Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Blind Date by Telephoneman.

   'Please Dad!' My son pleaded.

   'Do your own dirty work.' I replied for the fifth or sixth time.

   'It's not my fault.  It's Tess's.  As usual.' He moaned.

   Tess was his older sister and as was usual with my eldest child, she was
trying to organise his life for him, whether he appreciated it or not. 
This time she had arranged a blind date for her single brother and had
bullied him into agreeing to meet one of the sisters of a work colleague of
Tess.  I could hear her oft-repeated excuse for her meddling.  'He's
twenty-five and needs a woman in his life.' Steve and I agreed with Tess in
that a girlfriend would be a nice addition to his life, but where we
disagreed, was her role in the process.

   'I forgot Stoke were at home tonight.' He continued moaning.

   'Stoke' was Stoke City FC, his main passion.  I was not too surprised
he'd forgotten; when Tess 'persuaded' people, they soon became so
bewildered that they could easily forget their own names never mind
anything else, plus our local football team rarely played on a Friday
evening.

   At first, he was just going to stand the poor girl up but I wouldn't
hear of that.  I insisted he turn up, even if it was to explain that it was
all a mistake.  Steve was too much a coward for that, and, it also meant
that he would have to miss the start of the match.  Instead my son was
trying to talk me into meeting the girl and apologising for him.

   'You usually go down the Museum on a Friday anyway, and that's almost in
'castle.' He explained as if I didn't know.

   Our nearest town was 'castle, short for Newcastle-Under-Lyme, not the
famous Newcastle of the Geordie's in the North East but a small town at the
north edge of the English Midlands.  My weekly visit to the Museum wasn't
the cultural event it sounds, as the Museum is the name of my local pub and
lies just on the outskirts of Newcastle's town centre.

   Eventually I gave in and agreed to meet his blind date and offer his
apologies.  To be truthful, I did feel just a little sorry for him because
even I knew how hard it was to stand up to my daughter at the best of times
never mind when she considered that she was 'helping' you.

   'You owe me big style!' I cried after him as he ran out the house just
in case I had a change of heart.

   'Cheers Dad!  I won't forget!'

   I laughed inwardly.  Steve will have forgotten before he reached his
car.

   Ten minutes later I rang his mobile phone.  I could almost hear his sigh
from here as he realised who it was.

   'You haven't changed your mind have you Dad?' He asked dejectedly.

   'No!  But a name and place where you're supposed to meet might prove
useful.' I said laughing at his discomfort and our mutual forgetfulness.

   Steve laughed too.  'Sorry Dad!  I suppose you're right, although the
idea of you walking around town asking girls if they're waiting for a blind
date has a certain appeal to it.'

   'Don't push it.' I said more sternly than I felt, as his comment was
typical of our families' sense of humour.

   Steve then told me that the girl's name was Mandy and he was supposed to
be meeting her below the Clock Tower in the high street.  She was tall with
long blonde hair and would be wearing a red top.  Not much, he admitted,
but it was all he knew.

   Ninety minutes later I was standing below the said Clock Tower looking
for a young woman that met Steve's description of Mandy.  A few matched the
tall blonde bit, but none stopped long enough to warrant approaching.  The
only woman who was hanging around was quite petite with long dark hair,
although she did have a red top on.  She was also obviously waiting for
someone so after ten minutes I tentatively approached her.

   'Mandy?' I asked.

   She looked up at me; I was nearly a foot taller, and said.  'Steve?' The
question in her voice echoed my own.

   'No, but I am here on his behalf.' I explained.

   'Ah!  That explains why I didn't think it was you.' She said, her voice
now strong and confident.  'I'm Claire.'

   She saw the puzzlement in my face and went on with a small laugh.  'I'm
here on behalf of Mandy.'

   We talked for a few minutes with me explaining who I was, and truthfully
why I was there and not my son.  Claire laughingly told me that she was
here for almost the same reason; Mandy didn't have anywhere else to go, but
felt that she too had been bullied by HER sister into meeting Steve.  Mandy
was a shy girl, who had a thing for another man and although she had yet to
do anything about it, she did not want to spoil her chances by being seen
with someone else.  She had been stood up in the past and did not like it
at all, so she had no intention of doing it to someone else and had
persuaded Claire to come in her place.

   'Why you?' I asked.

   'First, I'm unattached and secondly Mandy knows that I have a mind of my
own and that I'm quite capable of telling a man to "piss off" if that's
what's required,' she smiled before adding, 'and it usually is.'

   I returned her smile, but I was old enough and, I believe, wise enough
to know when to keep my mouth shut, besides I was not too old to remember
what young men are like around attractive women, so the comment was
probably well warranted.

   'So what were you hoping for tonight?' I asked, more to make
conversation than the desire to know.

   'Hoping for?  I suppose a nice meal with good conversation and an
attractive man to look at.' She answered with a grin.  'What I expected was
some lout, looking for a quick lay, for the least outlay.'

