Faded Photographs

After dinner, I looked at Mitzi, and said, "That was absolutely one of the best dinners I've ever had. I am stuffed. Thank you so much, Mitzi."

"I hope you have room for some of Kayla's birthday cake. She needs to blow out all 22 candles first. I'll be right back. Kayla, would you mind picking up our dinner plates for me?"

"Sure Mom," Kayla said, as she got up from her chair.

"Can I help?" I asked.

"No, sit right there, we'll be fine," Kayla rapidly responded.

"You even sound like your mother," I said, with a smile while shaking my head in amazement.

Kayla let out a soft giggle, like Mitzi always did, and said, "Oh, Mr. Sisson, you're too funny."

"Bert . . . and you're almost too beautiful, my dear . . . If there's such a thing."

"Thanks," she said, as she leaned over and kissed my cheek while picking up my plate. She then turned and glided towards the kitchen.

It was the first time I got a look at her young, firm derriere as she walked away without anyone seeing me admire her as the real woman she was. Her ass moved with such a lovely flow and little jiggle, as she took each step. "Damn," I thought to myself, "What an enticingly delicious looking 'Tuchus'," I softly mumbled.

She came back and sat down, and asked, "Did I hear you correctly when you said you had your own greenhouse?"

"Just a small one, out back in the rear of my house. Nothing very impressive. It keeps me busy during the winter months. I don't have any hobbies to speak of, so tending to the flowers occupies my time, and it's not the least bit strenuous. I enjoy it."

"I love flowers," Kayla said. "I'd love for you to show me your greenhouse sometime, if you don't mind," she said, as she put her head down, and looked at me with her lovely hazel eyes almost touching her eyebrows.

"I don't believe this. She knows how to soften a guy's heart just like her mother too," I thought to myself. I then said, "I wouldn't mind at all. Your beauty may just be the minerals my flowers need to flourish even more than they do now."

"Oh, Mr. Sisson . . . um, I mean, Bert, I bet your tender touch is all your flowers need to flourish," she said, as she almost looked like she was giving me a seductive smile.

"Nah," I thought to myself. "Stop thinking like a dirty old man and get back to reality. She's a lovely, young, and probably innocent, lady."

"Really?" she asked, in a surprised voice. "You'd really do that for me? You wouldn't mind?"

"No, of course not, and yes, I really mean it. Just give me a call . . . anytime. Your mother has my phone number," I said, and genuinely meant it.

Mitzi, then came in with the birthday cake with the candles already lighted, singing "Happy Birthday". I immediately joined in.

It was a delightfully wonderful evening that ended with Mitzi and me mentioning possible plans for a future dinner engagement. I drove home feeling exhilarated, and for some reason, at ease with the feeling that something that had been missing may have once again been found. I was hopeful, but cautiously, optimistic.

A few days later my phone rang. It was Kayla. After the usual pleasantries, she said, "Your flowers look as beautiful now as they did when you gave them to me. See? I told you it was your tender loving touch that made them alive and lasting." She let out a soft, subtle giggle.

"That's good to hear, I'm glad you're still enjoying them. I don't do anything special, I just plant and water them," I said. "Is there anything in particular I can help you with? You're the last person I expected to get a call from. Is everything alright? I suspect it's your beauty that is keeping them hearty though, as I had originally suggested."

She sweetly said, "Oh no, everything is fine, thanks. It's just that Mom is gone for the better part of the day and I have nothing special to do. I was wondering if I could come over, and you could show me your greenhouse and yard. You did say anytime, and all I had to do was call, right?"

"Yeah, sure . . . of course you can come over. I'd love to show you my flowers. Do you like hamburgers? I can throw some on the grille when we're done and we can have a late lunch together, if you have time, and would like to," I said.

She sounded excited when she said, "Oh great, that sounds like fun, and I appreciate it. Uh . . . I prefer hot dogs, though."

I said, "I have those too. It's a date then."

"I'll bring the buns," she said.

"I have buns here," I said.

"I'll bring fresh one's," she said, in a shy little girl's voice, sounding like she wanted to feel like she was contributing in some small way.

