What made having her an absolute necessity to him was the unselfconsciousness with which this woman of advanced age was dressed as a seventeen year old slut intent on sin. It was the utter incongruence of her that made her irresistible.
He had seen her at a table in the corner as he walked through the door of the café. There was no need for him to look around to see if there were any other women around; younger, more obviously attractive or conventionally desirable. It did not matter. It was impossible that he might prefer any of them, so he went and sat at a table quite close to her, though not right next to her. He did not want to be too obvious, even in approaching a woman as obvious as her; nor did he want to her to see how obvious it was that he wanted her and how much he assumed that he was obviously going to have her.
She had been there for fifteen minutes or so before he had arrived and she had eyed all of the men older than sixteen and younger than forty and seen that none of them were adventurers and her eye had fixed on the door in the hope that an adventurer might come. When he arrived she saw him, knew instinctively that what she had been hoping for had arrived and looked away as though she had not noticed him. But he had seen her notice him and she had seen him notice her. He sat down and the game of surreptitious, yet indiscreet looking and looking away began between them.
He was a man of thirty one and an erotic adventurer. He was notably good looking and slim and tall with dark brown hair, dark brown eyes a fine jaw line and good taste in clothes. He pursued the unlikely, the bizarre and the grotesque. He did not seek some ideal woman, or pursue the essence of femininity through a string of beautiful women through whom he might reach some imaginary ideal. He wanted to have every different kind of woman there was and he wanted them for what they were and not what they could represent to him.
She was a woman of sixty-two, but her manner of dress made her appear younger, though not as young as seventeen. A generous observer would have said fifty or so. She was heavy, though not fat and her long peroxide blonde hair was pulled up and tied tight on the top of her head, with a pony tail hanging down the back to her neck and beyond. Her make up was garish and thickly applied. Her lips were painted with the brightest red lipstick and she wore a deep powder blue eye shadow that you could have left fingerprints in. Her eyes were brown and the tones of her skin coffee dark. She was wearing a very tight leopard skin print top that clung to every roll of her torso. The neckline ventured as far south as it could without allowing her very generous boobs to tumble out, though tumbling was only a possibility because they were being pushed up by a bra, their natural bias being to hang.
The bra, as he was later to discover, was red with a decorative lacy pattern around its edges, and entirely see-through, and its outline pressed now against the material of her leopard skin print top. Below she had favoured the tightest of jeans, which clung to her very ample behind and, were she to open her legs a little, would display a very well defined cameltoe, and from the back of which rose the string thin strap of a red thong, the waistband of which had got itself nestled between two of those sumptuous rolls. On her feet were black patent leather four inch heeled stilettos, out of the end of which poked toes whose nails were painted crimson, as were her long fingernails. The excessive quantity of jewellery: a great many bracelets on both wrists, rings on every finger and both thumbs, long dangling earrings that clinked when she moved her head, and an anklet; all over her silver and gold side by side, and they were of expensive type.
She smoked a long, thin cigarette held in a long, thin black and gold cigarette holder. She was drinking a coffee and had a glass of liqueur on the side. The semi-circles of lipstick on the rim of each grew larger with every sip she took.
This was how she always dressed. She had long abandoned the fight that we all fight in the battle against nature, which we cannot win, and accepted defeat and continued to live and dress as though she had won. She gloried in the grotesque spectacle that she was and she knew that every now and then she would meet a young man who had a taste for the grotesque and very mature. She had accepted her body's journey toward decay and had learned that there were young men who liked such bodies and she sought chance meetings with them and sometimes found them. She went out always with hope, but not with expectation, and she was never disappointed when she did not get lucky and she was always very pleased when she did. She had accepted life.
He looked over at her and as he did, she stopped looking at him and turned her head away and pretended to be looking out of the window. A few seconds later she looked back and he looked away. Then a minute or so was allowed to pass and she looked at him again and feeling her eyes eating him, he looked back and this time she did not look away immediately, but allowed her eyes to continue their meal for a second or two before turning aside. He crossed his legs to hide the bulge that his erect cock had pushed up in the crotch of his trousers.
They were locked onto each other, but he would have to approach her soon, before the game became a parody of itself and the moment lost. Timing was of the greatest importance and the time it would take for his erection to go down would be enough time to wait before getting up and going to her table.
That brief time passed and he rose and walked to her table. She knew that he was going to come. His pretext was to ask her for a light. It was vaguely plausible that he did not have a lighter or matches with him, but transparent in that there were other people sitting at tables closer to him who were smoking. In the circumstances it was perfect.
He arrived at her table and asked her for a light. She looked at him feigning disinterest and said yes and picked up the overly ornate gold lighter that was placed on top of a black leather cigarette box cover and handed it to him. The cover had a heart shaped in little gold sequins on it. The sequins were made of real gold.
He light his cigarette and as he handed the lighter back to her asked
'May I sit here?'
She nodded assent.
He sat down opposite her and before he could speak she saved him from a line, as none could have caught the moment, by saying 'are you trying to pick me up young man?'
'That depends on whether you want to be picked up.' He replied.
'I do' she said.
'Then I am.'
'Good. Let's go.'
She called to the waiter and settled her bill. She refused his offer to pay and paid his too.
Their departure together did not go unnoticed and was sniggered over by some other customers. They did not care, because they understood and the sniggerers did not.