   Once again I found it difficult to argue with her expectations but was
compelled to try and defend my sex.

   'I'm sure some men are like that but I'm sure Stephen isn't.' As I spoke
I saw Claire's eyebrows rise so I corrected myself, because I actually
thought my son was just like that.  'OK!  He's not that bad.'

   I was enjoying talking to this young woman, so I decided to prove that
some men were honourable, if not many young ones and of course, prolong our
conversation.

   'I'll tell you what,' I began, 'how about two of your hopes instead of
your expectations?'

   'Sorry?' Claire responded, unclear as to my meaning.

   'As an apology for my sex, I will supply you with your nice meal and I
hope I can provide reasonably stimulating conversation but the handsome
face to look at will have to depend on who's sitting at the next table.'

   This time she laughed properly, lighting up her eyes.  Without
hesitation she said, 'you're on.'

   We swiftly agreed that a Thai restaurant a few minutes walk away was the
ideal choice, so we set off.  Playing the gentleman to the hilt, I offered
my arm to Claire and was surprisingly pleased when she hooked her own arm
through it with another laugh.

   'I've never done this before,' she commented, indicating our linked
arms, 'it makes me feel a real lady.'

   I turned and smiled at her.  'Deservedly so!  For the rest of the night
that's exactly how you will be treated.'

   The smile I received was enough to make my evening and I still had the
meal to look forward to.  Obviously, by now I had also looked at Claire as
a woman.  As I said earlier, she was slimly built, about 5' 5" tall with
long, almost black hair, held away from her face with a silver hair clip.
Her lower legs were shapely but her knee length coat prevented better
inspection.  Her eyes were grey/green and quite large for her elfin face,
which itself was beautiful and adorned with minimal makeup.  I felt
extremely proud to have this young lady on my arm when we entered the
restaurant.  My one complaint was that no one I knew witnessed the scene.

   Inside I continued the gallantry, pulling her chair back for her and
standing whenever she did.  The removal of her coat enabled me to further
appreciate her, this time the shapely figure enhanced by a subtly patterned
black blouse tucked in a simple black skirt.  A slender red belt, colour
coded to her lipstick, emphasised her equally slender waist.  I also loved
the way her hair flowed about her as she moved.  The overall effect was
pure femininity.  I was amazed that she was unattached.

   On the whole it was a good meal made memorable by the company.  I could
easily see why good conversation was high on her wish list, for she
revelled in it; agreeing and disagreeing with equal passion.  She listened
as well as she talked; a rare combination.  A number of times Claire's
laughter and beauty would bring me an envious look from some other man in
the restaurant.  After ten years of the single life and almost six of
complete celibacy, a topic that amused Claire no end, I remembered just how
good a woman's company could be.  OK!  I wasn't kidding myself about any
relationship but I did bask in her reflected glory.

   Our conversation touched briefly on Mandy and Stephen and what we both
believed they were missing, but I knew, as I'm sure Claire did, that if
either or both had been in our places then it was unlikely to have worked
out as well.  One of the reasons Stephen had capitulated was because he was
told Mandy was blonde with big tits.  For all her beauty I knew he wouldn't
have looked twice at Claire - his loss.

   A few times during the evening I almost reached for her hand, as if we
were on a real date, but each time I managed to restrain myself.  It was as
close as I got to overstepping the mark.

   I learned some, but by no means all, about my delightful young dining
partner.  She was twenty-six, almost thirty years my junior, single through
choice and with no current boyfriend.  Although she'd mentioned that when
we'd first met, I found that, unjustly, I was pleased about the last
snippet.  She lived at home with her widowed mother and worked as a graphic
designer.

   When, eventually, we left our table, I insisted on paying and it was
only when I explained that I could put it through my company as an expense
that she finally agreed to let me.

   I was delighted when; reaching the street Claire immediately hooked her
arm through mine as we headed towards her car.

   I desperately wanted to ask her out again, but was well aware of the
huge age difference.  I didn't want to make a fool of myself nor embarrass
Claire, after all she had given me no hint of being anything other than
passing friends during the evening, so I decided to keep quiet rather than
risk spoiling the evening.  I would leave our relationship to my fantasies.


   As we approached her car it occurred to me that I was walking slightly
differently; I was standing more upright and had my chest, if not actually
puffed out with pride then pretty close.  Once more, I was relishing
accompanying this attractive, and as I had by then discovered, intelligent,
young woman.  We talked for a long time at her car, as if neither of us
wanted to end the unexpected delight of the meeting.

   Finally, after thanking me yet again for paying for the meal, Claire
reached up and pecked my cheek before getting into her car.  She started
the engine of her Mazda MX5, a typically young woman's car, opened the
window and said.  'Next time the meal's on me!'

   She was watching my eyes closely as her words sunk in, or to be more
precise two of the words sunk in, 'Next time'.  When it did, she simply
smiled and drove off leaving me standing there with my jaw dropped and
mouth wide open.