I gave her directions, knowing she was new to the town. I told her to just pull up in the driveway and walk in the backyard through the breezeway, and that I should still be in the yard doing some light yardwork.

She giggled, and said, "Okay, but this is a new era, I have GPS, but thank you anyway. Alright, I'll see you in a few minutes . . . goodbye. See ya in a bit," then hung up.

Less than what seemed to be 30 minutes, I heard a melodic, "Good morning, Bert." I turned to witness a gorgeous goddess sauntering toward me with the most splendid, friendly smile. She was wearing an oversized T-shirt cut just above her navel with the sleeves cut about an inch from each shoulder. She was also obviously without a bra. Her shorts were very loose and flowing, with a length about 3 inches below where her young and tender pussy would be. She had open back, strapless sandals, much like the old Huarache's the girls wore when I was going to college, I think they call them Crocs now. They weren't leather, they looked more like a heavy rubber or plastic.

Her tightly toned legs were emphasized by her long, graceful strides. Her sandy-blonde hair brought out her hazel eyes beautifully. Her young, full breasts swayed and jiggled with each long slow step she took. She was a stunning sight to behold, indeed.

I stopped dead and just stared. My jaw dropped and my eyes examined every inch of this lovely woman walking towards me. They finally concentrated on the lovely movement of her full tits, with their proud nipples slightly visible under her shirt. I was awestruck and had to lean against a table I had my plant pots on. As she drew closer, her gait slowed even more.

I detected a very noticeable change in her smile, from cheery, friendly, and warm, to a one-sided upturned, mischievous, and somewhat naughty smile. "She knows I'm admiring her tits and lusting after her, and she's enjoying it," I thought to myself. She had one hand behind her back, making her T-shirt tighter around her tits, revealing more of her now hardened nipples.

With that same naughty smile, she said, "I brought the buns for your hot dogs." She paused for a few seconds, then brought her hand from behind her which was carrying the hot dog buns, and gave me a broad teasing smile.

I just started stammering out of embarrassment from getting caught, "Uh . . . Oh, Ye ..., yes, of course, thank you. I ..., I'll just bring them in the house."

She put her hand lightly on my arm, and said, "Why don't you just put them on this table here, and show me your growing flowers?" as she smiled and began slowly running her fingers over my arm.

She knew what she was saying, and doing. That "buns and hot dog" innuendo did exactly what she intended. When she said that, coupled with the way she displayed her body, her walk, and that mischievous smile, my thoughts immediately went sexual. I was hoping the flowers would put an end to her teasing me like this. "She's like her mother in more ways than just a physical nature. She's also seductively playful in what she says and how she says it, with her outwardly, purposeful, sexual body movements . . . incredibly uncanny," I thought to myself.

I gave her the 25 cents tour of my greenhouse before I suggested we start grilling the food. I did not want to get caught up in this web I felt she appeared to be weaving. I didn't know exactly what her intent was, but I had a pretty good idea, and I wasn't ready to be swept up in it, as much as my feckless mind and body were telling me differently. Besides, I didn't want to take the chance of abruptly ending something like Mitzi coming back into my life after all these years.

The rest of the afternoon was casual and uneventful. Kayla returned to her lovely, innocent, friendly self, and we had a very nice afternoon of conversation. She asked a lot of questions about her mother and our time together.

"I'll have to come back soon and get the complete tour of your greenhouse," she said, as she dramatically extended her arm, and pointed in the direction of the greenhouse. "You didn't show me that smaller room attached to it. I want to see everything you're hiding from me." The naughtiest smile I've ever seen touched her lips and she wagged her finger at me, playfully, saying, "Now, now . . . no hiding from each other," as she pulled her shoulders back, causing her tits and nipples to be better outlined by her shirts material, almost as an invitation and a surety that she was getting her point across.

She smiled, and said, "Today was fun! Did you enjoy me being here as much as I did? Thank you for a lovely afternoon, and sharing your beautiful greenhouse with me. But I should be heading home now."

All I said was, "It was a nice afternoon, wasn't it? I'll walk you to your car," as we both got up and started out to the driveway, with me following her.

