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Teach
10-15-2017, 06:10 PM
"Nothing Beats A Great Pair of Legs!"

She was pretty. Very pretty. Striking. But what really caught my eye were her legs. Shapely. Supple. Well-proportioned. In a word: gorgeous. Let me state at the outset that while some guys like women’s boobs and other’s like a woman’s ass, I'm a sucker for a great pair of legs. What is it that ZZ TOP, the Texas rock band, sang in the early-80s: "She's got legs...she knows how to use them."

Well, this lovely cocktail waitress's legs were arousing my libidinal energies. My autonomic nervous system was working overtime. I was, at the time (1999), in Binion's Racebook in downtown Vegas. I was then staying across the street at "the Fitz".

As I recall, I was, that afternoon, just trying to relax and unwind after a morning of gambling. I was, as the afternoon wore on, developing this giant thirst. That's when I summoned this lissome cocktail waitress. "What can I get you?" she asked. I felt like saying a lap dance, but I instead opted for a Corona with a lime. "Oh, I'm sorry,” she said, “We don't have Corona. Would you like a Tecate?" I said, "Sure." As she walked away, my eyes trained on her graceful, shapely body. But what I was really focusing on was: “Below the Equator”.

About five minutes later, the waitress returns with my Tecate - with a lime. I have to say I love those drinks. So smooth. So refreshing. It reminded me of my younger days when I used to go down to the local drugstore and have several Raspberry-Lime Rickeys. Well, during the course of the next two hours I must have polished off about five or six Tecates. Coincidentally, the more I drank, the more my mind began to wander. I was turning the clock back over thirty years.

As I sat there half-baked in Binion's Racebook, my thoughts were bringing me back to a Beacon Street apartment near the Boston-Brookline line. It was the late-1960s. I was single. I was then teaching in Boston. Oh, I was drinking...and, of course, I was gambling. Oh, I would also chase women.

One of the women I occasionally dated was also a teacher. Her name was Lee. I had met Lee at one of my "house parties” (actually a studio apartment). Oh, I dated Lee, off and on, during that fall of 1968. Yes, I enjoyed Lee's company, but I found her wardrobe quite drab. Uninspiring. Oh, she had a very pleasant personality, but she dressed like she was auditioning for a re-do of Grant Wood's painting, "American Gothic" (the stolid-looking dudes, the father with his pitchfork and his daughter).

That New Year's eve, 1968-69, I didn’t date Lee. Instead, I dated a woman whom I had met through computerized dating. I recall that I double-dated. My buddy and I took our dates to The Ice Capades at the Boston Garden. Afterwards, we went back to my apartment for Chinese food, drinking and petting. Oh, we turned on the TV to watch “the ball” drop from the Allied Chemical Bldg. in Times Square.

A few days later, the Christmas vacation had ended. I was returning to the classroom. I remember that after school that first day back I groggily returned to my Kenmore Square apartment (that first day after a vacation can be brutal). As soon as I came home, I recall taking off my sport coat and unloosening my tie. At that moment, I was practically falling asleep on my couch. I wasn't home more than fifteen minutes when I hear the buzzer to my apartment. I get up. "Who is it?" I call down on the intercom. At the other end, this voice calls out, "It's Lee” (the "American Gothic" teacher). She says, "I was in the area and came by to wish you a Happy New Year." I replied, "O.K." I buzzed her in.

Now, you gotta realize that I'm "half in the bag". Seconds later, I walk over to the door to my apartment to let Lee in. When I finally opened the door, I must have blinked three times. I have to tell you: Lee looked terrific.

Well, I invite Lee in and ask her to sit down in the chair across from the sofa I was sitting in. All the while, I couldn't get over how great Lee looked. We were talking about what was going on: teaching, vacation, etc. when suddenly I notice, for the very first time, that Lee's got these great pair of legs (when we dated in the past, she always wore long skirts that hid her legs). She's got on these brown leather boots, a brown skirt and matching taupe-colored pantyhose. As we're talking, she's subtly shifting in her seat. Then, she’s crossing her legs. Inch by inch, Lee’s skirt is riding higher and higher up on her thighs. I mean it was almost as if she were wearing a mini-skirt. If her skirt rode up any higher on her supple legs, they’d be approaching her navel. At that moment, I'm beginning to sweat profusely. My mouth's getting dry. I'm beginning to feel like I'm “coming”…down with something.

Well, I gotta tell you. Even though I'm still pretty much in a fog, I'm beginning to snap to attention like a private who’s preparing to salute a captain. I'm Pinocchio. Only it ain’t my nose that’s growing.

Well, about ten or fifteen minutes later, Lee tells me she has to leave. Frankly, I was sorry to see her go; she was exciting me beyond belief. As I recall, I was almost too embarrassed to get up and show her the door. I thought, "Damn those dynamite legs of hers."

After that early 1969 visit, I dated Lee consistently over the next several weeks. We became engaged two months later. What is that ZZ TOP sang: "Oh, I want her...I got to have her." We were married in mid-June, 1969 (we’ve been married over 48 years). As the commercial used to say: "Nothing Beats A Great Pair of Legs!"

garyscpa
10-15-2017, 07:28 PM
You owe me a beer for every one of these stories I read. :D

davew
10-15-2017, 08:44 PM
Teach, did you ever write for Penthouse? your writing style seems familiar