   The walk back home was a daze; dare I even hope for something more than
an occasional meal with Claire.  As usual I dissected my thoughts and
analysed them individually.  The first thing I worked out that my main
attraction to Claire was NOT sexual.  I had been without for long enough to
know that.  I knew that I there was a physical attraction, but no more than
I'd had for many other women over the last few years and I'd had little
inclination to pursue them.  For a reason all my self-probing couldn't
fathom I just wanted to be with her, where was irrelevant.  As per usual in
my life's dealings with the fairer sex I had absolutely no idea what Claire
thought or wanted.  I was confident enough in her to believe that she
wanted to see me again, but the when and especially the why, totally
escaped me.

   A sleepless night left me none the wiser, so I decided to play it cool,
or at least attempt to.  Of course I failed miserably.  Every time the
phone went, I dropped whatever I was doing and rushed to it.  Logic told me
that Claire didn't know my number but it didn't stop me hoping.  Typically
I had calls from every Tom, Dick and Harry that morning.  The only one of
those numerous callers worth listening to was my daughter phoning to check
on Steve and Mandy's evening out.  Initially she was mad at her brother for
chickening out but became at first, amused, and finally hysteric with
laughter when I explained Mandy's substitution and the following events.  I
must admit to not mentioning just how much I'd enjoyed myself.  My daughter
gave me enough stick as it was without me providing more ammunition.  An
hour later I related the story once more when my son eventually managed to
rise, with a similar mocking response.  Stephen reckoned I owed him for
'fixing me up' as he called it.  We laughingly agreed to disagree on that.

   The rest of the day passed without note and come the evening I began to
think that Claire had, in the light of a new day, had second thoughts. 
Sunday passed the same and by now I was sure that I would not hear from
Claire.  I was sad about it, but not upset, as I could not blame the young
woman for not following up a date that wasn't, with a man twice her own
age. I awoke on Monday morning with my mind half-filled with the cherished
memory of Friday, believing that was all I would have of Claire.

   At work, as at home I have a reputation for taking the proverbial, it is
just my sense of humour I suppose, so that day, not being prepared to give
my colleagues an easy chance to rag me, I kept quiet about Friday and when
asked about the weekend, I claimed it had been as dull as ever, which was
true if you did not count Friday as the weekend.

   I got home, late as usual, to find my daughter and son sitting waiting
for me.  For my son, this was normal, he lived with me after all, but my
daughter, I rarely saw her during the working week.  Before I had even had
time to remove my coat Tess showed why she was there.

   'What did you actually do Dad?' She asked.

   'Do?' I asked back, puzzled by her appearance and the question.

   'Yes!  Do?' She repeated impatiently.  'On Friday!' She explained seeing
that I still had no idea what she meant.

   It took a few moments to realise that she was talking about Friday
evening and Claire.  The first thing that went through my mind, perhaps
helped by my daughter's insistent question, was, 'had Claire complained
that I had done something to her?' Before I could think more about that I
automatically defended myself.

   'Do!  I did nothing.  I didn't even touch her.' I exclaimed a little too
loudly.

   Tess looked exasperated and Steve was laughing, but he managed to
explain.  Unlike his sister, and probably because he was male, he didn't
assume that I instinctively knew what was in his mind.

   'Don't worry Dad.  Nobody is saying you did.' He was still laughing and
did so even more when he looked at Tess and added, 'and I don't think she
would have complained if you had.'

   Tess too, seemed to find this amusing.

   'So what's this all about?' I demanded.  After working all day I was not
really in the mood for riddles.

   Tess calmed down a little and said, still smiling.  'Apparently Claire
has not shut up about you all weekend.  According to Jen, Claire reckons
you're the best thing since sliced bread.'

   'Jen!  And who is Jen?' I asked.

   'Jen is Mandy's sister, the one I work with, you know, the one who
helped set up Friday night.' Tess then had a little laugh.  'Although, of
course!  That was supposed to be between Steve and Mandy, not you and
Claire.  Anyway!  Jen reckons that Claire reckons that you're the nicest
man she's ever met.' She looked at me then with a grin continued.  'Which
of course just means she doesn't really know you yet.  That, or she's only
knows complete bastards.'

   'Cheers!' I said, but for the first time since arriving home I was
actually smiling.

   'Anyway Dad,' Stephen chimed in, 'just what did you do to have such an
impact on her?'

   'Yes Dad!  What did you do?' asked Tess too.

   'Nothing special!  We just went for a meal and talked.'

   'It must have been more than that,' complained Tess.

   'Not really; when we first met she complained about men being after only
one thing,' I looked at Stephen and he just grinned inanely, 'so, I did
make an effort to treat her like a lady.'

   'Whatever it was really worked,' Tess said.  'When are you seeing her
again?'

   'I don't know.' I answered honestly.

   'You ARE seeing her again?' My daughter half asked, half demanded.

   'I don't know.' I repeated.

