I'd been working in the pub since I was just seventeen, collecting glasses at first. I was now eighteen and at Uni, but had taken a job there again for the summer.
I had got to know some of the customers quite well, by name and of course what they drank. One in particular had caught my eye. John was maybe thirty something, tall and a bit distinguished but with a ready smile and very self confident. We would often chat briefly if I wasn't busy, and he would catch my shoulder, discretely, as I walked past him. This never failed to produce a little tingle of excitement. Then one lunchtime when I was going on break we had a little more of a chat.
"When's your day off?"
"Tomorrow"
"Fancy lunch?"
"Sounds good to me"
"I'll pick you up at eleven"
"Cool"
And that was it. I was going to have lunch with John. A man at least ten years my senior, about whom I knew virtually nothing. What on earth would we be able to talk about? Would he find me boring? All a bit scary.
Next morning I was even more apprehensive. I spent a good hour deciding what to wear, eventually settling for something discrete, hopefully a little sophisticated. A plain white blouse, open just enough to show a little cleavage, and a knee length red skirt. I left my hair loose, the blonde tresses hanging over my shoulders, and just enough makeup to highlight my features. Just before eleven I made my way downstairs and out into the street.
Blinking in the bright morning sun, I spotted John standing on the pavement just a few yards away. He waved as I walked toward him, smiling. He was standing beside a beautiful, silver coloured, open car. An Aston Martin. As I approached he spread his arms in welcome, then kissed me on my cheek.
"I'm so pleased you made it, and on time!"
"I've been looking forward to it"
He opened the door for me to get in, closing it as the leather seat wrapped around me. The engine started with a distinct roar, and we were off.
"I know just the place, only a few miles away. Hold on tight."
He was grinning, obviously enjoying himself.
Soon we were well into the countryside, John sweeping the car enthusiastically through the curves and bends. Not only did he own a very fast car, he knew how to drive it. We pulled up a long drive to the door of what was clearly a very exclusive club. John passed the keys to the doorman, to be parked with small group of Bentleys and Porches.
"Your table is ready Sir"
We were ushered to a small table, the silver cutlery glistening in the sun. We had a beautiful view, looking out over manicured lawns interspersed with woodland to a lake in the middle distance. To say I was impressed would something of an understatement.
The meal was delicious, a seafood platter - salmon pate, fresh lobster, oysters - which we shared, together with a fresh and delicate white wine. There's something very intimate about sharing a meal. Conversation was easy, which surprised me, initially about each other. It seems he had been married but it hadn't worked out so now he was single and enjoying every moment. I told him about my gymnastic training, and my later swimming achievements.
Gradually we moved onto more personal matters. He asked me if I was in a relationship and I explained that through my school days although some of the boys were attractive they were exactly that. Boys. Even at Uni the first year students were immature, and by the second and third years they were either in steady relationships or more interested in beer and football than intelligent conversation. Either way they did not attract me.
By now, however, John was attracting me and it wasn't just his fluent conversation and occasional banter. So when he reached across the table to gently squeeze my hand I responded positively. John was caressing my arm, his fingertips just touching me. He lifted my wrist and, looking me straight in the eye, kissed my wrist.
"Let's go somewhere a little less public" he said, signalling the Maitre d' for the bill. By the time we got to the door the car was waiting for us, engine running.
John's driving was less exuberant now, and frequently he rested his hand on my knee. I looked at him and smiled, and was rewarded with a warm smile from him. After a few miles we pulled up alongside a lovely pub overlooking the sea. As we parked two of the staff greeted him and he waved back.
"Your local?"
"Actually, I own it." he replied, grinning.
We walked up a short flight of steps and through a tall gate onto a large balcony. As the gate closed John took me in his arms and we kissed. Tentatively at first, then warmer and more passionate. I could get to enjoy this afternoon.
"Wait here Nicki, I'll not be long." He unlocked the large patio doors and disappeared into the house.
I leant on the rail and took in the scene. The house looked over the roofs of a couple of other properties and out to sea. I could see a few yachts sailing past, and in the distance a ship. Set in woodland the house enjoyed total privacy, not overlooked from any direction. Even out on the balcony you could do whatever you felt like without fear of onlookers.
John came back. He had changed: gone were the smart, if casual, trousers and open shirt, now he was wearing a silk robe tied at the waist. He looked gorgeous with his well sculpted calves, square shoulders, just a hint of hair on his chest. He was carrying two glasses of red wine, one of which he passed to me.
"Cheers Nicki. Here's to our afternoon together."
We clinked glasses and drank our toast. I was still leaning on the rail, looking out to sea. John moved behind me, now holding me close.
"It's a lovely spot" said, quietly. "I sometimes have breakfast here, watching the sunrise."
His warm, calm, deep voice was as intoxicating as the wine. I let my head fall back onto his shoulder as he gently kissed my neck.
"I want you Nicki"
"And I want you"
