September 21st, 2018 
Anonymous 
Cougar
Every neighborhood has a cougar, that sultry divorcée whom all the other women seem to hate.
When you walk in the kitchen, the gathering of moms goes silent. However, you hear them mention her name when you walk out and head down the hall. The neighborhood men are always giving the cougar sidelong glances, making sure their wives don’t catch them doing it. And she ignores them all, gardening in her short shorts and halter top or laying out sunbathing. To top it all off, there seems to be an endless parade of workmen in and out of her house.
And then you encounter the cougar at the grocery store. She recognizes you and asks if you’d be interested in mowing her lawn. She needs you for the next six weeks, since her gardener fell from a tree and broke his arm. You rapidly agree to show up the next day and walk away quickly. You’re desperately hoping that the cougar didn’t notice the bulge that started in your pants as soon as she spoke.
You become the envy of your friends – “you lucky dog,” they all say.
Nevertheless, your hands are sweating as you ring her doorbell the next morning. Your nervousness is partly the cougar, and also worrying if dad notices you’ve taken the mower without asking him first. Forgiveness is often easier to get than permission, in your family.
She opens the door and smiles at you, peeking from behind the door. “Sorry, sweetie,” she says, “I’m not dressed yet. Go ahead and get started in front, and knock on the door again before you start the back, or if you need anything. OK?” You nod and give a weak grin, turning away in the direction that puts your back to her soonest. Dang trouser snake insists on misbehaving whenever the cougar is near.
Doesn’t this sound like the start of a fun scenario? What happens when you again knock on the door? Are you brave enough to ask for your pay in sexual favors? Call me now and let’s complete the story.
Linda
866-930-0008 x310
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