I couldn't take my eyes off of her lovely, young ass, moving so deliciously under her loose fitting shorts. The curves of her ass cheeks filled out her shorts nicely, allowing me to savor the tantalizing movements with an ever so slight jiggle as she took each step. I was getting hornier than I had been earlier. As we approached her car, I said, "I enjoyed your visit more than you can imagine."

Before opening her car door, she turned to face me with that addictively glorious smile, and said, "Thank you, it was a lovely afternoon." She then took a step towards me, looked up at me, pressed her body against mine and kissed me very lovingly and long. I could feel my cock instantly responding, as I was sure she could as well. She broke the kiss, smiled again, and said, " I'm quite sure I know how much you enjoyed my being here. I hope this isn't the last time you welcome me to your house. I'd love to come back more often this summer. Good bye for now," as she placed one of her soft, tender hands on my cheek and slowly ran it down to my chin, and then got in her car. As she drove off, she waved to me, while I remained in my driveway watching her car until it disappeared. I looked down and noticed that my stiff cock was tearing at the front of my pants.

I walked back to my yard thinking to myself, "Well there, Bertram. There's no question about her knowing she turned me on, and I believe she loved it. She seems to know exactly what she wants, and how to get it. Just like Mitzi did at that age. Mitzi must have some dominant genes to have a daughter exactly like she was, and maybe still is. Fucking unbelievable."

I know . . . I know . . . I keep repeating myself, but I just can't get over how everything about her was so much like her mother. It just amazes me each time Kayla reveals another individual characteristic or quality that would generally be present in one person alone in a family. Sorry . . . I'll try to remain focused.

I sat on my patio with a cold beer, just thinking about crazy shit like, looking at the chair Kayla sat in and thinking about her sweet ass sitting there. Trying to figure out what her game was. "Was what she doing just innocent flirtatious acts of a curious woman of 22 years?" Then I thought, "No, that kiss she gave me while grinding her pussy against my cock was not innocent. She was intentionally attempting to titillate me. I better be on my toes when she's ever alone again with me."

I finished my beer, and still had this freaking hard-on, and was horny as hell, so, in my mind, there was nothing else to do but to take care of this persistent appendage of mine. I went into my house and did just that. Once I had sufficiently relieved myself, I said, "Okay Old man, you had your little fun with this fantasy, now it must end. You could never betray Mitzi and our relationship, now that she's back in my life."

Later that evening I received a phone call from Mitzi. She carried on about how nice it was of me to entertain Kayla that afternoon, and she hoped that it wasn't an inconvenience on my part. She went on telling me how much Kayla enjoyed herself and how beautiful my greenhouse and yard is. She then said, "Kayla seems to think very highly of you."

I told her that it wasn't an inconvenience at all, and that I enjoyed having her around. I then said, "We had a nice conversation while having a couple of hot dogs and some cold juice. She asked a lot of questions about you and I when we dated. She's a lovely person and seemed very interested in learning more about you from someone other than family. I enjoyed her company. The feeling is mutual. I like her very much as well"

Mitzi jokingly said, "I hope you only told her the good parts about you and me," then let out a soft, subtle laugh

"There were only good parts. Everything was excellent. If you're talking about our fabulous intimate moments, those are between you and me," I said.

Mitzi sighed, and said, "Yes, those times were fantastic and special." She giggled before continuing, saying, "I'm glad those private times will remain just our memories and haven't been shared with anyone, especially Kayla."

"You know me better than that, Mitzi," I responded.

"Yes, I know, just thinking out loud. I just wanted to thank you for today, and let you know that Kayla had a wonderful time. She did mention how nice it was and how nice it is to know that she has a place to go this summer, where she won't feel like the outsider."

"She's welcome here any time, as are you. I don't know how you feel about this, but I'm going to suggest it anyway. What do you think about me taking you out to dinner one evening and maybe a few drinks at some nice club where there's some dancing? Just as dear friends. No expectations or commitments. I know this is sudden, and if you have reservations about it, I'll understand," I nervously asked her.

"Oh, what a great idea! I'd love that, Bert. I always loved dancing with you. We danced well together, almost like we were joined together as one entity. Yes, please feel free to call me anytime," she said, enthusiastically.

I gently said, with some remorse, "Back then, we were as one.

