The Model gives the green light – Monday evening

I got to Gloucester Road early and scouted out the area for somewhere classy to eat and found a place that I would take The Model to. What I really wanted was to take her to bed and eat her, but I had to play it cool and be patient. We had swapped a few emails and a phone-call during the week. She seemed more upbeat than our last disastrous date so I was looking forward to this encounter, not just because I wanted to see her and get to know her better, but also because there was something I wanted to put to her.

We met punctually outside the Tube station and The Model was smiley. I kissed her ‘hello’ on the lips which made her smile more. She wasn’t hungry, so we went for a walk around the area, passing the famous museums that millions of tourists from all over the planet come to visit. Nothing in them were as attractive to me as The Model.

We held hands as we walked and talked. Amongst other things, I asked about her friend’s break-up situation and about her weekend with her mother, but details were a little sketchy.

Having walked up an appetite I led her to the restaurant that I had chosen. It was called “The Green Door Steakhouse” and offered a varied menu promising high quality food. Naturally it was pricey, but I was starting my new job the next day. I don’t mind wining and dining a woman as I think it’s romantic.

It didn’t take too long before conversation between us reverted to its familiar stale format. She kept talking about her previous boyfriend. I didn’t pre-empt it, she let her mind wander over to it. Once she had latched on to that, it seemed as if nothing I said or did was good enough. Sitting at the table I realised that once her head was filled with thoughts of ‘him’ that she entered a very dark, lonely place in her psyche…and that the rest of the date was fucked. Lesson learnt.

“I have something to suggest to you,” I began, trying to distract her, get her back to reality, back to me.

“Yes?” she said cautiously.

“A circus is coming to a nearby town this coming Saturday. Would you like to join me?”

“That could be fun, darling.”

“Great. It’s in the late afternoon, so if you get to me by lunch, I’ll cook for us,” I said, trying to hide my excitement.

“I’d love that. I like it when a man cooks for me,” she beamed. Distraction successful.

After the meal and some positive conversation, I walked her to her car and we stood alongside it and kissed for ages. She felt so good to hold and her lips were exquisitely soft. Our kisses grew more intense and passionate. Our tongues touched and teased each other. Unsurprisingly after several minutes of this I got a hard-on. If one of us lived nearby, we would have gone to bed that night.

The Model broke contact and said with a smile and sparkling eyes, “Okay mister, I’ll see you Saturday lunchtime. Have a good first week back at work,” and like that she got in her car and drove off into the night.

I felt that I now had a green light to get intimate with her. Perhaps if we connected physically then a proper relationship would follow? Who knows, with a little bit of time, love even? The love I wanted and deserved?

Saturday couldn’t come soon enough…

The Model and I walk…and walk – Friday 28th September

I arrived at Clapham Junction, the busiest train station in the UK, on the Friday afternoon as the manic London rush-hour was in full swing. I could feel eyes watching me through the crowds as I exited the turnstiles. I looked up to see the perfect face of The Model.

Her bright blue eyes, shoulder-length wavy natural blonde hair, sparkling white smile, cute dimples…sigh. I can’t resist a good-looking woman and my normally steely character softens around one, but I’m aware of this and battle against it within myself. I was in for one helluva battle with her.

I kissed her politely on the cheek, trying to hide my awe of her beauty, but I guess she was used to men fawning over her and probably thought that’s how life was for everybody. Our reservation was at 6pm at a local rodizio. (If you don’t know what a rodizio is, it is a Brazilian steak-house where you sit at a table and the waiting staff come around endlessly with skewers of fifteen different types of meat.)

We had an hour to kill, so we walked around the area for a while and ended up in a coffee shop, sitting side by side on a sofa, talking about all sorts of stuff. She liked the sound of her own voice and I was happy to just nod occasionally and make approving sounds. She may as well have been talking a foreign language because I couldn’t help but slip into a trance-like state and just marvel at her beauty. A little bit of saliva might have dribbled down my chin and I wouldn’t have noticed it.

At the restaurant she revealed a hearty appetite and could almost keep up with me. She must have had a fast metabolism like mine to keep her body as trim as it was. I think most women experience the phenomenon whereby their weight gain goes to their hips. With the The Model it seemed to go to her breasts. On our first date and this date she was wearing a black shawl, but it didn’t really disguise the fact that she was smuggling midgets under there.

