Mrs. Franklin first entered my consciousness when I was ten. She had moved into the neighborhood then, at 30, or so I heard, from a large house as a widow. I have no idea why all the gossip about her flew around the entire neighborhood all the time. She was what my dad called, "A handsome woman" tall, stately looking with an air of entitlement. Young men gossiped the most, explaining that they had the fuck of their lives.

Trough my teens, I had glimpses of her in stores, once in the park. She always wore black, either a dress of a suit. I noted her calves were large and muscular and in my teens I fantasized about humping them with my erect cock. All the gossip was driving me crazy. I thought of no one else even as I began to leave my teenage years.
Recently, I turned 20, now in college but I go to a commuting school that I can afford and I just started working at C&K Groceries, one of the few specialty groceries left. They specialize in imported foods mostly from Italy.

This afternoon, I was told to fulfill an order for Mrs. Franklin. I feel it is now, finally, my turn. My heart is beating like a snare drum. I'm out of breath. I will now leave the car and meet her.