I, Brian Diebold, was twenty eight, single, making good money because I founded a small business that exactly suited my talents, and juggling a couple of girlfriends, when I attended a community art organization's annual fund raising event at the invitation of Evelyn, a female co-worker of mine and her husband Jake. Even though I have zero artistic ability, I love The Arts, and one of my goals in life is to ultimately have a classy art collection. Also, I've always liked artsy people because they are so different than the average person you run across, including one of the event hostesses Suzy Carmichael, who was a friend of my mother's before my parents moved to California.
I was really enjoying the conversation, the art on display, and the entire environment surrounding the event when I was introduced by Suzy to a woman named Margi Cohen and her husband Saul. For some reason that I couldn't put my finger on Margi really interested me. She was pleasant looking, but few people would call her beautiful. She didn't have big tits or a bubble butt, but was slinky. I talked with Margi, Suzy, and Saul for about ten minutes when Suzy and Saul took off. I got Margi another glass of wine and myself another Pellegrino, and we wandered off to the veranda where it was cool but otherwise really pleasant.
When I noticed that she looked a little cold I took off my suit jacket and put it around her shoulders. It actually looked humorous on her because I'm six feet four inches (193 cm) tall and she is about five feet three inches (160 cm). "Wow does your jacket feel warm," she sighed with a really nice smile on her face. "Thanks."
When we first started talking it seemed that Margi was very shy even though I could tell by her clothes, the fact that she and Saul had made a $10,000 donation to the non-profit arts organization, she didn't work outside the home although she did volunteer at a number of charities, and since I knew the neighborhood where she told me she lived, that she was wealthy.
After I put my jacket on her she seemed to really loosen up. We talked for the next forty five minutes or so, exchanging jokes, likes and dislikes of various art forms and movies, and all sorts of other things. She had no hesitation about being honest about some things that many women would not be, such as the fact that she was thirty seven years old -- nine years older than I am -- and had a boy and girl twin 13 year olds and a ten year old girl who were driving her nuts, and the fact that she was getting no help in raising them from Saul, who not only travelled too much but was unwilling to ever discipline them or even attend their activities.
The night was drawing to a close and about half the crowd had already left when the weirdest idea ever came across my brain. Since I don't drink alcohol I didn't have that as an excuse for saying what I said next, and sometimes when I reflect upon it I wonder how it ever happened.
"I've really enjoyed talking with you Margi; you're obviously intelligent, articulate, and attractive. I wonder though, would you be interested in entertaining a completely blunt question -- one that might cause any of about ten different reactions from you including possibly a violent one?" I asked with a smile.
She looked apprehensive. "If you're not interested in a frank question, just say so; I don't want to ruin what has been an ultra-enjoyable evening for me and I hope for you."
She stared at me a long time, with a half-smile, half-sneer. "You're a very unusual guy Brian Diebold," she preliminarily said. "I can't imagine what you might say next, especially since I've never had a long discussion with a jock like you before." [It came out during our discussions that I had been a football player at a Division I university.] "Go ahead and ask," she finally said, followed by a gulp.
I looked her straight in the eye and said "I would really like to eat your pussy and then fuck you unconscious. Do you have any interest in a liaison for that purpose?"
Margi's eyes got as big as baseballs; her face flushed; and her lips quivered. When she just stared at me for a good minute without being able to utter a word I smiled and said "I told you that it would be blunt."
After a few more seconds, with her face still flushed and her lips so dry that she had to run her tongue over them she replied "Did Suzy put you up to this as a joke? She keeps telling me that my life is too dull and that I have a bad self-image..."
She obviously was going to continue but I cut her off. "No one put me up to this; although frank it is a serious question."
After another uncomfortable period of time she said "You're nine years younger than I am, a foot taller, and much better looking...why would you ask that?"
"First of all to me age is just a number, second beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and third you sell yourself short. While you may not look like Elizabeth Hurley or Norah O'Donnell, you have the 'it' factor," I seriously responded although with a sly smile.
"Uh...what...what...what's the 'it' factor," she stammered.
"The 'it' factor is a real but unexplainable sexual attraction that one has for another than cannot be logically explained by appearance, personality, or intelligence. Although mysterious and inexplicable it's real -- to me anyway. I've only encountered it once before and I didn't act on it then and I promised myself that if I ever encountered someone with the 'it' factor again I'd do something about it," I stoically replied.
