Denise was a 52-year-old nurse whom I had known for many years as a family friend.
It was somewhat by misfortune that we reconnected recently at a funeral of a family member but it happened to rekindle the many fantasies about Denise that I had previously enjoyed, having seen her visit us when I was a teenager in her white nurse's uniform.
I could not imagine anything other than full-bottomed white underpants underneath that uniform and I masturbated regularly and religiously to what I imagined what lay within.
Denise was a natural redhead and I dreamt of her triangle of ginger pubic hair getting so sweaty and smelly inside the soft cotton during her shift.
I imagined her slipping her cotton underpants down around her knees when she went to the toilet to either pee or poo or even change her tampon or pad.
It was difficult not to imagine her inspecting the inside of her knickers for discharge as she sat on the toilet to do her business.
I would frequently come as I envisaged Denise reaching across for the white toilet paper and tearing some off before applying it between her legs in a gentle wipe after her pee or else a more thorough wiping of her anus after defecating.
Imagining her changing pads or tampons would also bring me reliably to orgasm.
The constant thoughts of Denise's vagina, anus and pubic hair rubbing and sweating and smelling and staining inside those tender white cotton underpants all day long were irresistible when I was younger - the imaginings of what really went on between a mature woman's legs still fascinates me now but it was even more mysterious and exotic to me all those years ago.
So it was with some excitement that I was reacquainted with Denise only just recently.
I actually had to speak with her on the phone initially and when I eventually saw her at the funeral, I was thrilled to see that she had maintained her shapely features as I remember them from almost 30 years ago.
Denise attended a get together that was held after the funeral and it was there that we got talking much more readily.
The first thing I found out was that she was now divorced!
She had split with her husband over 8 years ago, she told me and was happily single at aged-52.
We of course talked about other things but most importantly, before parting ways, agreed to meet up for coffee some time.
Some weeks past and I found myself regularly masturbating over Denise - once again imagining the inside of her underpants and how her vagina and pubic hair must have matured over the years and how much more musky and feminine her odour must be now.
I imagined her constantly sitting on the toilet and taking care of her lady business with her big white knickers down around her knees and attending to herself with white toilet paper after peeing or defecating.
My orgasm was always timed to meet a number of scenarios - usually with me licking the inside of her stained underpants as she wiped herself clean after using the toilet or sometimes me licking her anus as she discreetly changed a pad or tampon in front of me.
Another scene I liked to imagine was one where I would lick the urine dry from around her vulva after she had just peed whilst slipping a finger gently up inside her rectum and sniffing the discharge from the inside of her knickers all at once.
Any slight thought of Denise's vaginal and anal odour would also rock me to an intense orgasm - simply imagining myself in a 69 with Denise - her big, white buttocks squatting and spread over my face with her stained white knickers pulled to the side of her hairy vulva, my tongue inserted deeply inside her tangy unwashed vagina and my nose pressed up against her smelly brown anus - would never fail me.
Either way, her big, white cotton underpants were at the epicentre of my fantasies about her.
Several weeks passed and to my surprise, Denise contacted me to make good on the offer to meet for coffee.
Not only did I accept, but of course I was extremely excited of what may eventuate.
Our date was set for the next week and in response, my masturbation sessions over Denise increased in intensity.
I spent a lot of time looking for photos over the internet of women with red hair and especially women with ginger pubic hair.
Women wearing white cotton underpants were also high on my priority list. Mature women, women wearing nurse's uniforms and shapely, Rubenesque women with healthy pubic hair coverings were also perfect fodder.
Eventually, the day of our meeting arrived and I was determined to "keep my cool" in the face of my overwhelming excitement.
Denise's body had matured so well - still very shapely but not having "blown out" excessively.
She arrived wearing a pretty summer dress and some nice flat shoes without any socks.
The dress was perfect I thought, as if things "warmed up" later on, access to her feminine goodness may prove to really direct.
I hoped so, anyway.
Our conversation over coffee was very civil and at times quite humorous as we covered a wide range of subjects.
Denise was still nursing after all this time but had been enjoying single life for the past 8 years after divorcing her husband.
She made it clear that she was not currently seeing anyone and expressed some disillusionment with the so-called "dating scene", which I wholeheartedly related to.
Of course, I also made it clear that I was a single man currently which I hoped would stand me in good stead with what may or may not be about to happen.
Denise excused herself to visit the bathroom during our date and I tried to control myself in her absence - my thoughts running wild of images her sitting on the toilet and doing her business, panties around the knees and wiping herself clean on completion.
Imagining those panties being pulled back up between her legs after her wipe and continuing to rub against her (what I hoped were) hairy private openings was almost too much to bear.
Returning to our table after a few minutes indicated that Denise had not done any more than pee.
Still, these were all extremely exciting images and I tried to keep my calm as she sat back down.
We continued our banter for a few minutes longer before we both decided it was time to go.
Living locally as she did, Denise had arrived at the café by foot whereas I had driven.
This was a perfect opportunity to offer Denise a lift home, which to my delight, she accepted.
It was literally only a few blocks to drive before we pulled up outside her apartment block and continued what may well have been delaying tactics before Denise broke the ice and invited me to come inside.
Now somewhat nervous but also incredibly excited, I too accepted and found myself within the confines of Denise's very comfortable and modern apartment in minutes.
She immediately slipped her shoes off once inside and offered me a drink - after running through a couple of options, I settled on a beer.
We placed ourselves on the couch next to one another and I sensed now Denise beginning to warm to something more.
I was naturally more than happy to play along hoping that it would go the way I had all but realised until now.
My nervousness was clearly surfacing as I polished off the first beer without even drawing breath.
Denise, I'm sure was aware of this and in courtesy offered me another almost immediately.