Foreword:
Readers, I hope you enjoy this little distraction. Any errors or omissions are mine. Comments can be sent to evecho@netscape.net.
My other stories can be found at http://www.thesandbox101.com/evecho_links.htm
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© March 2005
I wiped the surface of our icky metal table, using a total of five serviettes from the red holder before Lennie brought our drinks.
"Thanks." My eyes zoomed in to check my spoon for water spots or worse, fingerprints.
Lennie was ripping up sugar packets, two at a time, and some spilled. I wiped that up too.
She stirred her cappuccino vigorously, her spoon clinking against the mug, but not hard enough to blend the foam into the coffee. That was her favourite and she slurped it quickly, ahhing as her tongue swiped her upper lip.
I didn't need to watch her go through the ritual since I'd seen it all before. I was more concerned about the hotness of my drink - I hated a lukewarm coffee. If I wanted it cold, I would have ordered a frappe.
"Will you look at that?" she whispered, an interested eyebrow lifted to someone over my shoulder.
"Is it the chick you're dating?" I knew she was seeing one of the girls working behind the counter, that was why this was my third visit here this week.
"Oh, no. This one is a hot mama!" she gave a low whistle under her breath.
"Uh hmmm." I wasn't going to turn around. Lennie was a bit of a dog around women but hey, she was young, and the young are entitled to act stupid. They have all those hormones to settle. I know, I'd been there.
"I think you'll like this one, Ash." She nodded her head encouragingly. "She's nearer your age."
I looked at her over the rim of my glasses.
"Whaaaaatt?" She shrugged with her hands spread. "She's, like, older. You know, in your age group?"
My eyes narrowed before I heaved a big sigh and dropped my gaze back to my flat white.
"So, what time does your girl get off work?" I changed the subject.
Her smile crooked to one side. "Oh, yeah. Dunno, soon, I think." I knew her shift ended in a half hour.
I fiddled with the napkins and drank my coffee slowly, thankful for the way it stayed warm inside towards the bottom of the cup. Lennie had finished hers way before me and her leg was bouncing under the table. I'm sure it was just as eager to be off running to the counter to allow its owner to moon over her girlfriend.
When the three of us left the coffeeshop, I was already thinking about tomorrow. With my attention half off, I let my eyes wander over the other customers, including a profile I thought looked familiar. But there were plenty of women with deep russet coloured hair and long lashes. I wondered what her eyes looked like? All this passed through my mind in the millisecond before I pushed open the glass door and hurried after Lennie and her nth girlfriend.
I left them giggling and holding hands on their way to the trains. On my own, I decided to visit some overpriced food stores to indulge myself. After all, I didn't have a girlfriend to impress so I might as well do it for me.
The next day, Lennie met me at lunchtime. She found a seat in the busy area and beckoned me over. Between mouthfuls, she waved a local paper and handed over some magazines. Apparently, she wanted me to check out the articles she had circled inside. Lennie was always talking about buying a car. Even though she couldn't afford the one she wanted, she would keep track of the used car sales like a stock market analyst. It wasn't uncommon for her to ask my opinion.
As I dumped my lunch containers in the trash, something caught my hearing under the loud buzz of voices in the food court. It was a familiar chuckle, or laugh, or voice, but it was gone as soon as I recognised it. Strange, this was the second time in two days that my memory had been triggered. I knew these sort of things happened in threes, I could wait patiently for the next clue.
That evening, after dinner, I spread out the publications Lennie had given me. Ten minutes later, I poured myself a glass of wine. The little shit had circled the Personals in them. She even narrowed it to professional women in their 30s and 40s, the type she thought would interest me.
I toyed with ideas of revenge but gave up, she would just hound me to start dating in another way. Switching off all the lights except for the lamp next to the couch, I made myself comfortable with a lesbian romance.
But it wasn't long before my mind came back to my single status. The characters in the book were already having sex and drama. I wasn't getting any of either. Working in a research department was stimulating in a limited way but I wanted fun in my personal life too.
Hence, Lennie or Leandra. She's barely in her twenties and only interested in other young girls. She's a kid to me, one who is a bit self-centred and mainly concerned with street fashion, gadgets and fads. She likes girls a lot and jokes about my age and my "single but not looking" status. But she's also a lot of fun, not mean-spirited. She reminds me of me at that age, or the me I might have been if I had grown up in gay-friendly times.
