Paul was a run of the mill guy. Not a weirdo, not a perv. He liked social media and enjoyed following people who are relatively well known but who he could occasionally interact with. He was never a troll.
Clare was a TV journalist, locally based. He'd followed her on Twitter for a while, enjoying the mix of her professional and personal content. He liked that she seemed honest and grounded, and not self-promoting. Her being ginger was definitely an attraction for him but he kept that to himself.
The first time he saw her 'for real' was a complete fluke, she was drinking tea at Altrincham Market. He'd only recently exchanged tweets with her in relation to a news story and thought about saying 'hello' and starting a conversation, but then he thought that would seem weird so didn't.
The next time he saw her was at a gig, small venue, cool band. He tweeted her afterwards about the gig and recommended another band he was going to see. Her reply revealed that she was also going to see them. He had said 'See you there!' and she'd replied in a friendly way and that had been that.
She'd been with 2 female pals at the first gig and one of them was with her at the second. He tweeted her before the band came on, saying 'Enjoy the gig, I'm looking forward to it! I won't come over to say hello because that would be weird' with a smiley face.
Her reply was pretty quick 'Come say hi, if you're at all weird I warn you that I'm a karate expert.', again with a smiley face.
He went over, said 'hello', they chatted about the band and music for 5 mins then,at what he thought was the first sign of awkwardness, he said 'goodbye!' and went back to his mates.
After the show she tweeted him first, asking his opinion. 2 or 3 tweets later others joined in the conversation and it came to a close.
He and his mates went out after the gig and by 12am he was mildly tipsy but not drunk. He noticed her tweet that she was in a taxi on the way home, commenting on how her planned gig then early night had failed. He was on the tram and direct messaged her:
'Lovely to meet you earlier. You'll probably block me for this but I'll tell you anyway...I appreciate your journalistic talent and style, and meeting you was a nice coincidence, and I've anyways fancied you (Sexy ginger that you are!) but having met you I think you are fit as fuck.
Yours from the tram!
Px'.
Her reply was pretty quick. 'Lol. No blocking don't worry! Thanks for the compliments, sadly there's no Prince Charming who shares your views!'.
Was there a hint of a flirt in this? He wasn't sure and thought he was drunk. He replied quickly. 'You must be awash with offers lol. Nothing wrong with waiting for Mr Right!'.
Her reply was definitely flirty: 'Have you seen the cost of batteries?'.
He replied; 'Fuck. The image that's just put in my head!'.
Her's: 'Tell me'.
His: 'Thought of you toying yourself'.
'What about it?', she replied.
'Makes me hard!' He couldn't believe this was happening and that he was saying this to her.
'I'll be doing just that in about 15 mins. Interested?' was her next reply.
He responded quickly: 'Let me think about that for a millisecond....yes!'.
Her response was equally as quick: 'Tell me... when you said the image I'd put in your head... describe it'.
'You're on you back, naked, your toy is a small clit massager and you're well into it.' He messaged, still unbelieving of the way the conversation had developed.
'Very perceptive. More detail' she responded.
'Brazilian' he ventured.
Her reply took his breath away: 'Nope. I'm a proud ginger. Trimmed but ginge.'.
'What's your postcode?' He dared to ask.
'Why?' Was her simple reply.
'You know why' he typed. Wondering if he'd misread the vibe
'Detail please' she asked
'I want to see, feel and taste you' he typed with a shaking hand.
She replied with her postcode and house number. He thought he must be dreaming.
