It was my favorite way of meeting men...the old-fashioned way, the Internet. I was thirty-nine, divorced with children and had a full-time career. Who had time to screw around with dating just to get a good screw every now and again? It was much simpler for me to just log-in to a chatroom, use a bit of verbal banter and let the chips fall where they may. I had a routine actually. We would meet for coffee in a very public and perfectly safe place. Someone always knew who I was with, where we were going and when I would be back. And I always carried my own protection...Magnums, of course.
So Charles was no different. Except that he stood barely five foot four inches tall and a stiff breeze would have blown him away. His glasses were so thick that you could start a fire with those lenses. As clichΓ© as it may seem, he even had a pocket protector hanging from his slightly rumbled green plaid shirt. Thankfully though his hair was not slick or combed across his head to hide a balding spot. Its soft brown curls more resembled the disarray of a young Albert Einstein. He definitely was NOT my type.
But I always prided myself on being polite; as well as remembering how I had just lectured my teenage daughter on how unfair it was for her and her friends to judge others solely on looks. So I squared my shoulders; proudly thrusting out my 38D breasts against the thin white silk material. I extended my hand towards my coffee companion and formally introduced myself. After all, it was only a cup of coffee.
The conversation was stimulating, if a bit boring. Since my 'date' turned out to be a researcher working for one of the top cosmetic lines, I learned things about chemistry and cosmetics that I would rather not know. But each sip of my Venti black-eye brought me closer to my escape. Then I could not fight nature's call any longer. I politely excused myself for the ladies' room.
After answering the call, I spent a couple of moments straightening my appearance and gathering my courage. Looking into the large mirror over the lavatory, I reminded myself that I was still a handsome woman for my age. I had no problem attracting male attention; even now I had noticed more than one male head turn as I conversed with my 'date.' Picking up my purse, I headed back to my 'date.' Five more minutes was the thought that filled my mind at the moment.
I smiled politely as I returned to my seat. I picked up my coffee and took a large gulp; attempting to empty it quickly so I could excuse myself. I could hear my 'date' droning on about his research with pheromones for a perfume line, but my thoughts were more focused upon the fiery itch that seemed to be spreading from between my legs: an itch that begged to be scratched...erotically speaking. I could also feel my pink nipples harden within the silky confines of my underwire bra. They were painfully roused as they brushed against the warm material. But the flood between my legs was actually beginning to soak through the matching silk thong and was threatening to begin leaking down my inner thighs. I was a woman accustomed to indulging my sexual appetites, but nothing like this had ever happened to me before. It was embarrassing to say the least.
My odd friend looked me over slowly and smiled. 'Perhaps we should get out of here?'