Not that I had had a rough time coming out. There was the usual bi-sexual phase, the affirmation of personality over gender, the platitudes of politically correct responses, but I was so relieved when I was secure enough to say that I liked women and women only. Then the dating games began. Awful, funny, hot and finally, boring.
I had had three serious girlfriends. Serious in my mind but since they didn't last ever after, I must have been mistaken on their part. Why was I thinking like this? Had it been that long since I had sex? Well, yes. A memory of heaving breasts within reach of my mouth and thick sweaty auburn hair on the side shook my libido.
Setting aside the book, I dragged the mags closer. Maybe it was time to get back into the game.
*******************
Thursday was shopping night. I loved to poke about in the Shopping Village to see what was on sale or in season. In an age of supermarket monopoly, I tried to split my spending between them and the specialist shops. I far preferred the latter but sometimes, their indecent prices just made my eyes water.
So, I have thing for grocery shopping, sue me.
Fruits and vegetables waxed and waned throughout the year. When new season varieties started, I followed the prices as an indicator of when the season was in full swing and, therefore, the produce was at its sweetest and largest. Right now, there was a box of purple figs calling my name.
"Ashley?"
I turned to the left to see … Blair. Oh my god! That wasn't my first thought, the first thing in my head before I recognised her was that her trolley was annoyingly in my way. It was that, and then, her.
Blair, the sexy autumn red rust auburn haired sexy ex-girlfriend of mine. She was still a vision.
"Hi!" I squeaked out. Then, in the blink of an eye - slow blink for lesbians but unnoticed by the rest of the world - I took in her ringless fourth finger, her curvy breasts, shoulder length rich thick hair and finally, brown loafers on her feet.
"You look wonderful." I gushed. Yeah, Blair was that kind of woman.
She laughed, showing even teeth I would have killed for. "You too."
I shoved the bridge of my glasses up then grimaced at my dusty fingers. Digging in my pocket for a tissue so I wouldn't have to look at her, I said, "How are you? I didn't recognise you for a second even though you look the same." I lied, she looked even better.
"I'm good. It's been years." She was still smiling and looking me up and down, her eyes flicking about in a friendly way. She has such a beautiful smile, and a gorgeous line dimple that made me swoon.
"Yes, it has. So," I was a bit stumped. "Do you shop here often?"
"I will from now on." Was she grinning? Was she ever such a happy person?
"Yes, this is a great place. They have a deli section too. I like the fresh produce but I think the deli is a bit expensive." I was blabbering.
"Thanks for the tip. I just moved here about a month ago and I'm still learning the ins and outs of the 'burb." She pointed her chin at my basket, "I see you still like to shop."
"Oh, yeah. You know me," I shrugged, slightly embarrassed. "Well, welcome to the area, and if you need any help I'll be here for a while." I started to step away.
Her smile faltered and I thought her eyebrows frowned for a second. "Right."
"It was good to see you, Blair." I smiled and waved before scooting off.
I wandered every single aisle in the store. It was something I loved to do. Retail therapy could have used me as a poster child but today, I couldn't seem to lose myself in the exotic displays. Standing in front of the balsamic vinegar section I cursed the small selection. Didn't they know I liked to compare more than eight kinds? And why did four of them come from Modena but were priced differently? Did Blair think I shopped too much? Why didn't I see what she was buying? Geez, she looked good in the figure-hugging thin red sweater and jeans. So simple, so babelicious.
I pouted at my dirty sneakers. Don't worry, boys. I still like you. Wiggling my toes to make the canvas move, I marvelled at their comfiness, and frowned when I spotted a bit of fraying. Darn it.
I sensed another shopper next to me and looked up straight ahead at the shelves. A waft of light perfume slowly moved into range and she said, "Only eight brands. Which would you recommend?"
I swallowed and shifted a half step, "That depends what you use it for."
If Blair noticed my move, she didn't show it. Choosing a bottle, she said, "Just for salads, I guess. I don't cook much."
