The hot and muggy summer day became a warm and muggy summer evening. Leaves on the elm tree hedge cupped upwards in anticipation of rain. Birds searching for a bedtime snack hopped slowly across the yard. Doors shut against the heat of the day opened to allow the slightly lower evening temperature to cool the houses. Even if the stars could have shone through the cloud cover, it was too early to see them. Full dark, during the summer, doesn't happen until after 10 pm. It was only a few ticks past 8 pm.
She was naked, still damp from the shower, and in a tizzy. She lay down on the bed, spread her legs, and began smooth shaving her pussy. The drone of the razor was an aggravating noise.
"What should I wear?" she asked as she put away the razor.
"Something sexy and revealing," I told her. "Something that is easy to take off."
She began pulling outfits from the armoire and closet. I didn't consider any of them suitable for the outing. Some were too long. Others were too short. Some seemed too complicated and some of them I simply didn't like.
She tried on a summer dress that buttoned from the bottom to the top. It had a slightly V'd neckline, but one that was not plunging. The hem struck her just above mid calf. I told her to unbutton the first two buttons. It revealed the swell of her succulent breasts, but didn't expose them. I asked her to undo the bottom three buttons. After having her walk, and then sit, I decided a fourth button needed to be undone.
It worked, and it worked well. It was sexy. It was hot. It was demure. She stepped into a pair of high-heeled sandals. Her calf muscles rippled as she swayed back and forth across the room. I whistled my appreciation.
"How should I wear my hair," she asked, "down or up?"
"Put it in a pony tail," I told her.
I went outside, opened the sliding doors on either side of the van and removed two of the back seats. After setting them on the porch, I went back to the van to see if I could slide the rear bench seat a notch or two further to the rear. It doesn't adjust. As I was closing the van doors, she tossed two thick, soft blankets on the floor.
"The floor is hard," she grinned.
It was almost 9 pm. I pulled on my socks and boots, slapped my left hip pocket to make sure I had my billfold, grabbed an extra pack of cigarettes and said, " Let's hit it, baby." We climbed into the van, buckled up and backed out of the drive. We weren't supposed to be there until 10 pm. Although it was a 40-minute drive, I am wont to build in a little emergency time.
We tried to make small talk. After a few miles, we lapsed into a comfortable silence; each of us lost in the maze of our own thoughts. She looked good. In fact, she looked great. The necklace and earrings she had selected went well with her outfit. She had used just a touch of lipstick to accent her sensuous lips.
A few weeks previously, we had placed an ad on one of the Internet adult meeting sites. The response had been almost overwhelming. They had also been almost overwhelmingly ignorant and ill advised. There is no shortage of men that think the sight of a hard cock sends a woman into a fit of passion. That never ceases to amaze me.
Regardless of how carefully we had worded our ad, most of the respondents did not display even an ounce of intelligence. They seemed to be operating on the emotional level of a desperate, hormonally-charged, clueless and deprived, 14 year old boys. Fortunately, "almost all," doesn't mean "all."
Jim's letter gave the impression of someone who spoke English as a second language; thus, wasn't at ease writing in English. He had said the right things and included a clothed picture. After we had exchanged a few letters, he offered his phone number and we called. He had a pleasant, French-accented speaking voice. He seemed to be relaxed, at ease, and a gentleman. We agreed to meet at a restaurant to see what happened.
The last vestiges of twilight faded into dark as we pulled into the shopping center. I backed the van into a parking space about 50 yards from the restaurant. There was only one other vehicle parked nearby; probably an employee's car. Jim recognized us when we got out of the van. He walked over to meet us. He was about 5'10" tall. His hair was black with flecks of gray. He was slender and looked fit. We shook hands and exchanged in the pleasantries strangers exchange as we walked.
The hostess asked if we wanted a booth or table. At that hour, there were few diners. I indicated a booth in the corner that offered a modicum of privacy. Jim, sitting across the table from us, ordered a beer, I asked for coffee, and she chose ice tea.
I could tell from looking at his eyes that he found her attractive and very desirable, but there was no outward display of that desire. It would be easy to think the sexual tension would have almost hung heavily in the air. Such was not the case. We were three people, two men and a woman, becoming acquainted.
He was on his last hitch before retiring from the military, had been married and divorced. He had shared custody of his 12 year old son. He didn't know what he wanted to do with his life once he retired. We gave him a thumbnail sketch of our lives.
"Do you need to check on your mom?" I asked her after a time. If she answered yes to the question, I knew she wasn't interested in taking the meeting any further.
"No, she will be fine," she answered.
