It had been a tiring day and long trip up to Liverpool, but Lauren said she was going to meet me at a bar on Strand Street in the city centre. We had talked about it on and off for a while, and we had agreed on our date and time, but it was now past 8 PM and she was meant to be here for 7. I checked my phone again, nothing.
Disappointedly, I finished up my drink and made my way out of the bar. Somehow, somewhere, my wires got badly crossed...my instincts let me down. It wasn't like me.
Deep in thought, I headed down Strand Street towards my hotel, rounded a corner, and bumped straight into her. I had to clutch at her arms to keep her from falling over.
"Nick! I was just coming to meet you!, so so sorry I couldn’t get here earlier…kids and all that…” she blushed a little as she tried to explain.
I felt an instant stab of desire in my guts at the realisation she hadn't stood me up.
She was wearing a simple knee-length coat and what looked like a blouse and patterned tight skirt underneath it and black high heels (damn she knows how much I like heels). She was like a ruffled Bridgette Bardot, and the urge to take her somewhere private and spend an evening fucking her senseless was just all-consuming.
I checked my watch to distract myself and get my thoughts in order.
"What time do you call this?" I asked stupidly.
"Let's go back inside and I'll tell you all about it," she said, looking mortified. "I'm parched."
Back in the bar, we settled in a snug with our drinks. When she shrugged out of her coat, her silky blouse stretched tautly across her full breasts and gaped between the buttons giving me a fleeting glance of black lace and creamy, white skin. I could see the raised outline of nipples against the soft fabric and my cock stirred. I cleared my throat.
She picked up her glass of wine and held it out, oblivious to my discomfort.
"Cheers!"
"Yes, here’s to a good night! Cheers, Lauren!”
There was something unconsciously sexy about her, the way she moved and sat and gestured as she talked, something about the kids and her mom and broken car. To be honest, I wasn't really paying much attention. Not that she was boring, I enjoyed the sound of her voice, I just couldn't take my eyes off of her mouth.
Soft, pink lips. A hint of gloss.
I shifted in my seat, taking a drink from my gin and tonic. A sudden image of her kneeling in front of me with those same soft lips parting around the shining head of my swollen cock had popped unbiddenly into mind. When she put the glass to her mouth, I could just see the pink tip of her tongue gently rimming it as she swallowed. She lowered it back to the table and licked the wine from her lips.
"And that's why I'm late...sorry! If I'd missed you, I'd have kicked myself."
She sipped her wine again and glanced at me over the glass. Again with the tongue. I shuffled, desperately wanting to adjust the growing bulge in my trousers. It was agony. If I got any bigger I'd explode.
At a table nearby, a pink-cheeked couple held hands over a bunch of carnations.
"Sorry, I didn't think to buy flowers."
"I'm allergic." She laughed. "Anyway, a tenner says she wishes he bought roses."
I chuckled. "Poor bastard thinks he's getting lucky."
"Not unless he's got a box of chocolates in his pocket." She was quiet for a moment or two, then licked her lips again. She seemed apprehensive. "Can I tell you something?"
"Of course."
She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it and shook her head.
"Never mind, it doesn't matter."
"No, go on."
"Really, it's nothing."
"If you've got something on your mind, I'd rather you told me."
She looked across at me steadily, assessing, then buried her nose in her glass and swallowed hard before resting it down carefully and taking a deep breath.
Her expression softened. "The thing is, it’s been a long time, well since I was with a guy and well you know.”
I opened my mouth to be sarcastic, but then decided judiciously against it. Her cheeks had grown ruddy again. I made do with nodding.
She hurried to explain. "It's just, well you know, single woman, blonde, most guys hit on me. They try their luck. I turn them down. That's how it goes."
I nodded again. "I guessed you'd be beating them off with a stick."
She shifted in her seat. “But with you, well it’s not quite like that. The thing is...you're the first one I haven't turned down." Her eyelids lowered and she peeked at me through dark lashes.
"The first?" I repeated. The thought hadn't occurred to me, but as she said it, a pleasurable warmth suffused my body. "Why me?"
She bit her lip. "Well, we just seem to understand each other; I don’t know, it’s a connection…and I needed to know how you felt, because I wanted...”
Her voice trailed off, and she bit her lip again looking bashful.
"Wanted what?" I prompted.
"The thing is, this sort of thing doesn't happen very often, if at all, and well I’m so horny at the moment, and then when you asked me out.”
I nodded, unable to speak.
"And then when you asked me out it made me wonder if...if., you probably wouldn't...I mean...I don't want to assume...you know," she muttered.
"Assume what?" I replied tentatively.
She ducked her head. "I didn't want to assume just because you asked me out for a drink that you felt the same thing...that you wanted to...to...sleep with me," she finished, taking a deep breath.
I didn't dare look at her, instead twisting the glass around and around on its coaster. The bulge in my trousers throbbed violently.
She groaned and put her palm to her hot cheek. "I'm so sorry, I've embarrassed you! I shouldn't have mentioned it!"
I swallowed with great difficulty and shook my head. "I'm not embarrassed. But if you're worried about me forcing myself on you."
"No!" She burst out so forcefully the hand-holding couple nearby looked up. She ducked her head and lowered her voice. "I mean, no, I wasn't worried. If I was worried about that I wouldn't have met up with you. The problem is, I didn't want to assume you wanted to sleep with me, because...well...because I badly wanted to sleep with you and I didn't want to scare you off.”
I tried to get my stunned head around the logic. "Are you saying you agreed to go out with me because you wanted to sleep with me?"
She chewed her bottom lip. "Would you think badly of me if I said yes?"
I shook my head slowly, hardly daring to believe my ears.
She brushed her fringe out of her eyes. "It's just that," she looked over her shoulder to see if anyone was listening, "you're working in London, I’m in Liverpool, I couldn't waste too much time sounding you out...it's not like we can see each other every day. This way we can get the question out of the way and move on."
"The question?" I was totally gobsmacked, hardly able to think in words of more than one or two syllables.
"Yes, the question: do you want to sleep with me? I didn't want to assume. That's why I thought I better ask. You might just have wanted a quiet drink."
I finished my drink, placing the empty glass on the table. "Can I be frank with you?"
Her eyes grew round. "Y...yes."
"I'm forty-eight years old," my voice dropped low, "and I have never...ever...wanted a woman the way I want you right now."
Her mouth dropped open.
"Put your coat on."
She wordlessly did as I told her. Out on the street, I raised a hand to hail a passing cab.
"Your hotel is only round the corner," she whispered, clutching my hand tightly, "it’s going to be quicker to walk." Both our palms were damp. "The taxi will take longer in the traffic."
We didn't say much as we walked...small-talk seemed unnecessary. The hair on the nape of my neck stood on end. Goosebumps peppered my skin.
"Up here," she said suddenly, "it's a shortcut."
We turned up a narrow flight of stone steps leading to a walkway, an alley of sorts, whose shadows were punctuated at intervals by the dim arcs of light from a handful of Victorian-styled lamps.
She skipped up the steps, and I followed hesitantly. Grey, Victorian buildings loomed darkly above us on either side.