"Mmm, yes we were," she cooed. "I'm sure we've both changed over the years. I know I have. It might be interesting seeing how much. You may not be as enamored with this older version of the girl you once knew. Life has a tendency to erase a lot of our younger priorities, and make us less exciting to be around," she cautioned. "It'll still be a fun time though, I'm sure . . . I look forward to it."

"Great! We'll talk again and make definite plans then. I'm looking forward to it too, thanks. Imagining being able to take you out to dinner again makes me very happy, thank you for that. I should let you go now, and, tell Kayla that I had a great afternoon with her and am looking forward to building our friendship even more."

"I'm very happy you asked as well, and I look forward to it too. Bert . . . I've always considered us more than just friends. I hope you feel the same way. Alright, talk to you soon, and thanks again for all you did today, along with asking me out. You make me feel like the college girl I once was . . . good night, and thanks again."

After hanging up, I sat back in my recliner and thought, "You'll always be that college girl to me." I then closed my eyes and went back to those days for a short while.

Although the photographs in my old shoebox were faded and now flawed by creases and lines, the images of those days Mitzi and I spent together were crystal clear in my mind, for the most part anyway.

After a week had passed, we made plans to go to dinner, and then a cafe where there's dancing. The evening ended up being a disappointment for both of us. That may be a little harsh, but I was shattered, and not prepared to find that Mitzi was not the same. Her views on life had changed considerably. She didn't even seem to like many of the same things she did back in college. She had noticed the same changes in me as well. It was obvious now, in my mind, that she had been clinging onto those same memories at Kayla's birthday party. We had a very friendly and adult conversation over a few drinks and ended the evening at her door.

We both decided that it was best for both of us, and our friendship, to remain simply old college friends. Any attempt to resurrect what we had back then would be obviously unattainable and fruitless. It would be unfair to each of us to compare who we are now to who we were back in our youth. The evening ended amicably. In fact, we even made jest of the fact that neither of us had changed to the point of not being open and honest with each other.

At her door, we thanked each other for a lovely evening, gave each a friendly kiss, and said good night. Before leaving I said to her, "Mitzi, please let Kayla know that she is still welcome to visit me, if she chooses to do so and you don't mind. Regardless how disappointing this evening may have been to either of us, you must know that you will always be my best friend."

Mitzi replied, "Why should I mind? Kayla is an adult woman, free to make her own choices and decisions. She and I never discuss personal social matters. Those, we keep to ourselves. She likes you, and I would never attempt to dissuade her otherwise. Kayla has always been of the mind-set that we were always just special college friends and there is no reason for her to think differently now. Oh, by the way, you're still my best friend too."

I said, "I'm glad you feel that way." I once again said good night, turned and went to my car.

I arrived home with mixed emotions. Perhaps it was naïve on my part to think that the possibility existed that Mitzi and I could pick up where we left off so many years ago. I should've known better, but I guess the naivete of those college years came packaged along with the memories. In any event, there was also a strange sense of relief . . . of which I have no explanation. I grabbed a cold beer from the fridge, sat in my recliner and reflected on everything.

I found myself thinking more rationally. "Nothing ever is as it was . . . Memories have a beginning and an end, but life is a continuum, constantly causing people to evolve. Sometimes, even creating strangers out of longtime friends, and even lovers, who have lost contact. Each having no longer very much in common, except for those memories." I found myself saying aloud, "Tonight, helped me realize that this obviously was the case with Mitzi and myself." I went back to my thoughts, "You can never go back . . . and there's just no future in a memory." I then took another long drink from my beer, not knowing exactly when I came to the conclusion that I was not in love with the woman I just had dinner with, I was in love with a memory.

Now aware that Mitzi and I could never be, I suddenly began looking at Kayla under a very different light. She had suddenly now become a beautiful, vivacious young lady that I could definitely have sex with, now emptied of any and all reservations I might've had, if given the opportunity. If her flirtatious actions in my yard were not an aberration, I was going to allow wherever her sensuous activities took us, without any feeling of guilt or obligation to Mitzi. I got up from my chair, picked up the old shoebox and brought it back to my attic where it had been stored all these years, containing the memorial souvenirs, the faded photographs, and most importantly, the memories they perpetuated.