Same Old Stud

Michael had aged well. He still looked very handsome as if he were in his early thirties, and not late forties. To him, Miranda looked much the same way. She was still quite beautiful with a well kept body. They smiled at each other as they looked each other over.

It was Michael who finally broke the Mexican standoff. "Well, you don't look a day over thirty, Andie" he complemented her.

'Thank you!" Miranda flushed red. "You're looking pretty good good yourself. It's nice to see you again Michael. So what have you been doing with yourself lately?"

"Well, I'm retired from sports. I now own a chain of fitness centers around the country, and I'm a scout for the New England Patriots."

"The New England Patriots? Is it true they cheat?" Miranda recalled deflate gate, and how one of New England's scouts was caught filming one of their opposing teams illegally. She began to wonder if that was Michael who got caught doing the filming.

Michael got a little more than cross with her over that. "The Patriots don't cheat. And that film thing? It was all just a big misunderstanding. Everyone blew it out of proportion."

"I take it you're the one who was caught doing the filming?" Miranda couldn't help herself. She was on a roll. It seemed Michael would never change, and always had to cheat his way through life in every aspect. This was like sweet as she grinned at him like a Cheshire cat.

Michael pointed his finger at Miranda, and was about to say something, but instead his jaw dropped open, and not one word came out. Then he quickly recovered, and retorted, "If I'm such a cheater, why did you agree to meet with me?"

The question caught Miranda entirely off guard. Why had she agreed to his friend request? Why was she even here, sitting across the table from him? She scoured her mind for answers, but could find none. "I don't know" she finally admitted. "Maybe I thought we could bury the hatchet after all these years. Maybe I was just hoping we really could be friends again."

"Well you have a very strange way of going about becoming friends again" parried Michael. "I'd say you want to be more like frenemies."

Miranda sighed as she brought her hand to her forehead. "I don't hate you, Michael. I'm not your enemy, though I'm not really your friend at this moment either." She suddenly felt Michael's foot pushing between her legs, and opening her thighs. She gasped as his big toe expertly found the crotch of her panties, and began to gently rub up and down her slit.

Michael smiled as he pressed his big toe into her snatch, taking her panties in with it. "I know exactly what we are, and why we're both here. We have some unfinished business with each other. Why don't we go somewhere more private?"

Miranda found the heat inside her body rising from his ministrations. He was slowly turning her on, and she was letting him.