Matt & Heather

It was the sort of thing that begins with high hopes. It feels like a fantasy fuel adventure.

I'd signed up for a new service on my mobile phone, a dating service using the latest technology. It was exciting but as the months passed without any interest, my excitement faded into mute acceptance that I wasn't going to get lucky.

What was supposed to happen was this: You type your vital statistics into a web site, and list the characteristics of the person you want to meet. It was pretty comprehensive and definitely tailored towards the 'adult' end of the market, which of course was exactly what I wanted. It also required a photo.

Your details are entered into a database and matched with people who you're likely to be compatible with you. The clever bit came next, you tell it the details of your mobile phone and using the signal from it, it keeps track of you and any potential matches. When you get within a certain user specified distance of a match you get an alert message and the details and photo of that person, who, at the same time gets your details.

If both people tell their phones that they want to meet the other person then phone numbers get automatically swapped and you're free to get in contact. It's then up to both of you to decide whether or not to meet.

I signed up for the service 6 months ago, and up until last week I'd not received a single alert.

As I said, I started off with high hopes, I'd originally set the distance to 100 meters, confident of finding someone.

Three months ago, I'd pushed it up to two kilometers, the maximum distance allowed.

Even then, for three barren months my phone remained steadfastly silent, I considered changing my profile in order to attract more people but ultimately that was pointless, the whole idea was to meet a specific someone, not just the same old anybody's you can meet in any old bar.

Don't get me wrong, I've had sex in the last six months, some of it even good, but none of those women wanted the same as me, most I didn't even bother asking, they were vanilla when all I wanted was a little bit of rum n raisin.

One of them tried for me, she wanted to please me. Her name was Becky, a lovely girl halfway through university.

I still use images of her in my head when I masturbate. Her delicious peachy bottom raised in the air, as she waited expectantly and nervously for me to do my thing. She hadn't enjoyed it, and therefore neither had I. Well, at least tried she tried. I still have a soft spot for her, she has a new fella now, and I'm genuinely pleased for her.

And then a week ago, it happened.

I was in a pub with a couple of friends. It was the first time in ages I'd been out with them, they're older than me and have wives, girlfriends and children getting in the way of quality drinking time. They both have to consult their diaries and partners whenever they want to go out. A typical conversation would go like this:

"I can do Wednesday next week but that's it."

"Nah, sorry, Camilla's got her gym class on Wednesday nights, how about the week after?"

It doesn't help that I'm younger than them. They've done the partying, the drinking, the girls, whereas I feel like I'm just beginning. I wasted my late teens and early twenties and so now I want to catch up, but they're ready to put on their slippers.

I was on my second pint, settling into the comfortable seats of the cubicle. We were in a quiet corner of the pub, I was a little annoyed we couldn't sit somewhere with a view of the bar but I'd already accepted I wasn't on the pull that particular night.

My phone vibrated within my pocket, it felt like I'd received a text message. I ignored it for a few moments, not really caring. I doubted it would be anything interesting, in fact it was probably a spam text, and I'd been getting a lot of those recently.

During a lull in our typically mature conversation about the particular merits of older actresses that used to be and may or may not still be gorgeous (Goldie Hawn anyone?) I retrieved my phone from my trouser pocket, flipped it open and retrieved my message.

I felt a hot flush of excitement colour my cheeks, I tried to remain calm as neither of my friends knew about the phone-dating thing and I wanted to keep it that way. Beneath the table my cock began to swell. Could this be it?

"Anything exciting?" asked Toby, he's a colleague from work, I've known him for eight years and to my surprise, I was best man at his wedding, mainly due to him having no one else to choose from.

"Nah, fucking Modaphone telling me about their latest offer, you'd think they'd be happy that I'm a customer already, but no they want to squeeze every single fucking penny they can from me."

It was an easy lie to tell, my hatred of the phone company was well known.

I returned the phone to my pocket and waited, willing my cock to relax, as I couldn't stand up as I was. It took a while, images of Becky's buttocks swimming unwanted in my mind.

Eventually, my excitement subsided, well at least the physical signs did, inside I was wound up tight with nervous tension.

I made my excuses.

