It was almost two years after I had stayed at the guest house in Devon and had sex with the neighbour's son when out of the blue he phoned me on my mobile. At first, I didn't recognise the number and no name came up on my screen so I almost didn't answer it, but something, fate probably, prompted me to.
"Hi it's Ellis," a guy said with a faint burr to his voice.
It didn't register at first. "Sorry?" I replied assuming it was someone trying to sell me something.
He laughed. "Devon Mrs West, Mrs Dawson's B & B, bingo, car puncture and us, remember?"
It all came flooding back. I had been in Devon on business staying at a guest house when my car had a puncture. I had phoned the guest house and the landlady had said her next-door neighbour's son, Ellis, who I had seen and chatted to a couple of times would help me. I remember that at the time I had thought that he was a nice guy.
He had driven to where I was stuck on the edge of Dartmoor and had tried to help but the jack in my car was faulty so he had phoned his friend who owned a small repair garage. He said he couldn't come for an hour so Ellis and I had a drink in a pub. He had a couple of pints, I had two gin and tonics and I guess we flirted; I had thought he was both a bit of a player and quite a hunk but only twenty or so, the same age as my daughter and a few years younger than my son!
He drove us back to my car that I had pulled off the road into a small car park when I had the puncture. Just as we pulled up in the near almost darkness his mobile rang and it was his friend saying he would be another half an hour at least.
Like many women in their forties I had a bit of a thing about younger men and as I was living apart from my husband at the time it seemed to be the most natural thing in the world that when he came onto me I let him kiss me. It seemed just as natural that later that evening when his mum and Mrs Dawson went to bingo to let him into the B & B, come up the stairs and into my bedroom for the inevitable to happen, twice actually. It was just as inevitable the next afternoon when his mum and my landlady went shopping that we spent the afternoon in my room where we made love three times in just under three hours.
So, I had good memories of Devon, the B & B and Ellis but was surprised when he said.
"I've moved up to London and wondered whether I could buy you a drink or something, you said to give you a call."
"Did I?"
"Yes, just before I went and got mum and Mrs Dawson from shopping."
As I had lain in bed naked watching him dress I did vaguely remember saying something along those lines. But then they are the sort of things women say after sex with a near stranger who she is unlikely to see again.
My recall of the sex between us was very positive. Not only did he have the stamina and recovery powers of a young buck but also he was a great kisser, good at oral and generally, he was a considerate lover as concerned about my pleasure as he was his own.
I wasn't seeing anyone at the time so the idea of meeting him quite excited me. That said, like most women I didn't want him to think of me as being too easy so I had strung him along a bit asking where he was living and what he was doing in London. His answers all made sense and as he was not too pushy I agreed to meet him for a drink despite having some reservations.
Over the years, actually since I was in my thirties, I had been attracted to younger men and had been with three but had felt uncomfortable being seen out and about with them. Being honest with myself my reasons for agreeing to meet Ellis were purely sexual and, of course, revolved largely around his stamina and recovery powers which I recalled were impressive. More and more as I had got older the idea of having sex two, three or four times in a session took on a greater appeal. In fact, my number one fantasy was to be the woman in a six-guy gang bang, something that was most unlikely to happen but a nice fantasy when in bed alone and feeling horny!
So, the idea of having sex with Ellis was exciting but being seen in a pub or bar and having the stares of others who I assumed would be thinking 'older woman with her toy boy' was daunting. I considered saying to him come to my flat, but thought that might look rather too come on and, in any case it was some time since I had seen him and he may have changed so I stuck with the plan of meeting him in the bar he suggested in Covent Garden on a Friday evening.
*
It went well. He was as nice as I recalled from Devon, very attentive, not at all pushy and apart from being over twenty years my junior he was bloody good company. That said, though, I saw the looks people gave us and I noticed one girl nudging her man and whispering something about us. In part I guess that was due to the bar he had chosen as it was one that attracted a younger crowd and I could well have been the oldest in there, something I didn't at all savour!
"A mate got me an interview and I passed, as simple as that. I don't really want to work in a car dealership but it's just like a passport to get me up here," he had told me over our first drinks.
It turned out that he was working in Highgate booking cars in for service and living in a house with six others in Forest Gate in East London.
"How do you get to work then?"
"I cycle only takes forty minutes or so and keeps me fit...," he said pausing before adding. "Builds up my stamina Jayne," as he looked at me and smiled.
I didn't make any of the obvious remarks but I couldn't help smiling as I looked at him and we both got the message that he didn't really need to build that up.
We drank, not a great deal just a couple of white wines for me and two San Miguels for him.
I was wearing a blue, shortish, a few inches above the knee, fairly loose skirt and a white button up blouse, no tights as it was still warm and my legs were tanned from the nice weather recently and strappy four-inch heels. He was in a baggy, dark blue, heavy cotton shirt and beige chinos, no socks and loafers; he looked good. I had washed and styled my blonde, spiky hair before coming out and was wearing dark rimmed, oversized glasses as opposed to the rimless ones that I prefer as they are lighter but less fashionable; I'd been told that the heavier, larger glasses were sexier and a I'm a sucker for such compliments.
We left the bar at just after nine and walked along the crowded piazza.
"So, what do Londoners do to end the evening Jay?" he asked slipping his arm around my waist.
Resting my head affectionately on his broad chest I replied. "It varies so much Ellis, but probably quite similar to people in Devon."
As quick as a flash he came back with. "Shall I get a cab then, Docklands isn't?"
We laughed and quibbled joking over whether I would let him 'take me home' as he called it but of course I did.