She bemoaned the fact that the venue for her conference during the week had bad air conditioning and it had given her chapped lips. I had to resist the urge to offer to moisturise them with my lips and tongue. By now I was wondering what it would be like to kiss her; really kiss her. When and where? I had to be alive to the opportunity. Before this night was out I just had to kiss her.

Then she told me something that I found surprising and that didn’t sit too well with me. That afternoon she had had some botox injections in her forehead. She was very self-conscious about them and I wouldn’t have noticed if she hadn’t pointed them out. I prefer a natural beauty, but it seemed that The Model had got to a point in life where she feared that her looks were starting to fade.

After dinner we went for a walk along the Thames. I took the opportunity to hold her hand and she smiled when I did so. We found ourselves sitting on a bench next to the river, admiring the stars in the inky cloudless sky. A cold wind started coming off the river, so I sat closer and put my arm around her. She relaxed and leaned against me, her head resting on my shoulder. It felt good.

It felt physically good. Our bodies were a good match. However, on the emotional side, things weren’t as good. I was very aware and uncomfortable at times with her calling me all sorts of pet names and acting as if we had been together forever. It felt like she was behaving how she had been used to with her previous boyfriend. She kept bringing up the topic of “him” and what had happened between them. I was starting to feel like a substitute for what she had lost and her words and actions that were familiar to her made it all feel normal to her. It didn’t feel normal to me. It felt very unnatural and awkward at times. I concluded that she was badly on the rebound. Any minute now she was going to call me by another guy’s name.

I put those reservations aside and saw the opportunity that I had been waiting for. Sitting next to the Thames, starry sky above, arm around her…perfect.

I lifted her chin, looked her in the eye and casually leaned forward to kiss her. I went in as slowly and gently as I could, to make it memorable for both of us and un-scary for her. Our lips touched gently and she took a deep breath. I could feel her body rise against mine. She let out a breath through her nose as we kissed and she kept her eyes closed.

We kissed for only a few seconds, no rapier-like tongue assaulted me and we parted lips. The Model made a “hmm” sound and smiled. We said nothing and she put her head back against my shoulder, her body slouching against mine. She seemed content in that moment. I didn’t know what to do next.

The Model had been fidgeting with her black leather trousers because she had come out to play without a belt for it, thinking it would have been fine. It wasn’t fine, so I took my belt off and before she could say a word, I was running my belt through the hoops on her trousers. At one point we were standing with our hips touching and I imagined what it would feel like to have my arms behind her back and her legs wrapped around my waist. I think she sensed something similar too because she smiled naughtily.

I took it as a chance to hug her. She fitted snugly, with the top of her head resting just under my nose. She felt wonderful. Her boobicles rested nicely against my chest. Sigh.

It was getting late and The Model started to yawn and she excused it by saying that it had been a long, tiring week. I suggested that we call it a night and continue back to the station, homeward bound.

We walked past a television studio building near the south bank of the Thames. The Model said, “I used to work in there once.”

“Oh yeah? What were you doing?” I asked, expecting to hear her talk about some back-office job.

“I presented one of their morning shows. It was good fun,” she said.

“You mean you were on millions of people’s television screens?”

“That’s one way of looking at it. It didn’t feel that way. It was just me, usually a guest and half a dozen crew in a studio, is how it felt.”

“When did you do this?”

“Oh, it was about ten years ago when I was better looking.”

“That’s impossible. You couldn’t have been better looking,” I replied with what was on my mind. She smiled and squeezed my hand.

I realised that the distance back to the station was greater then my tired date (and ex-television celebrity) could bare, so I hailed a black cab. Back at the station she suggested a nightcap so we stopped in at a pub nearby. I took this as a good sign that she wanted to spend more time with me.

Would she invite me to go home with her? I wouldn’t have said ‘no’. I had never felt the urge to get physical with a woman as quickly as I had with her. It went against my better judgement and moral code, but I was prepared to make an exception for her.

We stood drinking and chatting. She liked to talk, especially about her last relationship. She was totally hung up on her ex-boyfriend. I stood there like a smiling idiot, knowing that the prospect of the relationship I was wanted was diminishing as the hours went by. She just wasn’t emotionally healthy, which was a great shame. Was she The One? Doubts were growing. I did want to have my way with her in bed though, but I kept that desire well hidden.