"Sorry lads I think that curry's getting to me," I said and disappeared to the toilets, locking myself inside a cubicle.

I flipped open the phone and read the message again.

MOBILE DATE MATCH FOUND WITHIN 2K RADIUS. VIEW DETAILS YES/NO

Excitedly I pressed

YES

and her details came up on screen, together with a typically unclear phone picture. I could see she was a red head, slim and pale skinned. She wore a light blue slightly cropped top and it looked like she had a lovely smile.

"She'll do." I murmured to myself, my erection returning. She would definitely do.

Her name was Heather, she was 24. She'd not listed many mundane details about her star sign, job, hobbies etc. It seemed to me that like me, she'd concentrated on the interesting stuff.

I scrolled down through the list of options, reading her answers, she seemed like a perfect match, she was open, answering even the most personal questions, and her answers excited me.

It seemed that she was like me, eager to try new things but with little actual experience, she was curious and keen.

After scrolling down the bottom of the page I found another option.

DO YOU WISH TO SEND AND RECEIVE CONTACT DETAILS? YES/NO?

I suddenly realised that she would be facing the same question, doubt entered me like a virus, multiplying with horrifying speed.

Of course she wouldn't want to meet me, in fact she was probably showing my picture around to her friends right now and laughing at me. What if one of them knew me already, my shame would be total.

Nevertheless, I of course, pressed

YES

. Another prompt immediately came up on the screen.

DO YOU WISH TO SEND FLIRT MESSAGE WITH CONTACT DETAILS? YES/NO?

Again I pressed

YES

and then regretted it, I had to think of something quick, and the success of this whole thing could depend on it. Talk about pressure.

I wracked my brains and then came up with something, it wasn't great and given time I would hope I could come up with something better but quick thinking has never been my forte.

HI HEATHER, WHAT A NICE SURPRISE TO SEE YOU POP UP ON MY PHONE, HOPE WE CAN MEET SOON, MATT.

I pressed send and waited. Five minutes later, no reply had come and I really needed to get back to my friends.

I got very drunk that night, needing the alcohol to hide my nerves and increasing depression from my two friends. I don't remember the walk back home, I know I purchased a kebab from a van on the way as I found its half-eaten corpse lying in my kitchen the next morning. I also remember lying awake at two am and hearing my mobile bleeping as a message was received. I reached blindly over, fumbling in the dark and retrieved it.

CONTACT DETAILS RECEIVED FROM HEATHER.

Below that, wonderfully was her number and below her number was her message to me, it made me smile.

HELLO MATT, GOD I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO SAY OTHER THAN LET'S MEET UP SOMETIME, GIVE ME A CALL, HEATHER XXX

I was too drunk to even contemplate phoning but I found myself with a massive erection and couldn't help but manually ease the tension there as I thought of a red haired girl, writhing on the end of my cock, begging me to do her harder, harder, harder.

A week later, I was getting ready to meet Heather, we'd arranged to meet in a pub in town and then watch a film. It all seemed so innocent considering the context of why we were meeting. It almost felt like we should've started straightaway with the your place or mine question but of course, half the fun, is in the chase, the unknown, the seduction.

Besides, just because we were meeting because of our sexual interests didn't mean we were going to hit it off, we might've hated each other in the flesh.

Having spoken on the phone however I doubted we would, she seemed nice, softly spoken almost shy. Just hearing her voice gave me a hard on. We didn't discuss anything remotely sexual but the conversation was charged with it regardless, it couldn't fail to be. We knew why we were talking.

I got dressed in my favourite jeans and shirt combo. The jeans were faded, old looking but stylish and my shirt was short sleeved and white, made from linen. I always felt confident with this combination, I felt good and for me at least that's always half the battle.

It was 7:45 when I walked into the bar, Heather was due to meet me at 8:00.

The place was relatively quiet, I'd not been in there much as it had only fairly recently opened. It was all modern, shiny chrome and zinc bar tops and orange, almost terracotta painted walls with bright splashes of blue. At that time of night it tended to play funky, chilled out music, a Zero 7 track was playing.

The staff all wore identical tight black T-shirts and seemed to have been chosen for their looks rather than intellect, still that's not a bad selection criteria I thought as I ordered my drink from a very attractive, blond haired barmaid.