From how flushed she was it was apparent that Margi wasn't going to be able to intelligently respond that night -- at least she didn't scream or kick me in the balls. I looked around and when I saw that the last people on the veranda were exiting I turned my back to the exit blocking the view of Margi from anyone looking onto the veranda, started to take my suit jacket off of her shoulders, and when I did I planted a short kiss with as much passion as I could muster on her lips. Before I put my jacket back on I slipped my business card with my cellphone number on it into her purse and said "Think about it and please call me if you're interested; our little secret."
She preceded me into the main part of the venue with her eyes still wide as baseballs, and immediately went to the women's restroom. I hugged Suzy and the other hostesses goodbye, left a donation check of $1,000 for the arts charity, rounded up Evelyn and Jake, and drove them home. On the way home at one point Evelyn said "I saw you talking to Margi Cohen. She's a really nice, though shy, person and I'm surprised that she didn't run away from you. I've never seen her talk to a man as long as she talked to you."
"We hit it off," I smiled. "You wouldn't think that we could have much in common but we did and it was very enjoyable." Then I changed the subject.
***********
I didn't hear from Margi over the next two weeks and I figured that I had struck out. I did hear from Suzy, though. After she first inquired about my parents' health and circumstances she said "Oh, by the way, you made a real impression on Margi Cohen. She called me to ask all sorts of questions about you. She normally has a bad self-image but during our conversation she was really upbeat when talking about you."
"I couldn't have been the reason for her call," I chuckled.
"No, I guess not," Suzy replied. "However after we talked about the latest exhibit of modern art that we're putting together she did ask questions about you for ten minutes. What did you do to her?"
"I sensed that she doesn't get much attention from Saul, so I just was nice to her."
"Your parents raised you right," Suzy chuckled, "what a good guy you are." Then we mutually terminated the call.
I thought -- although I obviously didn't tell Suzy this -- "I don't think that my Mom raised me to hit on older married mothers."
Suzy hosted a dinner party about a month after the arts fundraiser and she invited me and a date. Margi and Saul Cohen were there. My date was a six foot tall (183 cm) blond with big tits by the name of Julie. I wasn't in any way serious about her, but she was good eye candy. When I introduced her to Margi and Saul -- she was much taller than both of them since Saul is about five feet six inches (168 cm) tall -- Margi's eyes again got as wide as baseballs, and Saul's did too. I think in Margi's case it was that someone who looked like Julie could be my date after I propositioned her, and in Saul's case it was definitely a case of "tititous" (my coined term for big tit worship, ha, ha).
We talked to Margi and Saul -- Margi didn't say much but the other three of us did -- for about ten minutes before Suzy called us to dinner. I was pleased to see that Suzy had positioned me right next to Margi -- she was on my left -- at her large dining room table which easily sat twenty two. During dinner I had lively conversations with Julie and others, and always included Margi in them. She seemed to be kind of shell-shocked, however, since anytime that I thought that I could get away with it I surreptitiously put my left hand under the table and onto Margi's bare thigh, several times moving my fingers very close to her honey pot (close enough to determine that she had panties on).
After dinner we even played a couple of parlor games -- most of the guests had indulged enthusiastically in the appetizer and dinner wines, and post-dinner cordials, so that they were much more fun-loving than normal. I got Margi on my team twice, while Saul and Julie were on another team, and used the experience to make as much subtle contact with Margi as I could.
When things were breaking up while Saul went to get coats and Julie went to the restroom, I blocked everyone's view of Margi with my large body, held her hands, and said "I haven't heard from you, Margi about what we talked about at the fund raiser. I really would like to hear from you." Then I gave her another short but passionate kiss and left her standing there wide-eyed.
The night of the dinner party I took Julie back to my apartment and fucked her brains out. I actually had to giggle to myself when after eating Julie to two intense orgasms and then laying wood to her with maximum passion I thought "Here I've got a hot, six foot, twenty four year old beautiful blond with Double Ds and while I'm fucking her I'm thinking about laying pipe in a nine year older than me five three brunette with a bad self-image. Life -- and me -- are strange!"
*************
Three days after the dinner party about 10 p. m. my cell rang and caller ID said "Margi Cohen." "Hi Margi," I excitedly answered, "How nice to hear from you."
