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It was supposed to be just one night.

My name is Austin McGregor. I was a year out of high school, and playing minor league baseball in some back water town in Indiana. They wouldn't appreciate my description, but it had only one restaurant, one grocery store, one bank, no stop lights, and if you wanted to have a drink you had to travel out of town; it was a dry town.

Did you know that not only rock bands have groupies?

There were young women, middle aged women, even old women who followed us, even on road trips. They tried to book the same hotel we were staying at. When I say old women, I mean women over fifty. Remember I was nineteen.

Most of it was harmless, but I'll bet a lot of the guys got laid on those road trips. Those women left me alone; they thought I was too young. I thought I was too young. I mean, I was still a virgin unless you count the handjob Sue O'Hara gave me at a high school graduation party last year.

Anyhow, the night in question started with the team supporting a local charity and they auctioned off the players. High bidder got a date with the player. I was reluctant, however, all twenty-five us were required to sign up. The date consisted of something like dinner and a movie. Nothing more, although rumor has it that in past years, some of the women insisted on skipping the movie, and well, you can figure out what they wanted instead of a movie. The guys were more than willing, of course.

The auction raised a lot of money for the charity which was good. The problem was that there were twenty-five players and over thirty women bidding on us.

I was a reluctant participant. The team management encouraged; no, I mean pressured, players to participate.

I was last because I was the youngest on the team. I'd noticed this one woman, she was a blonde and older, much older than my mother. She bid on every player, and lost out to a higher bid on every player. So, when I was the only one left, she was determined.

I couldn't imagine being on a date with her. I'd have to pretend she was my mother or something. I was sure whatever movie she wanted to see, I'd have no interest, and she'd probably want to go to some fantasy French restaurant. I was more of a burger and fries guy at a sports bar with a gazillion televisions.

It didn't turn out like that. A nice restaurant in town provided the dinner, the theatre offered us tickets, and a florist even gave us flowers to bring to our ‘dates.' That was their contribution to the charity.

With my signing bonus, I'd bought a car. I picked her up, except I didn't. Mrs. Lansing thanked me for the flowers and invited me in. I may be young and naïve, but I was sure that she wasn't dressed for dinner. Fifty-one-year-old Mrs. Lansing was wearing lingerie that she might have bought at a Victoria's Secret. I mean, it was so transparent, I could see her nipples and she had a lot of cleavage showing.

"Austin, I know we have reservations at the Steak House, but I called and asked them to deliver. They were so cooperative. Can I get you a drink?"

"I'm just a beer guy."

"I'll be right back."

Mrs. Lansing wasn't too long, and sat right next to me on her living room couch. I think she was showing more cleavage. "I read your bio. You're from California. How do like our quiet, midwestern town?"

"You're right about quiet. Do they really roll up the sidewalks at 8 o'clock?"

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