I settled in at the bar and surveyed the scene, checking to make sure she wasn't already here.

Looking around it seemed to be mostly the after work crowd in, there was an abundance of suits from the nearby office blocks, having a social one or two before heading home.

I looked at my watch again, time was going slowly, unlike my drink. I always drink quickly when I'm nervous and I certainly was then. I told myself to chill out a bit, it was just a normal date, except, of course it wasn't. Heather already knew things about me that I'd not even told some long-term girlfriends and she'd got all the info from simple multiple-choice questions.

Heather walked into the bar and my heart raced. I saw her before she saw me. She looked around the bar nervously, trying to find me amongst the small crowd.

I resisted, just, the temptation to get her attention by waving. So instead, I just watched her scan the faces, seeking me out. Her eyes eventually found mine and a timid smile formed on her lips. She avoided further eye contact as she approached, seemingly even more nervous than me.

First impressions as she came closer were good, she was prettier than her poor quality phone picture showed, girl-next-door rather type rather than supermodel type. She is however, all the lovelier for that.

She wore oval, thin framed glasses, which was a surprise but not a bad one. Some women really look sexy in glasses and Heather was no exception. Her red hair flowed down to her shoulders in lazy curls. She was quite short and slim, wearing a pair of beige drawstring trousers and a simple white blouse that revealed just a little of her small cleavage.

I couldn't help but smile inside, she really was lovely.

"Hi," she held out her hand and smiled. "You must be Matt."

I shook her hand, returning her smile.

"Yes, and I'm hoping you're Heather right?"

"That's me."

There was the merest hint of an awkward pause, we both stood their waiting and for that split second, it all felt like it was going to go horribly wrong. And then, sense prevailed and I asked her if she'd like a drink.

"Yes please, gin and tonic would be good."

I ordered two drinks while she stood next to me.

"Thank you, you'll have to excuse me," she said as I handed her drink, "I've not done anything like this before so I'm a little nervous."

"You don't look it," I lied, I'd wanted to add

You look lovely

, but it seemed too soon. I've never been good at giving or receiving compliments.

We carried on with small talk, from stuttering beginnings it began to flow pretty easily, all the usual boring subjects, of course.

I discovered she had been a librarian for three years but that she was bored with it and wanted a change. The only thing is, she didn't know what else she wanted to do.

"How about a nurse?" I suggested.

"No thanks," she replied. "You end up clearing up old men's piss and sick all day." I laughed.

"True but at least you get a sexy uniform."

"So, now I see your real motive. You just wanted to get me in uniform."

"Now there's a pleasant thought..." I pretended to daydream, tilting my head up to the ceiling, lost in my thoughts.

"Hey!" she cuffed me playfully on the shoulder. I was really starting to warm to her.

A drink or so later we got onto the subject of ex-partners. I told her I'd been single for a while, she told me about her last boyfriend, nice guy apparently. She'd been with him for two years but in the end, she just got bored with him, especially when he started dropping hints about marriage.

That was only a couple of months before we met and she'd not seen anyone in the meantime. It seemed she'd been plucking up the courage to join the phone dating service even before the split.

"So what sports you into?" she asked, leaning closer across the small table we had moved to, her cleavage tempting my eyes downwards but I was a good boy honest, well almost, I did sneak a little peak. The sight of a line of lacy bra cupping the pale swelling of her breast was my welcome reward.

"I don't really play much, I like to watch Formula One, can't stand footy."

"You ever done any extreme sports?"

"Yeah, I've done a bungee jump."

Her eyes lit up.

"Cool, did you enjoy it?"

"It was wicked, how about you, have you done one then?"

"Yeah, I've done a few, I love them, it's that moment just after you jump, when you're hanging in mid air waiting for gravity to take hold and your mind just goes blank and time just stretches out. It's fucking wicked."

I could see by the way her eyes were shining that this was a particular passion for her, it seemed this librarian was secretly an adrenaline junky.

"Have you done any other extreme things?"

She smiled.

"Yeah, a few things, I'll try anything once, as long as it gives me that rush you know, that buzz."