Our goodbye kiss for the evening happened in the busy tunnels under Clapham Junction station. We kissed sufficiently well, I thought. Our last trains were approaching as we stood on separate platforms. For some reason she chose not to face me, which struck me as a little odd. She knew that I was there. The Model made for a lonely, sad figure on her platform. I felt a little sorry for her because she was so emotionally mixed up. I wasn’t sure that even if she was relationship-ready that we were right for each other. My train arrived and whisked me away from her.

At 11.06pm she sent me the following text message while she was on her train speeding away from the capital:
Thank you my darling! Scabby lips, dodgy forehead and tired…will anything put you off??? Lol. Wonderful evening again…Your a true gent and I really like your company! Xxxxx ps, I still have ur belt tut!! Xxx

Monday – The Perfect Dick – Final part

“No, nobody could see. I put my hand in her panties and felt her pubic hair. I had never done this before. By now I also had a massive hard-on. This girl just kept looking straight in front of her, as did I. My fingers pushed down and I slid my middle finger up her. She jolted slightly. I had no idea what I was doing. Just then the bell went for break-time. Everybody stood up to leave and I had to hide my erection with my school blazer.”

“You were literally saved by the bell. But what happened?”

“She followed me home after school. I lived near the school and my mother was at work. I let her in and we stood in the lounge talking. I hadn’t spoken to her much in our school days. It was always a friend-of-a-friend kind of thing. In a moment of daring-do, I kissed her. Now this will surprise you, but I had never kissed a girl before.”

“What?! No, I don’t believe you,” Baltic Babe said in all seriousness.

“It’s true, I hadn’t. This girl then put her tongue in my mouth. I didn’t know what that was and I got a fright, lost my balance and knocked her over on to a chair. I don’t know why I did this, but I picked her up and carried her to my bedroom where I gently lowered her on to my bed. I was curious to see how far she would let me go with her. I took her school dress off and she lay there in her underwear smiling at me, daring me, while I stood there in my school uniform. Without taking any of my clothes off, I stood at the foot of the bed and pulled her panties off. I expected her to shriek and run away. She didn’t, she opened her legs. I had never seen a pussy in real life before, so I took a good look. Most of my sex education had come from Cosmopolitan magazine. In the heat of the moment, without much thinking involved, I lay down on my stomach and started licking her pussy. I had never ever felt a desire to do that, but in that moment it seemed like the right thing to do.”

“This was your first time in so many ways and you did that? I don’t believe you,” Baltic Babe interrupted. I ignored her interruption and bloody trust issues and continued with the true account of my first time.

“This girl wriggled and writhed and enjoyed me eating her out. I didn’t really know where her clitoris was. As you can imagine I had a huge hard-on. I reached up with a free hand and slipped my hand under her back, trying to unclasp her bra. The girl laughed at me and unclipped her bra which had its clasp at the front. I didn’t even know such bras existed. So there I was, seventeen years old, a naked girl on my bed, me in my school uniform, eating her out while one hand played with her breasts.”

Baltic Babe didn’t know what to say to this, her eyes still wide as she rested her head on the sun-lounger.

“I knew that it was time for me to get undressed, so I did. As I stood there naked, about to climb on top of her as all the magazines suggested, the girl wriggled towards me and sat on the end of the bed. She grabbed my cock with one hand, looked me in the eye and then leaned forward and started sucking on it. I had never felt this before and my knees nearly gave way.”

Baltic Babe giggled. What was her deal with blowjobs, I wondered, seeing as she refused to go down on me.

“She seemed to enjoy sucking and licking and I didn’t mind. After a minute she crawled backwards on to the bed and spread her legs, deftly resting her arms above her head on my pillow. I had no intention to take things this far. If I didn’t follow through I’d be the laughing stock of the school, was my fear. So I climbed on top of her and tried to find her hole, but couldn’t because I didn’t know , so she used a hand to guide me in. I had never felt anything like it in my life. To this day I don’t know how I didn’t cum within seconds.”

Baltic Babe burst out laughing. Did an ex-boyfriend of hers have a premature ejaculation problem, I wondered.

