Some time back, Andy was invited to the 20th birthday party for the daughter of a colleague at the office. The daughter was a pretty girl, surrounded by keen and presumably eligible young men. Andy shook her hand and bent forward to give her a fatherly-type peck on her cheek. She thanked him and that was the extent of their contact that evening.
However, Andy noticed an older woman watching him as he "did the rounds" of guests and family members. When possible, Andy took a good look at her without her noticing. She was quite tall, dressed in a dark blue kaftan-type of over-dress: with intricate gold woven panels around her shoulders, down the front and under her bust.. What struck him was the belt or rope-tie about her waist. It seemed to indicate a neater waist than he would have expected. She looked to be in her 50s: hair beginning to whiten, and some wrinkling around her throat. At one point, Andy asked his host, "Jeff, who's the lady in the blue dress?"
Jeff turned his back on her, it seemed so that she should not hear or watch what he was saying. "She's my elder sister Dorcas. We call her Dee. Don't take too seriously anything she says. She never married after our mother died, and sort-of managed the family when my Dad got heavily into the business-side of things. So she's not got accustomed to our social life or her own emotions, really. You'll meet her in a minute of two."
And he was right as Andy continued meeting people and shaking hands. Dorcas came up to him, instead of watching him from the side of the room, "I know you from Jeff's business meetings, and I know your name is Andrew Darwen but Jeff calls you Andy and you live alone. I'm Dorcas, Jeff's sister. Call me Dee, everyone else does and Dorcas is so old-fashioned," she giggled, "Actually, Jeff calls you Handy Andy because he says you can mend and fix anything that goes wrong or stops working. I've watched you before today and I'm so glad to see you again."
Andy held out his hand to shake but she took it in both her hands and pressed it to her chest. To her breast actually, and said in a whisper, "I think you're a very nice man. I could fall for you. Give him a proper kiss, please."
Andy was stunned. What to do? But she kept pulling on his hand and would have pressed it to her lips which would have been far too intimate a gesture in the midst of the crowd. So Andy leant forward and took her hands in his and planned to kiss her quickly on one cheek. She prevented that plan by turning her face at the last moment, so that their lips met. She smiled broadly as their faces parted.
She pulled him again towards her face and spoke softly in his ear, "I know I'm old and not a pretty girl any more, but I've been watching you for months and I'd like to be with you sometime."
Andy replied as noncommittally as possible, "Of course, we'll meet whenever Jeff arranges a function."
"No; I mean I'd like to spend some time with you all to myself," she replied still speaking softly, "Come over here and let me persuade you. Then you can show me how Handy you are."
She kept hold of one hand and gently pulled him towards the open patio windows; onto a small balcony overlooking the garden. Not wishing to cause a disturbance, Andy let her drag him. And, to be honest, Andy was curious what this older lady had in mind.
Once outside, with no one visible or in earshot, she looked up into his face still holding his hand to her breast, "I've watched you for a long time but you didn't realise it. Now feel at me and see what I've got to offer you."
She took both his hands and pressed them towards her chest again, with his palms upward; so that Andy was cupping two shapely breasts, obviously held firmly in place by a strong bra, rigid even; the bones of which Andy could feel through the fabric of her dress. Andy looked into her eyes and she knew at that moment that Andy was impressed by what he had felt.
"Well," she continued, "feel the rest of me." She pushed his hands down onto her ribs and further to her waist.
Andy was surprised and shocked even to feel the most ferocious old lady's girdle or corset under the loose dress. Maybe not quite a hard corset but moulding her figure and squeezing her waist much more than Andy would have thought possible. Very much as he had noticed earlier. He forgot his reserve and told her, "You feel wonderful."
Andy didn't tell her that her underwear and its effect was exactly what he looked for in a woman, all his adult life. But she must have guessed from the expression on his face, the lingering of his hands on her figure and the gleam in his eyes.
"See, this is how an old lady can please you," she smiled at me, "All this to find out and enjoy if you will come to me, soon. I think you will come and I think you will be very Handy Andy to me," and she winked at him with one eye.
Andy looked at her for a few moments. As he'd thought, she looked to be in her 50s; maybe approaching 60. Maybe 10 or 15 years older than himself. She was heavily made up and her hair obviously a work of art by a coiffeur. Her blue dress had half sleeves, and loose enough not to show the effects of her underpinnings; and ended just above her ankles and her high heeled shoes. Andy wished he had spent few more moments feeling at her thighs, to see if she was wearing stockings; but too late.
They kissed again, as she pressed her tongue against his closed lips. They went back into the party as nonchalantly as possible; and mingled with the crowd; separately and going their own ways.
Andy was now aflame to find out more about this lady and then to discover more of her figure and her foundations. He met up again with Jeff and asked him about Dee, as casually as possible.
He responded, "Well, she'll be 68 years of age next birthday. Like I said, never married, not even had a serious boyfriend, I don't think. But she's lived a sort-of mystery life from our point of view. We've never known where she was, nor who her friends were. Why? What has she been saying to you?"
"Nothing serious," Andy lied, "But you're joking; 68? She seems very fit; I didn't realise her age: I thought maybe 50-something."
"We don't really understand her; she's so much older than the rest of the family and has led a separate life in many ways. Until she retired. Her mother was my Dad's first wife but she died soon after Dee was born. Dad married again some years later and that's where we come from," he smiled at me, "Actually she's mentioned your name a few times to him over the past year or so. I hope she's not been a nuisance," he looked concerned.
"Not at all. She's been very sweet," and they left it there.
As Andy left the party, Dee came to him and pulled him to one side just out of the door, "Please call me at the weekend, Andy. You will be pleased, I can promise you. Here's my number." And she pressed a small piece of paper into his top pocket.