She seemed to get lost in her own thoughts for a second. I looked at my watch, we were nearly late for the film.

"We'd better get going." I said. "We don't want to be late."

"Good point," she said, rising from the table with me. "And I've got to get my popcorn."

The cinema was almost empty, with no more than about ten people in to watch the film. It was a summer blockbuster but it was nearing the end of its run, in a couple of days this screen would be showing something else and the crowds would be back.

When the lights went down, it was easy to imagine we were completely alone in the dark. Sitting side by side in silence, I was utterly aware of her presence beside me on my right. The film began but it was hard to concentrate. Her elbow was on the armrest between us, her left leg almost touching my right.

I thought of previous dates in cinemas, they were split 50/50 between the ones that ended up with excited fumbling in the dark and the ones spent in stony silence. If and when, to make a move have always been the questions, I knew my answer to the first. I was definitely going to try, the only question was when, and of course, how!

All my questions and prayers were answered however when Heather lifted up the arm rest between us and shifted across. I lifted up my arm and put it over her shoulder as she snuggled into my side, her cheek resting on my shoulder, a hand light on my thigh.

We stayed like that for a few minutes, it was nice. I was acutely aware of my cock beginning to grow inside my trousers, her hand resting not far from where it was pushing between my jeans and my leg.

I looked down at her, the film reflected in her glasses and behind them her eyes sparkled in the dark. She looked up and without realising it, we slid forwards into a kiss in the magical way that only first kisses seem to posses.

Softly we teased each other with our mouths, taking it very slowly, lips brushing, a flick of a tongue then a retreat. It was always swiftly followed by another advance, one step back, two steps forward.

Her lips were wonderfully soft, the softest I'd ever experienced. I put my hand high on her thigh, giving her a gentle squeeze. Things moved quickly from there.

Heather's hand found the increased swelling of my cock, and sliding her fingers firmly over the denim-clad shaft, she explored its length. Closing her legs around my hand, she pulled away from me a little, her eyes shining wide with excitement and then brought her lips to my ear.

"I don't want to fuck you, not tonight, but..." She pushed her tongue inside my ear, swirling it briefly around and giving my cock a firmer squeeze.

Her legs opened wider again and I took this as a clear hint, bringing my hand up to the apex of her thighs.

"Finger me." She whispered, as if I might have any other plans.

I pulled her head around, bring her mouth to mine, kissing her fiercely but briefly.

"Only if you suck my cock afterwards."

Her tongue pushed deep inside my mouth, I tried to bite it but she withdrew it in an instant.

"Only if you're good."

I kissed her deeply again, beginning to move my hand rhythmically up and down against her pussy.

"Pull your trousers down," I hissed.

She fumbled with the drawstring of her beige cotton trousers and then, arching her back, lifted her arse off the seat as she slipped her fingers under the waist and pushed her trousers and her white cotton knickers down to just below her knees in one motion.

"Take them off, completely off."

I watched her as she bent forward, soon there was a pair of simple white sandals, her knickers and her trousers on the floor amongst the discarded and sticky popcorn kernels.

She sat back in her seat and we kissed again, my hand resting on her now bare thigh, her skin bright white in the gloom of the cinema.

As we kissed I eased her legs up, encouraging her around until she sat or rather lay sideways across the seat, her legs over mine and resting her back on the next armrest.

I broke off the kiss as it was too awkward at the point to continue. It meant that I could look at her properly as I slid my hand up her thigh, towards the neat gash of dark pink flesh between her legs.

She was furry there, trimmed neatly but unshaven. Although my preference is for short or shaved pubes, It was a pleasant change and since the first time I'd seen her picture I'd been looking forward to seeing their colour, the thought of red pubes turning me on a great deal.

Unfortunately it was hard to see their exact colour, but they looked very dark next to her pale skin.

I trailed my fingers up over the length of her pussy, ending up in the triangular tangle of crinkly pubes. I enjoyed letting my fingers play there for a while, twisting them into rough strands, tugging at them, combing them with my fingers. I brought my other hand into play as well, trailing it up her leg.

I looked at her as she watched me, luxuriating in my attention. I noticed how small her waist was, how it flared delightfully into her hips, I wondered what lay under her blouse.