   'Do you want to?' Tess asked, serious for a change.

   Before I could reply, my son said with another grin.  'Of course he does
Sis, you should have seen his face Saturday, it was like the cat that got
the cream.'

   I thought for a moment, not whether I wanted to see Claire again, I
already knew that, but whether I wanted my kids to know.  I knew their
amusement was not spiteful so I decided on the truth.

   'Yes I would like to see her again.  However she is a bit young for me
or I'm too old for her, whichever way you look at it.'

   'So are you going to ring her?' Tess demanded to know.

   'Difficult, as I don't have her number.' I answered sheepishly.

   My two children looked up at the ceiling, then at each other before
simultaneously saying 'Parents!'

   Tess immediately took her phone out and dialled a number from her
phone's memory.

   'Hi Jen!' She began, 'Have you got Claire's number?' She waited a few
moments then said, 'OK!  Talk to you in a few minutes.'

   I looked hard at Tess and asked, 'Are you sure you don't mind?  Claire
is younger than you, you know.'

   'Cradle snatcher!' was her reply.

   A few seconds later the tune to 'The Addams Family' filled the air,
signifying that her mobile was ringing.

   Tess grabbed a pen from the shelf and started scribbling on an old
envelope.  'Thanks Jen!  I'll ring you back when I get home.'

   'Give me your mobile!' my bossy child ordered.

   I complied, expecting her to enter what I assumed to be Claire's number
into my phone's memory.  This she did, then immediately rang the number,
listened until a reply was heard then handed the phone back to me.  As soon
as I'd stuttered a grunt that was close to 'Hello!' Tess grabbed her
brother's arm and pulled him out of the room, shutting the door behind
them.

   'Hello!  Who is this?' Claire's voice asked confidently.

   'It's David!' I replied, my spirits rising at the sound of her voice.

   'Oh hi!  I'm glad you called.' Claire said; her words lifting my spirit
yet higher, then adding with a smile in her voice, 'you took your time
though!  I was beginning to think you didn't want to.'

   I then had to explain my doubts and worries, all of which were laughed
away by Claire.  Finally, she, somehow, got me to admit just how much I did
want to see her again.  I think she was rather surprised, as she went very
quiet.  So quiet in fact I thought I'd blown my chance of seeing her again.
When she did speak, she made no mention of it.

   'So what made you change your mind and ring me then?' is what she did
say.

   I explained my homecoming reception and Tess's actions in getting her
number.

   'Oh damn!' I heard Claire say, 'of course you didn't ring; I forgot you
didn't have my number.  It felt as if we'd known each other so long I never
thought about it.'

   'Same here,' I admitted.

   We chatted for another half an hour about absolutely nothing, when
during one of my longer listening moments, Tess and Stephen came back in.

   Seeing I was still on the phone they both grinned and Tess mouthed the
question, 'when are you seeing her again?'

   Sensing that my attention had left her briefly Claire asked,
intuitively, 'are your children back?'

   I told her they were and after a few more words we agreed to meet on
Wednesday evening.  When I eventually hung up - acting all teenage by
waiting for Claire to hang up first - I felt better than I had in years.

   Tess, once she knew I was to see Claire again, left with a smug grin. 
Steve just commented, 'Good on yer, Dad!' and went up to his room.  I sat
in my favourite chair, only to realise I still had my coat on.  I swiftly
removed it, hung it up and returned to my comfy chair to contemplate the
last half hour or so.  Apart from the embarrassment of having my children
involve themselves in my private life, everything was good.  In fact, I had
initially thought 'my sex life' before correcting my own thoughts.

   For the first time I began to seriously contemplate making love to
Claire.  I had already fantasised about her but now I was wondering if
there was now a chance that something could actually happen.  I had now
passed beyond fantasy into hope.  True, I recognised all the reasons not
to, but once in my mind that hope would not leave.  Of course the hope also
extended beyond mere sex to a proper relationship and I was honest enough
with myself to know that, for all the age gap, is what I wanted most,
although the erection I was sporting proved physical desire was pretty high
too.  My arousal was strong enough to need relief, which was provided
during a long hot shower.

   Over the inordinately long next forty-eight hours, I felt like a
schoolboy with his first crush, sleeping only in fits and starts and, most
unusually for me, my appetite disappeared.  Typically, I tried to predict
all the possible outcomes, not only for Wednesday itself, but for the
short-term future as well (even in my most optimistic scenarios I couldn't
see a long-term future for us).  It took little effort to work out my
behaviour for my 'date'; it would be as before, acting the perfect
gentleman.  Deciding what I was going to wear proved more difficult until I
asked my daughter.  Her reply was so typically logical.

   'It doesn't matter Dad.  You didn't dress up on Friday, besides if she
were into 'appearance' in her men then she wouldn't be seeing you.  Would
she?'