That's when I peeked at her trolley and saw the kind of stuff an empty larder would need. Not much but enough of the cooking basics, and a lot of canned food and some frozen dinners.
"Looks like it." I smiled.
She glanced at my full basket. "Shouldn't you be the one with a trolley?"
I shook my head. "No, this way I won't overindulge. Besides, cooking for one means I don't have much to buy."
"So, why not buy take out or instant meals?"
I opened my mouth to start a spiel about bad eating habits when I saw the twinkle in her eye. Giving her a knowing look, I said, "Just for that, you won't be getting any of my famous dinners."
"Oh no, not that! You must feed me, you just have to!" She begged before bursting out laughing. I couldn't help myself, she made me laugh too. Blair knew all about my kitchen experiments, she was an early guinea pig for my efforts. It was the one hobby I continued to develop after we broke up. I did wonder if my cooking had anything to do with it. Guess it didn't.
I lightly punched her arm. Solid.
"You stinker." I said, still grinning.
"You should've seen your face, Ash."
"Yeah, yeah."
We chatted for the rest of the time in the store, accompanying each other as we filled our lists. Well, she had a list, I just bought what I fancied.
When I drove home, I was still smiling. It had been a fun evening with a great woman who knew me well. Maybe I'll bump into her next week.
I did see Blair the following Thursday in the Shopping Village. I was following behind a very slow person when she fell into step next to me.
"Hi."
"Hey, you." I returned, not minding the slow pace now.
"Which shop are we hitting first?" she rubbed her palms in glee. I automatically checked her out. She was dressed in faded blue jeans, red sneakers and a v-neck shirt. God, I had a thing for v-necks. They didn't look good on me but they seemed to mould to her body. I couldn't help admiring the heavy shape of her breast and her flat tummy. I wondered if she still wore those half-cup French bras ….
The glint off the thin gold necklace resting languidly on her clavicle brought me back to her question. "Well, I usually do the fresh stuff last so they don't sit in my basket, but if I'm late all the best picks will be gone. Why don't you decide?"
Blair stopped to tug and manoeuvre a trolley. She grunted an assent. I picked up a basket and followed her. Yes, she had a great ass.
For a person who didn't cook, Blair sure bought a lot of stuff. I told her so and she merely cocked an eyebrow at me. Before I knew it, two hours had passed and my feet were telling me to go home. I was also yawning.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to keep you." Blair was quite contrite. I couldn't shrug as my hands were laden with bags where we stood loading her car. The whole watermelon she had bought was really challenging my forearm.
"You didn't. I was happy to help." It was true.
Pulling the back door closed, she asked, "Would you like to go out sometime? You've been so helpful it's the least I could do." She was looking at where she brushed her hands on her jeans. "And since I'm new here, you get to choose where we go."
How could I refuse? Besides I was dying to know what had happened in the years since we split. "You don't have to, really." I didn't like the idea of her owing me. "After all, what are friends for, right?"
"Still, you didn't have to. You know how some lesbians are with their exes." She said shyly. "I wasn't sure if we were still OK." She gummed her lips in a look of uncertainty which was just too cute. It was the first mention of our previous relationship, one I had settled long ago. I felt it was important for her to know that.
"'Course we're OK. Eleven years is a long time to hold a grudge. Not that I did." I hurried to add.
"So, Saturday?"
"Yep."
Lennie was waiting for me at the coffeeshop on Sunday morning. I was still groggy and only interested in a strong long black. Lennie does not get out of bed early on the weekend unless she is coming in from a long night or having sex.
"Yo, Ash." She shouted over the noise of the milk steamer and bean grinder.
I slid my butt over the booth seat and yawned widely.
"Jeez." She waved a hand in front of her face.
Wiping the tears from my eyes, I asked, "Why am I here at 8am?"
"Don't you like coffee with your breakfast?"
"Don't be a smartarse. Just get me a long black."
After some pastry and half a cup of coffee, I was more human, an irritable sleepy human waking up fast.
"Did you take a look at the stuff in the mags?" she asked straightforwardly.
"Yeah." I wasn't giving her the satisfaction of being right. Nobody was going to crow over me before noon on a Sunday.
"And?" she prodded.
"And what?"
"Did you like the ones I picked?"