“But wait, there’s more. So I fucked her for what must have been many minutes. I kept looking at her face. Her eyes were big and she didn’t say a word. All through this neither of us had said a word. Strange, huh? I didn’t know what was going on, but she started breathing heavily and wrapped her arms and legs around me and her body shook as she scratched my back with her nails. Jesus that hurt. Afterwards I saw that she had drawn blood.”

“You gave a girl an orgasm on your first time?” Baltic Babe asked.

“Well, I know that now, but at the time I wasn’t too sure what had happened. The whole time that I was in her I had my mother’s words in my head, “I don’t want another girl’s mother coming to me to tell me you had got her daughter pregnant,”. I wasn’t using a condom, I had never even seen one then and I didn’t want to get her pregnant, so I withdrew. She asked what was wrong and I told her that I didn’t want to get her pregnant. She said, “okay, I understand” and pushed me on to my back and very eagerly sucked me off, happily swallowing my cum. I was in a state of shock for days afterwards.”

“Did you see her again?”

“Yes, we started a relationship that lasted for six months. Our final exams happened over that time; how we passed I don’t know. In the mornings she would wait outside my place before school until my mother went to work, then we’d have a morning session. Then in the middle of the day when it was break-time at school we’d go back to my place and have another session. Then after school, if neither of us had sport, then we’d have another session. The relationship was based entirely on sex, but at the time I thought it was love. I still think of her as my first love.”

“That’s quite a sweet story,” Baltic Babe said softly.

That night, our last in Sunny Beach, we found ourselves sitting in a cocktail bar watching the waitresses dancing on the counter. In a fit of twisted romanticism, I turned to Baltic Babe and said, “I don’t know all the bad things that have happened in your life, but I am glad that they have happened because they have helped make who you are and I really like who you are.”

Baltic Babe did not like that comment…

Monday – The perfect dick

“That is the perfect dick,” Baltic Babe said, holding my cock erect at the base of the shaft, having pulled my foreskin back. She took quite a few seconds to look at it, seemingly taking in every detail, still refusing to put her mouth anywhere near it.

It was flattering to hear, but it wasn’t new to me. All my three previous lovers have said pretty much the same thing. Perhaps it’s something that women are taught to say, by some secret club, book or magazine, so as to mess with their man’s mind?

It was Monday morning and we had finished making love a little while earlier. I had made her cum twice; once by g-spot and once by deep dicking. I had recharged and was ready to go again, but Baltic Babe wasn’t in the mood, was hungry and wanted to get to the beach. I guess two orgasms was all she needed…or could handle?

The beach was noticeably empty. It must have been changeover day for the package tourists. It felt like we had the Black Sea to ourselves. The conversation rolled easily and pleasantly, punctuated by her laugh as I found the humour in something and ripped it to pieces. Still in a frisky frame of mind, I was curious about something.

“Do you remember your first time?” I asked, knowing that everyone does.

“Yes, I was seventeen.”

“What happened?”

“He was was my skating partner and two years older. We had been boyfriend and girlfriend for almost two years. He wanted to go all the way, but neither of knew exactly what was involved. In the Soviet schooling system we didn’t get sex education like children do in the West.”

“So what did you do?”

“Somehow I found a book, from a library I think, that had words and drawings in it.”

“Drawing? Not photos?”

“No, photos would have made it pornography and that was illegal,” she said.

“Interesting, tell me more,” I coaxed. I loved getting insights in to what it was like living under the Soviet system.

“We were at his place and in his bedroom. His parents were away for the day, so we could take our time. We lay on his bed and I propped the book against the wall next to us. I made sure that we followed the process step by step.”

“So you had sex by the book?” I burst out laughing. Baltic Babe saw the funny side too.

“Your turn. What was your first time like?”

“Mine was quite sweet and unplanned really. Not like yours, Mein Fuhrer.”

Her face drooped. Baltic Babe didn’t appreciate the Mein Fuhrer reference. Her grandmother had been in a Nazi concentration camp during the war. It was careless of me. Before she could get upset and angry, I continued.

“We weren’t boyfriend and girlfriend. It was the last year of high school and we were both turning eighteen in the next couple of months. I didn’t have a girlfriend and wasn’t looking for one either. I was going to school four days a week and the other days working in a scrap metal yard to get money. Because of my being in the adult working world early after my father’s death when I was fourteen, all the other kids seemed so immature.”

“I know what you mean. My ice-skating got me into the adult world early too,” she chimed in.