   So early Wednesday evening, casually dressed, I walked slowly, as I was
twenty minutes early, and nervously to the pub where we were to meet.  The
gentleman part of me had misgivings about meeting her inside a pub, but the
twenty-first century woman overrode my objections.  I ordered a glass of
white wine, not wanting my breath smelling of beer, which was my usual
tipple when in a pub; pubs not being noted for the quality of their wines.
I sat down facing the door, feeling foolish for being so excited, and
waited.  To my delight Claire arrived early too, only a couple of minutes
but early, wearing the same coat as before, but higher heels making her
lovely legs look even better.

   Swiftly I rose and went to greet her.  Her genuine smile on seeing me
warmed my heart and helped alleviate most of the butterflies that had been
tormenting my stomach.  The brief kiss on my lips sent them all back again,
this time accompanied by their whole families.

   'Hi!' she said in the sweet voice I had rapidly come to love.

   'Hi beautiful!' I replied, surprising myself with the confidence in my
voice, I'd half expected to splutter.

   To my further surprise Claire blushed at the complement.

   'I suppose that's one advantage of going out with an old man.' She
replied.

   'Ah!  You mean the complement.' I grinned.

   'No!  I mean the poor eyesight.' She laughed.

   We continued in the same vein for the rest of the evening, laughing and
joking as if we'd known each other for years and there was no generation
gap separating us.  We ate at an Italian restaurant, once more walking to
it with linked arms, where Claire insisted on paying.  Again her attire was
simple and elegant, this time a short sleeved black dress with a neckline
that just showed the merest hint of cleavage, although with her breasts
matching the rest of her petite frame Claire was never going to display
much in the way of cleavage.  It suited me, as, unlike my son, I preferred
smaller breasts.

   Throughout the evening I behaved impeccably, although as we were waiting
for coffee I reached across the table to hold Claire's dainty hand.  She
smiled at my touch and placed her other hand on mine to show me that she
approved.  It was the first romantic touch that we had shared and I felt my
stomach churn as her hand covered mine.

   The walk to her car was different from Friday's.  We had already made
plans to see each other again, so this time I didn't need to strut, didn't
care if anyone saw us or not, I knew that this fabulous woman was with me,
and that I'd be seeing her again, knowledge that was more than enough.

   At her car I held the door open for her to get in but to my amazement
she just pushed it shut and turned to look at me.

   'This model behaviour thing can go too far you know!' she stated.  'Do
you want to kiss me?' She demanded.

   Before I could answer, Claire looked at me and in a softer voice
answered for me.  'Of course you do.  You're just trying to prove that some
men can keep their hands to themselves.  The problem is that when we have a
good man like that, we women don't want him to.  Oh!  Just kiss me.'

   I was more than willing to oblige so I leaned back against her car with
my legs spread wide and pulled her to me.  This way the height difference
was marginal and our lips met for the second time.  The first kiss of
greeting was sweet enough, but now we kissed with a passion that had been
simmering for most of the evening.  I'd forgotten just how good a kiss can
be, not just the taste of her mouth and touch of her tongue against mine,
but the physical contact as her body pushed against mine, the smell of her
hair; all of this overpowered my senses and left behind just an immense
pleasure.

   When we finally broke off the kiss, we looked closely at each other;
both of us a little taken aback by just how much went into that kiss.

   'I think I'd better go.' Claire said to my great disappointment.  She
then cleared my momentary dismay by adding with a grin, 'whilst I still
can. Its a good job I'm driving - my legs have gone all wobbly.' She
finished with a laugh.

   'I know what you mean.' I said meaningfully.  'Thanks for a wonderful
evening and you were right as you could probably tell.'

   'Right about what?' she asked.

   'About me wanting to kiss you!  I've been wanting to do that since about
an hour after meeting you.'

   'It took a whole hour!' she said with simulated disgust.  'I must be
losing my touch.'

   Knowing that she was about to leave and that I wanted to prolong the
moment, I took hold of both her hands and gently pulled her to me.  With my
hands on her slim waist I leaned down to meet her lips.  This kiss was as
different again as the first, more gentle and loving, softer, our tongues
teasing rather than fighting each other, but is was no less pleasurable.

   Claire eventually pushed herself away.  'Its a good job my Mum's at home
or I'd have dragged you back by now.' She laughed.

   'You wouldn't have needed to drag me.' I responded.

   'True!  But I do have to get back.  Some of us have to get up early in a
morning.' Claire had already mentioned an early morning train she had to
catch.

   'Ok!  I'll let you go.'

   It was actually another twenty minutes and two further kisses before
Claire finally drove off.  I walked home, although I'd swear I was floating
rather than walking.

   Apart from a few hours of sleep, I do not a single hour passed without
some sort of contact with each other, be it phone, email or text.