I took my time clearing the crumbs on the table and wiping my hands. "No." Actually, there were a couple of good ads but I wasn't the sort who answered those things!
Lennie looked thoughtful, then, she reached down and lifted up a few magazines onto the table. "That's cool. I've got more. You can pick ‘em this time."
Out-manoeuvred by a kid.
Scurrying home with my homework, I did notice that it was a lovely sunny day. Shame that I usually wasted it at home. I wondered if Blair was up yet?
We had planned to meet at the mall yesterday. I had chosen the venue but forgot to mention the exact location. Luckily, Blair found her way to the fountain. I was starting to panic at my omission, and mentally kicking myself, when she strode up confidently.
"Hey, you found it!" I was so relieved.
"Yes, I found you." She smiled brilliantly. I just knew she was amused at my anxious state. Ex-girlfriends have special insight and apparently, Blair could easily read my movements. Fine.
I lead her out of the mall, much to her surprise. We crossed the road where I pointed out the odd shops still keeping the eccentric charm of the area. We wandered up and down the strip. Blair was quite eager to explore every little shop but I saved the best for last.
On a side street, I dragged her into a small entrance that opened up to a warehouse, a book warehouse. Her eyes widened at the overflowing rows and shelves. It was a mess to me but treasure could be found if one had patience, and a high tolerance for dust. I wasn't keen about the haphazard collection – where the shelves were full, books were stacked on the floor – but I knew Blair would love it.
She gave me a delighted look and I lost her for an hour after that.
Way back in a corner on the second floor, I was peering at the dubious ‘Lifestyle' section because I knew a category like that would cover alternative publications. I really hated it when I had to hunt for lesbian literature but this place was a really old warehouse. I wondered how they kept inventory, or even if they had one.
My footsteps made the floorboards creak. There was hardly anyone near this section. I was getting a crick in my neck from reading the sideway spines when I sensed her before her quiet walk lead her to me.
"I thought I'd find you here." She beamed.
I plucked a cobweb from her hair. "There's not much to look at. The books are on social commentary and depressing." My eyes were itching from the dust but I still wanted to search the shelves for a good book.
"Ashley, your eyes are red. I think we should go."
Oh, she used my full name - that meant she was serious. I gave in.
We decided on a late lunch, Blair insisted on paying even though I argued for Dutch. She just ignored my protests and signed the credit card bill. It was a good thing one of us could see, my eyes were really starting to bother me.
Blair fussed over them and offered to get me some eye drops. She ran into a pharmacy then sat me down in quiet corner away from human traffic. It felt odd to have someone else care so much about me and I didn't know where to tuck my displaced independence.
"Put your head back." She tilted my chin up gently and took off my glasses. My sight instantly blurred and I started to frown.
"I've placed them next to you." She assured me when I tensed. I blinked out of focus, unused to the loss of weight.
My legs parted for her to step in closer. Blair's cool fingers held my eyelids open and I could see her face clearer as she leaned in. Her warm breath fanned my cheek and I could smell the berries she had eaten and the sexy perfumy musk that was all hers.
I sat up a little straighter and concentrated on her breathing. The intimacy of our near-kissing position sent tingles all over my body and I wanted badly to complete the move. I wanted to know how she tasted and if she would let my tongue play inside her hot …
"Ow!" That hurt. I felt liquid roll down my face and I blinked rapidly in reflex.
Blair waited for me to stop blinking, then, she repeated the procedure for both eyes. Sniffling, I wiped my tears. "Thanks."
"You're welcome." She was still breathing on my lips. "Does it feel better?"
"Yes." I croaked out. It felt damn good to have her so close. Our shirts brushed a few times when she leaned over me and my hands had clutched her waist during the procedure. My thumb stroked the top of her jeans, feeling the edge of the material where it dipped into her hips but she didn't move away. I was aware that only a layer of clothing kept me from touching her skin.
My vision had a moment of clarity when the drops acted as a magnifier. I tilted my head further back, stretching my neck, so I could look into her eyes. The flecks of green in the almost black pupils were so familiar I shivered. I had seen those eyes dark with arousal, and flash green fire when angry.
I hope she didn't see the longing in mine.
