well but for me the priority isn't really who she's with, it's how she presents. That's when I see her, at a guess she is late 50's, maybe early 60's, she is there with a man that looks to be her husband who is busily chatting with his mates and working through the race book while drinking his beer. She has a champagne that she is slipping slowly and has obviously settled in for the afternoon. Her outfit is what caught my eye most of all. A black jacket covering a sheer white blouse, matching black skirt that sits comfortably above her knee, black stockings and heels top the outfit off. She isn't a small lady, but not overly large either, pleasantly plump would be a fair description. I think to myself, she's the one and luckily find a spare seat at a table close by with a perfect view.

She hasn't noticed me yet, that's a not a bad thing though, there's plenty of time. I settle at the table, take out my pen and open the race book to begin my study, not of the racing form of course but rather of her. I am very impressed, I do love her outfit and now get a chance to observe it a little more closely. There is a colourful hat on the table next to her which suggests to me a certain playfulness, well hopefully. She wears glasses as she reads her race book, they have red frames that match the red lipstick and nails. I also notice she is wearing a number of rings, I smile to myself as I think "ring theory". I don't know if it's real or not, possibly just pure coincidence, but many of my most enjoyable viewing days have been when the lady wears many rings. Maybe it shows a little bit of a "look at me" type of attitude, an attitude I hope will apply today.

The jacket is buttoned, covering much of the blouse, being a little chilly today that makes sense. Her knees are together and her legs turned away from her husband who is still laughing and carrying on with his mates. His focus is definitely not where mine will be today. The heels catch my eye next, they are surprisingly high for a lady of her age, a thin stiletto heel that is at least 5 inches in height. She doesn't look very tall, it's hard to tell as she sits but probably not much over 5 foot. It's funny that although I'm just under 40 and have never lived with other than meters and centimeters, some things have to be in feet and inches, height and heel height being two of those things. The shoes are a strappy type of sandal that I love, oh so sexy. I can't help but think my luck it is in today.

Race one is now just a few minutes away and she must have made her selections, as she stands and walks across to the betting counter to place her bets. I watch as she walks, admiring the tightness of the skirt across her backside and thighs. Standing the skirt drops to just above her knee, the perfect length I think, long enough to be proper but short enough to hopefully provide a show as the day progresses. The betting counter is behind where she is sitting so she walks away from me as she moves towards it and that's how I notice the seams on her stockings, yes they are old fashioned, but they always get my attention. I subconsciously let out a small groan when I see them, my cock which was already a little hard from what I was seeing now springs to attention. I discreetly adjust it a little, to make it sit more comfortably. Today, is going to be a very interesting day.

As she walks back to her seat, she looks across at me for the first time. I look away as she does, blushing and a little embarrassed to have been caught watching her return to her seat. I look back and she is now sitting again after having told her husband what she had backed. I decide I need to get my bet on as well, my selections had been made earlier that morning so it's just a case of checking the odds and placing my bet, I walk past her on the way to the betting counter watching her as I walk, she looks up once again, I smile a little and walk by to place my bet. There wasn't really a reaction but that's okay, there is still plenty of time. I am still a little blushed and my cock is still hard, the suit jacket and my race book carried in front of me cover things a little. I think to myself, I wonder if she noticed?

I would normally go out to watch the race but not this time, I return to my seat as the horses move into the barrier stalls. My selection jumps well and leads the race as expected, coming to the turn it's going well and on straightening gets away from the field a little. Approaching the 200m it's under a little more pressure and some of the back markers start running on. I get a little nervous and as many a grandstand jockey will do in this situation I slap the race book gently on my thigh to help get him home, letting out a little "kick you good thing" as I do. My pick just holds on and I let out a "wahoo" as the rest of the crowd that backed the winner cheers. A winning start to the day.

Sure it's embarrassing to do the little things I do by habit in this situation but it's the races and many do much worse. It's then that I notice that she has looked across at me, I blush even more deeply realising that I must have been louder than I thought. She smiles, I laugh a little and pretend to shield my eyes with my hand as if was tying to hide. She giggles a little or at least seems to just before her husband pops into the picture to ask quite loudly if she saw how unlucky he had been and if she wanted another champagne. She nods and he heads off to the bar, she looks up again and our eyes catch, this time it's her that looks away and I smile knowing we have now made contact, well contact of sorts. Shortly after her husband returns with her champagne and beer for him and his mates who he rejoins. I take this chance to get myself a drink, and decide a gin and squash is the way to go. Not a very manly drink but I'm not a beer drinker and there aren't that many choices on course. Returning to my seat I look across, she is reading the race book again but I hope that now the ice has been broken, things will begin to liven up.

It isn't long before our eyes meet once again, I smile and glance away before looking back. Am I having any effect, does she feel embarrassed that I am looking, does she want me to stop, will she say something to her husband or, as I hope, will she play along? The answer is quick to follow as she slowly crosses her legs looking at me as she does. I smile again, this time I can't look away, watching her legs as the skirt rides a little higher to accommodate the change in position. My cock throbs gently as I see an extra couple of inches of stocking encased thigh. Sure it's not much to most, but to me it's a massive turn-on. She smooths her skirt and continues sipping her champagne as her foot begins to gently bounce. I am not an expert on body language but know enough to know that is a good sign. She knows I'm watching, the question now is does she like that I'm watching?

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