Even the creases in Joanne's jeans were sensual.
Other women would just glance, in that quick all-enveloping approving/disapproving way that women have, but I sat staring. Joanne had a slow, confident walk and the creases and crevices of her jeans moved in a slow, confident "I don't give a fuck" way.
The denim fitted her arse like it was painted on and her arse was stunning. Little creases played out from the seam that divided her cheeks and they rippled as she walked, turned and even stood still. Joanne was never really still and, as she leant against the doorframe of the pub talking into her mobile, her bum still jiggled in a nervy kind of way. As she chatted her free hand moved about constantly either unconsciously pulling up her low-slung jeans or smoothing the material over her arse.
How I wished it was my hand. My fingers gripping the warm thin denim and sliding between her cheeks, then pulling them apart and probing deep into the crack.
But then Joanne spun round and showed me her crotch.
I always thought she had a bulge like a boy down there. Her plump mound protruded most noticeably from below her waistband and was clearly defined by the sexy creases. The tightness of her jeans emphasised the notch that hinted at her cunt. She started pacing again, as people do when they talk on the phone, and she passed inches from my face. The creases grabbed at her crotch giving me teasing glimpses of how she'd look naked but then she was back at the bar and I was again transfixed by her backside.
Yes, I was obsessed with Joanne. I've had two long-term partners, a few brief flings and several one-night fucks but none of them affected me like her, they had been fun, they had been infuriating but they weren't Joanne. I was 34 going on 14, dreaming of the 'head girl' and infatuated to the point of going mad.
Now, she was gossiping with Joe, the girl behind the bar.
Her hand brushed her hair as she laughed at Joe's stories. What was so funny? I was jealous at their easy intimacy. She must fancy Joe - yes that was it. She wanted to fuck the bitch and everyone knew that Joe was an easy lay.
Joanne's phone rang thank god!. She stooped to get it out of her bag and her waistband slipped down. I could see her tanned back but mostly I glimpsed the top of her white knickers. I imagined them on her, pure white cotton against her tanned arse, completely pure I'm sure - I couldn't imagine skidmarks on Joanne's pants.
It was a text message, she read it, smiled, and put the phone back. Who was it from I thought? She had so many friends so was it a new lover? Now Joanne was leaning over the bar totally involved in some story she was telling Joe. Her back was bent and her arse was thrust out as if she was inviting everyone in the pub to fuck her. She was jiggling again as she laughed at her own jokes, her bum teasingly dancing. The creases whipped my imagination. I could see the white knickers trapped in her crack, her arse cheeks grinding, the pure cotton moistening...now I was moist too...the cat was licking her lips and...
"Hi"
I was lost for a moment and them I looked up. A woman looked down at me, she was familiar but I couldn't place her.
"Long time no see" She gave me a questioning look.
Brown hair, tan, sporty figure, round glasses...yes I knew her name I really did.
"Ah yes...hi, hey please sit down"
I pulled out a chair. Yes it was an R... Rosie, Robin, Ruth...Rachel!
I recovered. "Rachel, it's great to see you again"
She smiled. Was it a knowing smile? I was sure it was. She leant forward and spoke:
"You seemed a little pre-occupied"
Her head turned slightly towards where Joanne stood. Or at least I thought it did.
I blushed, I really did. I tried to laugh it off.
"Oh fuck, sorry, I was in another world, fucking work you know"
She giggled back and nodded then she suddenly stood up and indicated my empty glass
"Fancy a top up?"
"Sure, thanks"
She walked over to the bar. In any other circumstances I'd have given her the once-over: face, arse, tits, clothes, you know the form – but now she was next to Joanne and...they were talking. Joanne obviously knew her, they laughed, they talked more, they flashed a look at me but then Joe served the pints and Rachel was walking back.
"You know Joanne?" I enquired trying to make it seem matter of fact.
"Bottoms up" she replied.
For a second I panicked, thinking it was a pointed joke but then I realised she was just raising her glass toasting me.
"Cheers" I replied
She sipped her pint then spoke: "Christ, doesn't everyone know Joanne?"
She raised her eyebrows then smiled. Her voice took on a jokey tone.
"Sorry, saucer of milk, table for one"
She got serious, "Sorry, is she a friend of yours"
I blushed again, Christ! I must look a complete twat. I tried the cool tone.
"No, not at all, I've seen her around at parties...chatted once or twice"
She turned and this time she did look at Joanne. Now the arse was resting on a bar stool and the back was arched as the obviously intense conversation rambled on. The knickers were very much on show now. Rachel kept looking.
Then she turned back. I remembered everything now. Rachel was part of a group that I was friendly with a year or so ago. We'd been to drinks and parties together and one night we had a good snog. We'd agreed to meet up again but you know how it is?
Now Rachel looked a little pre-occupied but she quickly snapped out of it.
"Well, what have you been getting up too since Steph's do? "
We talked about life as we finished our pints.
The next round had us exchanging work stuff, holidays, the usual things.
Another pint and we were on to relationships. The talk was good, fun, we were getting on famously – but the arse was like a magnet.
During all this time Joanna had finished her marathon gossip, made a few more calls, visited the loo and jigged to the music. It was getting a bit too much for me, I was getting that sensational yearning feeling in my cunt.
I loved that feeling but the disappointment when it was all for nothing was all the more painful. If it hadn't been for Rachel I'd have left, gone home and wanked the feeling away.
So, thank you Rachel you're very nice – but you're not Joanna.
Rachel was looking at me. She was listening but her eyes were following mine. Occasionally she'd glance away as Joanne passed by but then she'd be back locked on even more intently.
A raising of voices broke into our warm little world. Two men and two women were greeting Joanna. She was ecstatic and air-kissing everyone. She'd obviously been waiting for them as they left immediately. They reached the door and as they paused, one of the women put her arm round Joanna's waist. Her hand slipped down and stroked a bum cheek.
And then Joanna was gone.
Rachel looked at me and smiled, her lips wet and shiny.
She raised her almost empty glass.
"Fuck Joanna" she said.
"Fuck Joanna" I replied. We tapped glasses and got up.
Outside the pub we stopped, both not sure what to say. Rachel broke the silence with the oldest line in the book.
"Fancy a coffee?" she said. I should have laughed but I knew what I wanted and I wanted it now.
"Sure, great idea after all that beer" I said knowing what came next.
"My flat's just around the corner" replied Rachel and off we strolled.
I felt great. I knew I was going to be in for something hot and wet and it wasn't going to be Maxwell House.
* * * * *
Rachel's flat was on the first floor and as she climbed the stairs in front of me I, at last, focused totally on her. She was a big girl, taller than me, big tits, and with muscled arms that hinted at sports or at least a regular visit to the gym.
She was in a well washed T-shirt and combat pants. At my level on the stairs I was in line with her arse. Nothing like Joannas' as it was on the biggish side but quite sexy when you're slightly pissed on a Saturday afternoon. The outline of Rachel's thong was clear through the thin cotton - that top bit before it disappears into the crack.
It formed a V shape like a directional arrow that was pointing down to where the naughty girls go.
I love these moments. That brief time before you stop being just friends and when you discover and explore each other. I was going to unwrap Rachel and get to know her dark places. I was going to uncork her essence for the first time. Her feel, her touch, her smell, her imperfections and, most important of all, I was going to reveal her most intimate needs. Later on you get to know each other's bodies and the sex is so much better but these are the moments I always remember.