“We were in the back of the classroom, sitting close to each other, during a history lesson. I had thought her cute, but she had been seeing another boy. I knew that they had recently split up. She kept knocking my knee with hers and it was irritating me. I told her to stop it. She said “What you going to do if I don’t?” and I can’t refuse a dare. I said to her, “If you don’t stop, I’ll help you keep your knees together by fingering you”. I had never touched a grown girl between the legs. I thought I would scare her. She seemed so sweet and innocent.”

“She kept going didn’t she?”

“Uh-huh. So I slid my hand up her skirt, thinking she’d recoil. She didn’t, instead she just froze. Deciding to teach her a lesson, I put my hand between her legs, over her panties. To my great surprise, she opened her legs, daring me.”

“Couldn’t other children and the teacher see?” asked Baltic Babe with big eyes.

To be continued…

Date #2 – Sunny Beach, Bulgaria – Monday 27th August – Part 2

“You’ve got it all so wrong. When we’re back home I’ll prove it to you. You are going to apologise to me and you’re going to feel foolish.” This seemed to destroy her sanctimonious attitude and she sat back in her chair, seeming not sure what to say next.

Before either of us could speak again the food and drink arrived. Eating and drinking wasn’t as good as it should have been because of what had just happened between us. Baltic Babe was probably a little confused, while I was angry and stunned. I eventually broke the silence that had shut out the warm air around us.

“Look, we’re here now. I assure you that you have totally the wrong idea about me and I can prove it to you. Until I can, how about we try and enjoy ourselves. Okay?”

Baltic Babe merely nodded in agreement.

With the mood slightly lightened I broached more neutral subjects like the hotels and the scenery we had seen so far. Eventually she started responding, having taken the time to digest what I had said earlier, probably deciding to give me the benefit of the doubt. It wasn’t too long before our normal engaging conversation resumed and she started laughing again. I was glad to hear her laugh; it could only come from deep within her and couldn’t be faked.

After dinner and a brief walk, we ended up back in her hotel room. I fully intended and expected to end up in my room in the hotel next door. I felt the need to calm the waters between us. I have always thought it great relationship practice to never go to sleep angry with your other half.

It was easily after midnight and we were lying on the bed, facing each other. Had my hours of choosing my words carefully settled her troubled mind? There was a surefire way to find out. I leaned forward and brought my lips to within an inch of hers, stopping there to see if she would reciprocate, looking her in the eye. She did and as passionately as ever.

Light petting gave way to heavier petting. I stroked her body and she liked it. Her breathing became heavier and her body shuddered under my slow caressing hand. I slid my hand under her blouse and felt her warm, clammy skin. It felt good. It felt inviting.

All the while kissing, her with her eyes closed, I ran my hand slowly over her stomach. Going down below the belt so soon wasn’t an option, so going up to her breasts was always going to happen. I gently cupped one of her breasts and she let out an approving, satisfied gasp as her tongue left go of my mouth for a moment.

Baltic Babe was getting very turned on and I wasn’t sure where to take this. I had been hoping, expecting to a small degree, that we would make love on this trip. It seemed natural and obvious, but what was she thinking? There was only one way to find out.

I slowly unbuttoned her blouse while her tongue went crazy in my mouth. To an extent she was turning herself on too, doing what she wanted with her tongue. What else could she do with her tongue, I wondered.

The sight of a woman lying with her blouse open, her bra or naked breasts revealed, is something that turns me on. It’s an image of confident, alluring femininity that stirs something within my being. It’s as if she is saying “Here I am, this is me. Take me.”

I took Baltic Babe’s blouse off as it was surplus to requirements. While kissing, our tongues entwined, I slid my hand under her back and fiddled with her bra-clasp. It had been a while since I had done this and it showed. She arched her back so that I could use two hands and eventually it unclipped. I tossed it to the side of the bed and took in the sight of her lying topless before me.

Her breasts were little a-cups, with cute little pink nipples. I would much have preferred a handful, at least c-cups. I obviously couldn’t say anything. What was the point? If you can’t say anything nice, say nothing at all. She lay there looking up at me, me looking up and down her body. She certainly wasn’t overweight and everything was firm. Neither of us said a word, expectation silenced us.