   I finished work early on Friday, so decided I'd have a long soak in the
bath before meeting Claire.  I shower to keep clean, but I adore the
relaxing sensation of a really hot bath.  As usual there was little on my
mind other than the young woman I was meeting later that evening.  It was
during that bath that I asked myself if I was already in love her, was it
infatuation or just sheer lust.  I swiftly excluded the latter, but the
remaining choice was harder.  I don't recall ever being infatuated before
so I wasn't too clear exactly how infatuation affected people and though I
was pretty sure that I was NOT in love I was equally certain that it
wouldn't take much to take that fateful step.  I knew I should tread
carefully, I'd been very badly hurt when my marriage broke up, in fact I
wasn't sure that I was fully over that pain, so did I want to risk it
again, especially, given the age difference that the risk was so much
higher.

   I had suggested that, being a Friday, we go to a club or music pub, of
which Newcastle seems full of these days, but Claire declared that she
wasn't really partial to the modern music that blares out in these places.
She had suggested a Chinese restaurant about a mile outside of town.  It
was only a mile or so away and therefore easily within walking distance for
me, had a good reputation and its own car park, so I concurred.

   Once more I arrived early for our date but Claire had beaten me to it.
She was waiting in her car and almost ran to me as I crossed the car park.
Although it took only a few seconds to reach me I still had plenty of time
to take in her beauty.  She was wearing a knee-length black coat and a
skirt or dress underneath as her fabulous legs were on show.  My heart
quickened in happiness that this lovely young woman was so happy to see me.
We kissed as soon as she reached me but both of us held back a little,
knowing that the evening was only just starting.

   I remember the food as being excellent that evening, but how much of
that was down to my companion rather than the actual food I'm not sure. 
The pleasure started as we sat down with Claire removing her coat,
revealing a blood red blouse and simple, but short black skirt.  Never mind
the meal, I wanted to eat my partner.  We held hands for most of the
evening, apart from when we were making fools of ourselves with chopsticks.
We both drank soft drinks, Claire because she was driving; me because I
didn't want my memories of her clouded by alcohol.

   At the end of the meal, as we were waiting for the bill, I asked her,
'Where do we go from here?'

   I knew the question was ambiguous, I had intended it to be.  What I
really wanted to know is where, if anywhere, our relationship was heading.
If that proved embarrassing for Claire she could answer with a place.

   She did neither.  Instead she reached into her handbag and removed a
toothbrush and held it up in front of me.  She had a smile, the warmth of
which would have saved the Titanic.  I felt a similar warmth flood through
me and when it reached my heart I knew, without doubt that I loved this
fabulous young woman, not because she was willing to sleep with me, but of
the thoughtful way she had let me know.  I leaned across the table and
kissed her with all the love and tenderness I was feeling.  It was a
lengthy kiss and when we pulled apart I became aware of other people's
stares.  The kiss was meant as a big thank you but it also had the
advantage of giving my ageing brain a chance to think before I was required
to talk.  Instinctively I wanted to tell her that I loved her, but caution
prevailed, as I did not want to scare her off as a declaration of love may
have done.

   I swiftly paid the bill and literally swept Claire to her car.  Once in
the car we kissed once more, this one took our budding relationship onto
the next level.  It was soft, yet passionate, the type of kiss that is as
much emotional as physical; a kiss that can only occur between two people
who care deeply for each other.  It told me more about Claire's feelings
for me than the toothbrush and its implications ever could.  For those
brief moments nothing else mattered beyond the woman in my arms and her
soft lips pressed against mine.

   As I reluctantly pulled away the words 'I Love You!' formed in my mind
but before I could say anything, Claire, as if telepathic, put a finger
against my lips and whispered.

   'Not now David!  Just tell me where you live and lets go to bed.'

   We drove to my home in silence, but in as much contact as the car and
safety would allow.  As we approached my front door I momentarily wondered
if Stephen was still at home, but instantly decided I didn't care.  If he
was then he didn't make it known as we went straight to my bedroom.  Claire
chucked the overnight bag she'd retrieved from her car onto the floor and
turned to me and opened her arms.  Swiftly I pulled her to me for a kiss
and embrace.  As desperate as I was to make love to her, I was more intent
on doing things right.  I wanted to please my young, soon to be, lover.

   Once we were in the bedroom and knew what would be happening the urgency
left us, well me anyway, I don't think that Claire felt it as much.

   We kissed, gently, as if we'd been lovers for years, our tongues
greeting each other like old friends.  Because of the height difference I
pushed Claire to the bed and attempted to lower her softly on to it. 
Unfortunately I failed and we both fell on to it, with me landing heavily
on top of my petite partner.  We both burst out laughing.  I was lying on
top of her, my face inches above hers watching her eyes as the mirth
expressed itself.  I stopped laughing, suddenly filled with a warmth so
strong.  I recognised earlier that I loved her, but even I was taken aback
at the power of love I was now feeling as I looked down on the young woman
beneath me.

   It was a special moment in our relationship, as Claire seeing my look,
stopped laughing but retained a gorgeous smile, looked back at me, sensing
I think, my thoughts.

