Dear lord, how long has it been?
This is all I could think as I got ready for the first date I had had in almost 15 years.
Let me explain. I'm getting divorced. He fell in love with my best friend. He wanted sister wives. I said no thanks. So, divorce.
Now, here I am, at 44, going on the first date I've had since my 20's. I'm 5'7" full figured with shapely, but unused, 42 H's. I say unused because I almost can't remember the last time I had sex, or anything even close to sex. As a sexual being, that's been a hard road to slog.
I have finally decided that it's time to find myself again 100%. So, I got on a couple of sites to try to find someone to at least talk to for an hour and, maybe, get a free glass of wine. I'm not aiming high yet.
I was, now, finally, going on my first date in years. His name is Charlie and he's a teacher. From what I know so far, he teaches high school and is originally from Scotland. He came to the states for a woman, married her, had a couple of kids, and she left him for her boss, a low-level state rep with the "right address" and income level.
I dressed deliberately- Black slacks that hugged my curves and ended just at my ankles, black flats (I'm not a heels girl), and a royal blue top that had a deep V-neck to show off my assets just the right amount. My chin length auburn hair was tousled and free. My makeup was simple - mascara and tinted gloss. I'm not a fussy female.
I wasn't sure what I was expecting but I knew I needed a night out and was hoping for some decent conversation, if nothing else. If we hit it off, maybe more. It had been a long time, so I was nervous.
I arrived at the agreed meeting place right at 7 pm. I'm annoyingly on time. I looked for Charlie but did not see anyone who looked like the very scholarly picture I had seen. I waited and five minutes passed, then ten.
Well shit! Did I just get stood up?
Right as I was preparing to leave, he breezed through the door looking frazzled and windblown, his wavy golden-brown hair tousled. His eyes met mine and a sheepish smile formed on his lips.
"Hi!" He said with enthusiasm.
"Charlie?" I asked cautiously.
"Yes!" He answered. "I'm so sorry I'm late," he began, "I had a hell of a time trying to find parking!"
"Not a problem." I responded cautiously.
At this point, realizing that my party was all here, the host sat us at a table in the corner.
I took a moment to look him over as we took our seats.
He was tall, about 6'4", cute but not handsome with blue eyes and that boyish, tousled hair. A very slight 5 o'clock shadow showed on his jaw. He was wearing medium wash blue jeans, a nice button up shirt, and a VERY teacher- like jacket with the elbow patches.
"What have I gotten myself into?" I wondered.
Then, he smiled, and most of my worries stopped in their tracks, dazzled by that smile that lit up the room.
"So, what brings you to a dating site?" he asked, his accent slightly undoing me.
"Oh lord, are you sure you want to start with that?" I answered, chuckling.
"Why not?" He answered, smiling encouragingly.
I then told him my sob story of woe, which just felt kind of pathetic. He murmured and nodded in all the right places, showing that he understood the amount of awful I had gone through.
Then he shared his story. He had been married to a woman he met while she was studying in Edinburgh. They had moved to the states to be near her family and then all had fallen apart. She had custody of the kids because of her new marriage and the opportunity to send them to "the right" private school. He saw them every other weekend. He loved his kids. That was plain to see.
We ordered meals and drinks and split an appetizer of a black bean dip with chips and veggies.
As we talked, I realized that he was funny and smart and entertaining. I was really enjoying myself. This was unexpected!
As I drank, I realized that my shields were falling and I was focusing on his lips as he talked with that sexy accent, his hands as they gestured, his smile as he talked about things that made him happy. I watched his broad shoulders move under his jacket and I started imagining my hands gripping those shoulders. When, at one point, he stretched out his long legs while telling a story, I imagined what they would feel like under my hands. I guess my sexual appetite was awake again! Before I knew it, I wanted him so badly I could barely sit still. My hands twisted together in my lap, itching to either touch him or to touch myself. I felt my throat go dry and kept drinking anything that was placed in front of me. I noticed him watching me as I talked as well. He was charming and curious, and we never ran out of things to talk about.
By the time we finished our entrees, I was wet and throbbing. I excused myself to the ladies' room and was grateful that it was a single restroom. I locked the door and leaned back against it, my hand moving into the waistband of my pants, stroking my pussy through my panties, feeling the wetness. I felt my cheeks flush with desire and realized that I needed to stop as I was taking up the only ladies' room. With great reluctance, I withdrew my hand and licked my fingers, tasting my arousal, which only worked me up more.
"I am SO going to have a good masturbation session tonight!" I thought, conscious of how swollen my clit was.
I flushed the toilet and ran the sink for form and went back to the table.