I thought I would try and tell the story of my first "proper" date.
How do I begin? Well, I suppose I should tell you a bit about myself first. I am 22 years old and just recently graduated from my local college and moved to the big city for my first real job. I am fairly shy and reserved which is probably due to a pretty strict upbringing. My mum and I lived with my grandparents since my Dad left us when I was 8. So I was glad to be able to start living my life away from my family. I have long red hair and stand about 5'5.
I wasn't a virgin, I had lost that to my college boyfriend a few years ago. We had broken up half way through our final year. He was romantic, tried very hard to please me but well he never really set my heart going. To be fair he never had a chance. I just never really fancied boys. Men on the other hand, much older men was a different story.
I had always found much older men attractive for as long as I had noticed the opposite sex. At college I had stumbled across a couple of sites of old men and teenage girls having sex and it's the only time I had ever managed to get myself off. It was just fantasy of course. Dating a much older man would have been unthinkable. For a start my family would have killed me.
But I was in the big city now, away from anyone who knew me, free to do what I wanted.
I woke up one Saturday morning slightly hungover. A colleague had set me up on a blind date the night before. He was a nice enough boy but as you will have guessed he was not my type. The wine had made the evening tolerable albeit a rather short and fruitless evening.
I grabbed myself a cup of coffee and got back into bed. I pulled the laptop up from the side of the bed and sipped my coffee waiting for it to finish loading. I needed to find a proper man. I wanted a relationship.
I had realised the internet was my best bet in finding the type of man I was looking for. Well I had after spending an evening fluttering my eyelashes at a fifty year old man across the bar only for him to come over and ask how much!
I opened the internet and started typing. It was not as easy as you would think. Most sites are for girls looking for sugar daddies which was something that wasn't quite right for me. I often get asked why then if it's not for the money. I suppose I like the power and control older men can radiate. There is also something wickedly dirty about giving yourself to someone much older and less attractive. After a few searches I found an interesting looking dating site for those looking for an age difference. I messaged a couple of the men and waited.
The responses were not great. Some were only interested in whether I would send them nudes. Others were unbelievably grateful that a young women might be interested.
One responses caught my eye. It was from an Adam Jenkins (well that's what I will call him for the purposes of the story), he appeared arrogant and sexist. So I did what every self-respecting women should not do and emailed him back. We exchanged a couple more emails and agreed to meet at a fancy French restaurant in the west end on Friday night.
I had been on dates before but not to anywhere posh. Besides did they even count as dates if they were only with boys? I couldn't remember ever feeling this nervous about a date before, I even took the day off work to get ready!
I was regretting the second glass of wine that I had while getting ready, as I balanced on my highest heels getting out of the taxi.
My date was already seated at a table near the door as I entered. He looked mid-fifties and had a grey beard and thinning hair. He was in a very expensive looking smart suit.
He signalled me over to the table. I was aware he was looking me up and down as I approached.
"Jessica?" he asked standing up.
"Mr Jenkins," I replied with a smile.
Should I have called him Adam? I had always been taught to refer to seniors formally and with respect. What was I thinking though? I was on a date with the man. Why were all these crazy thoughts going through my head? He must think I'm an idiot as I stand here with this stupid grin on my face.
"Please sit," he instructed.
I pulled the hem of my tight black dress down aware it was riding up to expose my stocking tops as I sat.