   Once more, I felt the urge to tell her that I loved her, but as daft as
it may seem, also felt that this wasn't the right time.  I didn't want her
to think I was saying it just because we were about to make love.  Instead
I kissed her sparkling eyes, then her nose before taking each lip, in turn,
into my mouth kissing and running my tongue over them.

   My lips then began teasing her neck and throat, sometimes straying to
nibble an earlobe.  I undid the top button of her red silk blouse and
kissed the flesh that that exposed.  The next button followed and the next,
until I was kissing the top of her right breast, exposed by her half-cup
bra.  My fingers continued to undo the blouse as my mouth worked her small
breasts, sucking and biting each nipple through her sexy red bra, selected,
I hoped just for this moment.  Her hands released my head to shake off the
now superfluous blouse and reached behind to unclip the bra.  My mouth left
her just long enough for the bra to be snatched away.  I wanted to gaze at
the perfect mounds that I'd dreamed about, now exposed to me, but Claire
had other ideas, pulling my mouth back to her protruding nipple.  The
pleasure of vision rapidly replaced by that of touch.

   Whilst my mouth was occupied with her breasts my hand moved to her leg,
just above her knee and below her skirt.  I could feel the firmness of her
legs but also the hated feel of tights.  I rubbed and squeezed, moving my
hand to the inside of her thigh, and then moving up under her skirt.  My
heart was pounding in anticipation when it suddenly beat even faster.  My
hand had encountered bare skin; she was wearing stockings not tights.  Even
with the thrill of feeling her naked thighs I still thought about the
preparation that Claire had put in to make this night special.  I loved her
the more for it.  I lifted my head from her breast to look at her, my eyes
and smile showing my appreciation.

   Her eyes shone with happiness and for a few moments nothing else
mattered other than the loving kiss I had to give her.  The urgency within
our bodies permitted that kiss only a few brief seconds before demanding
that I return my attention to where I left it; my lips returning to her
nipple and my fingers tracing a winding but definite path up her thigh. 
She opened her legs wider allowing me to touch the silk smoothness of her
panties.  That first touch was electrifying.  Claire literally jumped of
the bed, even though she must have been ready for it.  For me, it was the
amazing amount of heat emanating through the sheer garment.

   As I pressed a finger harder against the silken material I could feel
the dampness of her desire.  If I was in any doubt to that need Claire rid
it by emitting a long and loud moan of pleasure and pushing my head firmer
against the nipple I was sucking.

   I continued to stimulate her pussy through her panties for a couple of
minutes before the desire to explore her properly forced my hand up the few
inches it required to find the flesh above those brief panties.  My fingers
then went down again, this time inside the offending material, relishing
the relative coarseness of her pubic hair.  Unintentionally my finger
rubbed against her clit, which was already engorged.  Once more Claire
jumped and let out an even louder moan.

   Swiftly I moved my finger away, that pleasure was for later.  I moved it
to the heat of her sex.  Her pussy lips were wet enough to allow my fingers
an easy path to her core.  Very slowly I inserted my middle finger,
appreciating the firm grip her intimate muscles had but adoring the effect
that I was having on my lover.

   As my finger reached as far as it could travel, I felt a totally unfair
feeling of jealousy.  Claire, understandably, was not a virgin; she had not
intimated it but I could not help that fleeting moment of, not anger or
true sadness, just a disappointment I suppose, that I would not be the
first for her.  The feeling lasted no more than a couple of seconds but I
did not like myself for it.

   I started to move my head down her sexy young body, but suddenly Claire
stopped me.  She sat up, pushed me onto the bed and said.

   'Not yet darling!  It's your turn first.'

   She then began to undo and then remove my shirt as my mind was doing
somersaults at her endearment.

   Once my shirt was off Claire began on my trousers, swiftly removing
them, my boxers, shoes and socks in one clean movement.

   Needless to say, but I was rampant, which Claire now turned her
attention to.  With her delicate hands she stroked my average sized manhood
to its full splendour, as it was my turn to throw back my head and moan my
pleasure.

   There was a few seconds of cool air on my cock as her hands momentarily
left it.  As I registered this I looked up to see Clair removing her
panties; she'd had the foresight to wear them over the garter belt.  I
smiled, as I took in her beautiful body, naked from the waist up.  She saw
me watching and grinned before positioning herself above my head.  Slowly
she lowered her hips offering my mouth her pussy, which I gratefully
received.

   My tongue dived straight into her, following the course my finger had
taken moments earlier.  My mind was suddenly split in two as first I felt
her hand grip my rock hard cock followed almost immediately by the wet
warmth of her mouth.  I both love and hate 'soixante neuf'; I love the
closeness, the giving and receiving all in one; I hate my inability to
concentrate on both simultaneously.

   With great effort I decided to focus on giving Claire her pleasure.  I
was honest enough to know that I'd be blowing my load within a few seconds
otherwise.  Gripping her skirt clad hips I pulled her further down on to my
mouth, sucking her clit between my lips and running my tongue rapidly
across it.  Her body shook with pleasure and, I think, accidentally she
dropped her head, engulfing my whole cock in her mouth and throat.