Then, my sight blurred again and she stepped back, presumably so I could clean up and orient myself. My nipples needed a bit of talking down too. After I wore my glasses, I saw her standing a few feet away with her arms crossed tight over her chest and her chin resting on one hand.
From then on, Blair acted subdued. I thought we had had a great time but she now seemed more polite than friendly. I knew I had done something to change the mood but I couldn't apologise if I didn't know what was wrong. Scanning through the afternoon's activities, I concluded that I had to cut off my offending thumb.
Before we parted, I tried to make amends. "I had a great time today, Blair. Thanks for asking me out."
"You did? I mean, I did too. Thanks for showing me around your secret spots. I know it must've been a pain to play tour guide." She said ruefully.
"Nah, I enjoyed it. It's been a while since I took the time to just wander about." It was a white lie but she didn't need to know that.
"So."
"So."
"See you Thursday?" I hoped.
She gave me a big, happy smile. "Yeah."
As I walked away, running feet thundered behind me. Turning back, I saw Blair bound up to take my hand and press something into it. "It's my phone number," she said before leaving in the opposite direction. My hand was tingling, and I could still feel the trail of her fingers. Looks like I could keep that thumb after all.
It was becoming a platonic affair. We would meet twice a week in public places, talk on the phone nearly everyday – short conversations followed by longer ones at night – but we hadn't been to each other's homes.
Then one night, Blair decided to come over - she said she was hungry. I spent two days preparing, one for planning and the other for cooking. The oysters were already chilling in the fridge. No, I did not have any motives except having them as a refreshing entrée. The fish was ready for grilling and the potatoes tossed and warming in the oven.
I had rushed home after work and last minute shopping, which didn't leave time for a shower. Good thing I opted for an easy menu. The intercom rang when I was mixing the ginger and spring onion dressing for the oysters. I met Blair at the door with one finger held out. It was my tasting finger.
She greeted me with a hug and peck on the cheek before handing over a bottle of wine. "Is that for me?" she grinned at my finger.
I rolled my eyes at her and sucked the finger back into my mouth. See, she liked teasing me with flirtatious one-liners. Luckily, I knew not to take her seriously. But the wine looked good.
Thinking about how the wine will match the food, I don't see Blair's gaze stuck on my finger where my tongue is playing with it. Her eyes then follow my hips as I lead the way inside.
I was feeling overdressed in my blouse and skirt while she was all freshly showered. She had had her hair trimmed on the weekend and she looked extra good. Man, I was so gone on her.
Pouring the wine, I asked, "Are you hungry yet?"
Her husky, "Yes," meant I shouldn't delay dinner.
She loved the oysters. Watching her down the half dozen shooters made me squirm. The smooth action of her throat gave me naughty thoughts about what else she could swallow - mainly me.
We chatted in the kitchen, about work and stuff, where she watched me grill the fish and warm the potatoes. Blair had transferred to a university nearby that was using a software programme she had developed for research purposes. She had a couple of new ideas in mind already. We started on the next bottle of wine by the time the main was ready.
Dinner was slow and relaxing. I couldn't remember when I had spent a more enjoyable evening with another person in my home. Even the teasing about our earlier relationship and other girlfriends didn't bother me. I was just happy to have her here, with me, single.
In line with the idea of girlfriends, I brought out the magazines Lennie had given me and showed them to Blair. We laughed at the ones Lennie circled. Then, she asked, "Which ones do you like?"
Blushing, I pointed them out. Blair read some passages and made funny faces at my choices.
"Girl visiting from London looking for femme to party and shag. No relationships please."
"40s professor type seeking a naughty schoolgirl to discipline."
I made a grab for that one but Blair backed off her chair and kept reading.
"Serious mum WLTM financially independent woman. Must like kids."
Now, I knew she was kidding me with the ones I didn't choose, so, I sat twirling my glass and let her make fun of the ads.
She paced around my apartment, giggling with her nose stuck between the pages. I cleaned up the table. "Blair, can I leave you for a while? I'm going to have a quick shower before dessert."
"Yep, sure, honey." That girl, I shook my head.
The shower wasn't as fast as I could have made it. It was warm in there, and the four glasses of wine had gone to my head. I almost dozed.
