There are some things you see, no matter how briefly you see them, that you remember for the rest of your life. And not just remember vaguely, but recall with eidetic clarity. Snapshots of your life you can never lose.
Although it was about a decade ago now, there was one brief moment, an unexpected 10 or so second, right place, right time bit of good fortune that will be carved into my brain for as long as I have the capacity to think.
After living out in the second year, I spent my final year at Uni in halls again. Anyone here who has been to a UK university in the last 10 years, or the last 100 years, can attest to the funny things you see in college residences. Bizarre costumes, stupid games, daft pranks. Although there is a difference between university life seen in films, and university in the real world, the line between the two is still not entirely cut and dry. It is not a great surprise to see people walk past you in ridiculous get up, or for a Nerf gun fight to erupt in the hallway as you walk back to your room. Depending on the college you end up in, you could find yourself living in a building where things can descend into chaos without any notice.
Nonetheless, even without my certain 'proclivities', some sights are unforgettable. For what couldn't have been more than half a minute, I saw something which was definitely far out of the ordinary, hilarious no doubt to some, and a wild dream come true to me. Walking down the hall on a Saturday evening on my way to see a friend, I heard the familiar sound of raised voices. A bunch of guys talking loudly and indistinctly to each other. Sure enough, a few moments later, about half a dozen male students came hurriedly round the corner, dressed in ordinary casual gear and sporting some very makeshift disguises. Scarfs covering their faces and hoods pulled up over their heads, dark sunglasses or ski goggles. One of a million different manifestations of University life at the weekend. The only thing that was unusual about the scene, was the company they were with.
I love mature women. Love them. Some ladies age beautifully, they pick up some lines, but don't lose their gorgeous features. They fill out just a little but maintain a good, solid hourglass figure. Start to dress more conservatively but ironically end up personifying every guys older secretary/teacher fantasy in the process. My brain has got to the stage now where it almost subconsciously notices smartly dressed women in crowds. It picks up on patterns, like the three colour tiers of a top, a smart skirt, and female legs. It's just one of those quirks of the brain, and my brain has clearly chosen it's priorities. Those little subconscious alarm bells went off the moment those guys cleared the corner, because walking amongst them were two very smartly dressed women. Older women.
I can age women pretty well, I suppose most people can, and these two were definitely in their early 50s, and from what I could see of them, had aged like a dream. On the left, a medium-short haired strawberry blonde, about 6 foot in black court heels, a good tan, good chest, nice toned calves complimented by glossy tan tights, lovely curved hips at the top of her long legs, and as I noticed a few seconds later, a solid round bum. She was wearing a white collared long sleeve cotton shirt under a snug black v-neck woolen top. She'd tucked both into a grey suit skirt that started up at the small of her waist, and followed her form closely to a little below her knees. The fitted skirt was giving her a little trouble, and the quick pace with which she walked was constantly bringing her legs to the limit of the gait the skirt would allow. At the end of each step I could see the shape of her thighs, her hips, the subtle bump of her stomach and her lovely mature bum press against her clothes.
Keeping pace with her was a lighter coloured blonde with a similar hair style. An inch or so shorter, a little bustier, still well toned but with marginally more curve to her, she was making her way down the hall a little less sure-footedly, and not quite as balanced in her patent nude heels. Her very tight blue pencil skirt that stopped at the knee showed every curve and dip of her firm mature figure and she filled out the dark blouse she wore it over just enough. An elasticated belt cinched her in the waist and added even more emphasis to her pin-up shape. Her strides were even shorter, the tapered skirt visibly stopping her short.
In itself, that sight would have been enough to take centre stage in my day dreams for a very long time. But it was immediately obvious that these ladies were not simply rushing to catch a bus with these masked guys.