   For me this was a first and my earlier decision was put on hold as I
savoured the signals my cock was sending to my already over stimulated
brain.  Recognising that she had the upper hand Claire's mouth and tongue
doubled their efforts, forcing my hips to thrust faster and harder to match
them.

   Despite my wish to please Claire it was only a few moments before I was
spurting into the depths of her throat.  How she didn't choke I have no
idea, but truthfully for those few seconds I didn't care as my body ruled
my brain.

   I was immediately drained but knew I had to give Claire the same sort of
orgasm that she'd just give me.  It took a while before my body was
recovered enough to put in my full effort, but in the mean time I just
licked her pussy, tasting her excitement.  After that and without my own
stimulation to distract me, I soon had Claire on the verge as I
concentrated on her clit, sucking, gently biting and pressing my tongue
hard against it.  As I felt my lover's approaching climax, I slid two
fingers deep into her and began to bend and straightening them.  It was all
it took.  I could feel her legs spasm as the gripped my head.  Claire's
orgasm lasted longer than any other I could recall, or it might have just
seemed like that trapped between her delicious thighs.  The other thing
about that moment that will remain embedded in my mind is the overpowering
aroma of her excited body.

   When she eventually came down, she released my head and turned around to
lie on top of me.  We kissed, the salty taste reminding me of my own
earlier pleasure.

   'Not bad for an old man!' Claire said, trying to maintain a straight
face.

   I gently slapped her bum, which was still covered with her skirt.

   'That the best you can do.' Claire laughed.

   This time I slowly lifted her skirt above her waist, stroking and
caressing her taut cheeks as I did so.  Then, halfway through a caress, I
slapped her naked buttock quite hard.  I kept my hand cupped so it would
sound much worse that it was.

   'Pig!' She shouted and began to thump my chest aping the damsels in
distress in all the old films, which might have worked had she not being
laughing so loud.

   My hands hadn't left her firm arse and as I kneaded and squeezed, my
cock began to rise again.

   'Pervert as well!' Claire managed to say between her bouts of mirth.

   I pulled her mouth back to mine, needing my fix of her lips.

   'Of course I'm perverted.' I said when we broke the kiss, 'who else,
other than a pervert, and an old one at that, could love a minx like you?'

   'So you finally said it.' Claire said suddenly serious.

   As soon as I'd said it I knew that I shouldn't have, but it just seemed
so natural.  'I'm sorry.' I began.

   Claire's eyes showed gentleness I hadn't seen before.  'What are you
sorry for?  For loving me or for telling me?' My lover asked.

   The question took me by surprise.  'For telling you of course.' I
managed to reply.

   'But I already knew, I've known for a while!' Then she grinned,
'probably before you did!'

   I was lost.  'Then why...' I said, and then stopped not knowing what
question I wanted answered.

   She kissed me quick on the lips before she answered the question I'd
been unable to ask.  'Because, I love you too!  Stupid!  You don't think
I'd be lying here in bed with some old bugger if I didn't love him?'

   My sense of humour was coming back.  My eyes must have sparkled a bit
because before I could say anything, Claire said sternly.  'Don't you dare
answer that!' I didn't bother to ask her how she knew what I was about to
say; I'd already noticed it was a skill she possessed in abundance.

   'Now are you going to make love to me before I grow as old as you.'

   Then, something that had never happened before or since but I was
instantly erect, no gradual build up but immediate hard on.

   Claire, lying on top of me was aware, even a little impressed.  'At
least someone's awake around here.' She grinned.

   She then moved until my cock was positioned right and simply slid down
my body allowing me to enter the woman I loved for the very first time. 
The heat that surrounded my cock and the way she used her virginal muscles
removed all other thoughts from my head.  Slowly at first we made love,
joined by our sexual organs and our mouths, until Claire needing more, sat
up on my thighs.  At no time did she allow contact to be broken.

   Our lovemaking then became more intense as Claire rode me as if life
itself depended on it, which for that moment in time ours did.

   Despite my earlier release, it wasn't long before I was succumbing to
her demanding body again and once more ejaculating deep into the woman I
loved.  Claire did not reach orgasm that first time but I hopefully made up
for that during the long night.

   Halfway the night, in a moment between sleep and sharing each other, I
asked Claire how she knew that I loved her.  She smiled and said it was
obvious to anyone who looked at me - a point later confirmed by both my
children.

   I asked her to marry me, which unsurprisingly she declined, saying that
we should enjoy each other and see what happened.

   A year to the day I proposed again and this time Claire agreed to become
my wife.

   One other thing!  A few months later Stephen and Mandy met at a party
given by Claire and myself.  They clicked immediately, initially unaware of
their missed blind date, and have been together ever since.

   Telephoneman 2005 Comments / Criticisms are welcome.  It is the only
payment a writer receives.  Telephoneman69@hotmail.com