Roughly towelling my short hair dry, I dressed in a singlet, one I would sleep in later, and a sarong. It was a very casual ensemble but Blair had seen me in less, I wasn't concerned. Still tipsy and a bit sleepy, I decided to forgo underclothes.
Blair was looking through my photo albums when I came out. "There's one of you with mullet hair." I teased.
"I'm surprised you kept my pictures," she murmured. Shrugging, I sat next to her on the floor. "Why wouldn't I? You were an important part of my life." She just nodded.
Seeing that she was still engrossed, I pottered in the kitchen and started the dishwasher before plating the cheesecake. Deciding to end the night on a sweet note, I poured us a generous thimble of Tia Maria each.
Blair had finished with the photos when I served dessert. We stretched out on the floor, leaning against the sofa, and appreciated the creaminess of the cheesecake and the fragrance of the liqueur. I scrapped off half the mixture on my slice as I preferred the base. Blair reached over and helped herself to the top half I discarded and exchanged it with part of her base.
I smiled at her and proceeded to use my fingers to eat the crumbly section. Yum! Her fork clattered off her plate and I immediately gave her mine. She refused, instead, sticking her finger into the creamy lump and licking the rich yellow blend. My eyes followed that finger, envious of the places it could go.
Blair offered me a coated digit. I closed my eyes to savour the texture of her finger more than the dessert. If I concentrated hard enough, I swore I could taste her. Her mouth then lightly replaced her finger, scooping a gentle kiss.
That night, I dreamed about thick cream and fingers and a lot of licking.
Other nights, I would come to dream about fruits and vegetables or whatever Blair and I shopped for. There was always a woman in my dream, I couldn't see her clearly, only her naked body and dark red hair. It got me so tight with excitement that I stopped dreading it and wondered where my dreams would lead to each time.
I didn't tell Blair about my dreams, even though we were close friends now, because I knew whom it was I wanted in them – if only I could see her face to be sure.
Lennie managed to wrangle the story from me, though. I was sick of her bragging and I wanted to shock her image of me as a boring geek. Instead, she interpreted them to mean that there was someone out there just waiting for me to see them. I saw plenty of ‘the someone' I wanted but Blair wasn't taking any steps closer to my bedroom.
"Here, tomorrow we are putting this in." Lennie pushed a napkin towards me. It looked like she had written an ad.
"What are you selling?"
She snickered, "It's not for me."
I turned it around and read ‘35y.o. mature professional single woman WLTM same. Enjoys cooking, lesbian fiction and wet dreams.'
"You nut!" I tossed the crumpled paper at her.
From then on, when I dreamed about my lover, she was Blair. It felt right to be with her. Her face was always open and joyous in my dream, and the erotic images were certainly having an effect. Somehow, it didn't feel wrong to fantasise about Blair when I touched myself.
But petting the beaver alone or only in my dreams pales to the needs of the body for someone to do those things with. So, that's why I was meeting a blind date in this bar. Lennie had placed the ad and it would run for three weeks. There were dozens of men and women here during happy hour. I'm sure it's safe.
Famous last words. The first respondent was a man. I didn't even wait for a drink. The second was a nice woman - she didn't seem threatening, only drowning me with hot looks and freely touching hands. I think a second date is a possibility. Ditto with the next person. Sally was a funny and talkative woman who made me laugh a lot. GSOH indeed!
Of course, all these appointments meant I had to cancel a few with Blair. On our weekly shopping spree, she asked and I told her.
"You're meeting blind dates?" she scowled.
"Only at first," I cringed at the term. "By the end of the evening, I think we're new friends."
"Yeah, friends." she muttered.
"It's not like I have women beating down my door or anything." I defended hotly.
"I'M at your door." She stated.
"Well yeah, but you're my ex, and a friend, … and we hang out." I was puzzled. Shouldn't she be happy for me? After all, I didn't tell her who she could date. Besides, her karma would be a lot lighter without me lusting after her in my dreams.
She gave me an incredulous look and shook her head, "You can be so dense, Ashley."
It was a quiet shopping trip.
That night, I couldn't see my dream lover's face and I felt an inexplicable loss.
