how he seduced me

So I said there was a story of how he seduced me and here it is. I was bartending at a tavern close to campus in the University town where I live and he came in, the Artist, on a Saturday afternoon in August. He was new in town and it was a quiet shift so talked more than I do with most people. There was a party that day, a reception for one of the other bartenders who had gotten married that day and I invited the Artist to come along. I even told him up front "this is not my way of hitting on you" as we walked there. He was young which I like although I had no idea at the time just how young he was but I had a girl, a woman, that I was way into then and he didn’t even register in my mind like that.
He kept coming in from time to time and one day we went out after my shift to a beer tasting with some of my friends. I’m very social and often the ringleader, the one that gets random people together, I like that. So the friends ditch us for another bar and I offer to drive him home. He invited me in but I didn’t go, I wasn’t sure what that meant. My college years were over 15 years ago and things had changed so I was unsure if "do you want to come in?" still means what it used to and I had things to do. Later one of my friends laughed at me and said that never changes. Another day, another opportunity but this time I went in. By this time I knew that he was 15 years younger than my 38 and I was oddly nervous. The Artist, he’s not a talker so I made up for it, terrified he would kiss me and terrified that he wouldn’t. He put books in my hands, art books, graffiti books, and he began to seduce my mind. I left that night out of fear and feeling sixteen again.
Another day, another opportunity. More art books to occupy me, I’m sure he could see right through me. This time he stopped my nervous chatter when he pulled me into his lap and kissed me. I was wearing a longish 1940's style, cranberry colored skirt. He was wearing jeans. This matters because he pushed that skirt up and moved me over his crotch. He pushed me back and forth until the friction from the denim on my clit made me orgasm right there in his lap. "Do you know the word frottage?" I asked. He didn’t know the word but he sure knew how to work me. I was hooked from that moment. It is always the worst (or the best maybe?) when they know that the brain is the biggest sex organ there is.