This story details a true encounter way back when I had just turned 21 and was cocky, confident and bullet-proof.
My mother, the fashion buyer for the main department store (the only one) in Maseru, Lesotho, had been on a buying trip to Johannesburg and had gone to a movie to kill some time. In the queue she had got talking to a friendly woman in her early forties.
She took the woman up on an offer to come for tea with her and her 18-year-old daughter at her apartment and in a short time they became firm friends.
I was working in Bloemfontein at the time and when my mum passed through on her way home she mentioned meeting this woman with a very attractive daughter. She said they would love to meet me and that if I was ever in Johannesburg I should look them up.
With this information filed away I got on with my life until about five months later I was invited to a wedding in Johannesburg and needed a place to stay.
I pulled out the number my mum had given me and phoned the woman (Ruth), explaining who I was. She was delighted to hear from me and offered to put me up for the weekend.
I duly arrived early Friday evening and was made most welcome by this slightly overweight, big-breasted, very attractive woman. Her daughter Zelda, she said, had gone down to the coast for the weekend and laughed when I obviously registered disappointment. "You can meet her next time. In the meantime I'll take you out for dinner and then show you the sites of the 'big smoke' on Sunday after your wedding."
We went out for dinner and told each other our life story. She had been a divorcee for 10 years and although she had dated she had not found anyone she wanted to start with all over again. She said she was lonely but didn't want the bother of a man. "In the long run they are just too much trouble."
We were enjoying each other's company, laughing a lot, drinking even more and the evening went by in a flash. She didn't come on to me (although I was hoping she would) but we talked a lot about sex and I got the idea that in the right circumstances I could bed her.
Back at the apartment she showed me to my room and then sat down on the bed. I sat down next to her and the booze had obviously swept her inhibitions away because she started to tickle me, saying: "I'm sorry I'm not a young, nubile thing that you would find attractive." I assured her that I found her very attractive but when I started to tickle her in reply she said: Please don't tickle me."
"Why not?" I asked. "Because if I'm being tickled I lose control. You will be able to do anything you like to me, and I don't want you to think I'm an easy lay. Also, I am old enough to be your mother."
I digested that for all of two seconds and started to tickle her. She giggled and squirmed and while I tickled her ribs with one hand I slipped the other inside her blouse, over her soft, well-filled bra. I stroked her breasts gently over the soft material and then slipped my hand inside, fingers searching for a nipple, which hardened to my touch. "Please don't, you are getting me excited and I don't want to be left high and dry."