Morning came quickly. The day that I was to meet Jen was upon me and I was no more prepared for it than a 2-day-old kitten. Yes, I had planned on this weekend for over a month. Yes, we had spoken by phone and e-mail for two months prior, nailing down the date, to ensure that we would both be free. And, yes, my bags were packed and the train ticket had been paid for. But these things meant absolutely nothing. I was a bundle of nerves. Worry and elation played havoc with my emotions. What if she thought I was not attractive? What if I arrived on the train and no one came to the station to meet me? What if she FORGOT???
I forced myself up and out of my bed. It was too late to worry about it now. And I had just spoken to her last night and she seemed to be as excited as I was. I headed for the bathroom and started the shower, quickly filling the small space with steam. I stepped in and soaped up, trying to do as thorough a job as possible. When I finished, I wrapped a big, thick towel around me to dry off and headed for the bedroom. I glanced at the clock on the way past and noted the time. ‘Shit!’ I thought. I had less than an hour to get dressed and get to the station. I made it, but just by the skin of my teeth.
Once the train began, I sat back and thought on how I had stumbled across Jen in
the midst of cyber-space. She had a little site containing some things of interest to me. Our friendship grew from funny little jokes, to heavy flirtation, hot e-mails and long phone calls. She was utterly gorgeous: long, thick hair, beautiful skin, innocent eyes and legs that went for eternity. She sounded so earthy on the phone, like a woman is supposed to sound and she made me laugh. I was amazed that she would even want to meet up with someone like me. My mother would say that I am “ghetto fabulous” but what that means is I am a city chick, through and through. Short, curvy (too curvy in my opinion) and brown with an accent from hell. I know I was worrying needlessly, but hell, you can see my point, can’t you?
Hours later, I stepped out onto the train station platform. My legs were a little shaky but I think I hid it well. My head started it’s heavy thumping as I tried to look unobtrusively around for Jen. She knew when the train was due and so she should be here. I saw no sign of her, but a few seconds later a soft alto voice spoke from behind me.
“Michelle?”
I turned and gazed at the woman who had been the center of my lone fantasies for the past 6 months. She was lovely. Her skin glowed so perfectly, her eyes touched with just a hint of mascara and liner. She was dressed in well-worn jeans and a cropped t-shirt with her hair pulled into a high ponytail. I laughed nervously.
“I hope so. If not, I can always change my name.” That earned me a slow, sweet smile and a gesture for me to follow. I did, entranced by the way her hips and buttocks moved beneath her jeans. If this is what I had to look forward to on this vacation, then my money had all ready been well spent.
We arrived back at her home maybe 45 minutes later. After the initial uncomfortable ness, we were back to feeling like partners in crime. For that, I was extremely grateful. She showed me where I could put my things. I had wanted to get a room while I was there, but she was very persuasive on that point and so here I was ensconced in her house, meeting her kids and feeling a little overwhelmed. I hid it well, I think.
It was about 9 or so at night when her children had finally settled down and went to bed. We were left alone, no buffers or impediments to the sexual stirrings that had plagued us all day. It seemed like I had been reaching out to touch or be touched all day long and finally, it was here. The moment we had planned and schemed for. I did not have any idea what I should do. I was lost, gazing at her in consternation. She must have seen the look on my face, because she laughed at me.
“It’s weird, isn’t it?” she whispered softly.
“Yeah, it is. I am not sure what I should do. Or even how I should do it.”
Grasping my hand in her hers, she tugged me to my feet.