On my next date with Sally, I told her about my dream. She listened attentively, then smacked me with the words, "You already know who it is. Now, you have to catch her before she disappears from your life."
I stared at her, afraid of my own thoughts. She nodded knowingly.
I spent the whole weekend thinking about her words and the effect of my dream. I was scared that it could be Blair, and terrified if I was wrong.
Since the gentle kiss, nothing physical had happened between us. No kisses, no more hugs even. But my imagination had flourished with the possibilities.
Perhaps I needed another kiss to be sure.
I had a blind date on Sunday. It was a good evening for me as it had a limited lifespan and was usually quiet enough to talk. As I dressed, I knew this would be the final one. The experiment was a success but I needed to think hard about what I wanted. Some risks had paid off. Did I dare take the next step with Blair?
The Italian restaurant was quiet, only a few tables were occupied and bored waiters, I knew, would jump to assist me if I needed help. Pressed slacks and a white shirt under a black jacket made me look confident. I don't know why but I felt like projecting a tough image tonight.
I had barely checked the breadsticks when she strode up to my table and sat in the chair across from me.
"Blair!" Was she having dinner here too? I looked from her to the door, back and forth. There was no one else waiting to be seated.
My waiter rushed over and Blair ordered something.
"Um, Blair? I'm meeting someone." I worried there might be a scene with Ms Date if she caught me with my good-looking ex.
The corners of her mouth lifted slightly, "Yes, I know."
I laughed at her bravado. "I don't know if she'll mind a threesome."
"I certainly would." She was still looking at me seriously.
"I'm sorry, what?" This was getting weirder by the second. A bottle of wine arrived but no one else did.
Glancing pointedly at the hovering waiter, she dismissed him with a shake of her head. Then, she took my hand and stood up. "There's something I have to show you."
"Wait, I can't leave. There's someone coming for me," I looked at my watch, "and they're late."
Blair sighed, "There isn't anyone else coming to meet you, Ash."
"How do you know? What's going on?" Oh, this was bad. Not that I'd been stood up but what if something horrible had happened to Ms Date. Blair's hand held mine reassuringly.
"Nothing. I promise to explain everything if you'll just come with me." She placed some money on the table, grabbed the bottle with one hand and led me out with the other.
We walked the block and a half to her apartment in silence. Blair looked so serious.
I stood nervously in the middle of her apartment as she clinked about in the kitchen. Oh yeah, I could really use a drink now.
I turned round to see her striding out straight towards me, her hands were empty but her eyes flashed with dark fire. I lifted my head to meet her challenge but her grip on my arms startled me. The lady had been working out.
Then, she was kissing me. Kissing me so hard my mouth opened to take her in. I was helpless beneath her onslaught. My body was captured but my responses were not. No woman, even if she was my hot ex-girlfriend who filled my dreams and made me want her to fuck me senseless, was going to call the shots on my blind date.
So, I started kissing her back. Using my lips and tongue and breasts to press her backwards until she hit the wall. My hands tugged her shirt from her pants so they could slide underneath to cup her breasts. Oh, I could feel lace.
Distracted by what lay under my palms, Blair turned us around until I was sandwiched between her and the wall. We were still kissing furiously, saying with our tongues what we would later do to other parts. One of her hands cupped the back of my head and the other was rubbing between my legs. I drew the pads of my thumb hard across her nipples and felt them grow. We were breathing harshly, like animals in heat.
Somehow, we made our way into the bedroom and shed our clothes hastily. Her kiss had ignited my pent-up needs and I was going to make all my dreams of her come true tonight.
Much later, when we had a moment, I asked, "What did you want to show me?"
A laugh rumbled in her chest as she placed a kiss on my shoulder. "Believe me, I didn't plan this," She lifted her head, "I was your blind date."
"What, but how?"
"Your ad. Even if you hadn't chosen to reply I would have pinned you down eventually."
I looked at our current positions with Blair lying on top. "I'd say you've done that already."
She gazed adoringly into my eyes, "I'm afraid I gave you a hickey, or two."
"That's okay, honey, cause you've got a few of my love bites too," I said as I started nuzzling her neck.
That thing she wanted to show me? It was her photo album of my pictures. I'm happy to say that our albums have combined and grown since then.
The end.