I leaned down and kissed the side of her body, just below where the ribcage ended. She looked up at the ceiling and closed her eyes, swallowing hard. I slowly, gently kissed further up her side, deliberately taking my time. I kissed tenderly to the side of her breast, making sure not to go anywhere near her nipple.

Reaching her armpit, instead of trying to kiss inside it, I carefully lifted her hand to the headboard and kissed above her breast, to the side of her breastbone. Baltic Babe’s breathing was deep and rhythmic, she was very relaxed. I kissed her elbow and slowly worked my way down under her arm towards her armpit. She was starting to make strange purring noises, a bit like a cat does.

I got to her shoulder and kissed along the top of it, her ear, her cheek and under her jawbone, along her neck, down to the centre of her breastbone. With each and every kiss she let out a catlike purr, all the while keeping her eyes closed. I shifted my body to the other side of her, making sure not to accidentally knee her in the groin.

Lying on the other side of her, I repeated what I had just done. Each kiss led to an approving purr. She was like a little kitten in my care and all I wanted to do was please her.

When I got to the centre of her chest again, this time I started kissing her breast, around the nipple, which was erect and hard. I circled my kisses around the nipple before moving across her diminutive cleavage on to the other breast. I kissed around this breast and, after circling the nipple with kisses, lightly kissed the nipple.

This led to a slight convulsion in Baltic Babe’s body, her back arching and the purr becoming more of a guttural exhale, yet she kept her eyes closed. With a little bit more force I sucked her nipple in to my mouth. A more intense purr resulted. I sucked the entire breast into my mouth (it wasn’t difficult to do) and slowly ran my tongue around her breast repeatedly. The purr had become a moan, a very satisfied moan.

I pulled my head back slowly, keeping the nipple in my mouth as long as possible until it popped out. Leaning over to her other breast, I kissed around it again and zeroed in on the nipple this time. Again I sucked the entire breast in to my mouth and slowly ran my tongue around the nipple. Her satisfied moaning and purring was involuntary and it told me that she was enjoying what I was doing to her, for her, with her.

After a little while, not wanting her nipple to become overly sensitive, I let that nipple slip out of my mouth. I looked at Baltic Babe to see the expression on her face. Sensing that the experience had ended, she opened her eyes, looked at me, smiled and said “I don’t normally like having my breasts sucked, but that was very nice.”

Heartened by the compliment, which I also took as encouragement, I ran my warm hands down her body along her legs and slid my hand between her thighs just above the knee.

“No, I don’t think we should go there” came her almost instant response. She pulled herself up away from me and propped herself up against the headboard.

So there I had my answer. She didn’t want to make love. I wasn’t too surprised given the revelations at the start of the evening. I decided not to push for lovemaking. She obviously wasn’t ready and I wanted our first time to be special for both of us. I cooled my ardour and propped myself next to her.

Baltic Babe sat there in her mini-skirt, topless, her pert little nipples tantalisingly close. We sat and chatted, about what I don’t remember. My thoughts drifted off to trying to make sense of the situation that I found myself in. Here I was with someone I was smitten with, but who had some unfortunate trust issues about me. I came to the conclusion that I needed to proceed slowly, very slowly.

It was now 5am and the sun was starting to pinch the horizon. The Black Sea was like a plate of freshly cut glass. The only thing moving was the occasional headlights of cars in the distance across the bay. The quietest time of our day together was indeed just before the dawn.

We cuddled up on the bed and I wrapped my arms around her, keeping her safe and warm. I finally got to feel her fall asleep against me. That moment made the drama of the past hours worthwhile.

Date #3 – Demolition Debbie – Wednesday 1st August

While in Prague it became obvious to me that becoming involved with someone who wants a child was not the right thing for me. I realised that I needed to pursue other dating opportunities. Once back in London, on the Sunday I reviewed emails from dating sites that I was on and came across an email from a profile which seemed interesting. The tone was upbeat, we had things in common, there were several photographs in which she seemed quite attractive and she didn’t want children. The only negatives were that she was 44 and almost six feet tall. Dating an older woman (I was 40) and almost as tall as me would be a novel experience, so I answered her email.

We agreed to meet on the Wednesday at lunchtime in north Clapham. The Northcote Road is a road lined with expensive fashion boutiques, upmarket restaurants and pretentious people. I got there a few minutes early and stood in a doorway as a passing shower wet the snobs. Half an hour after the agreed time, as I was considering calling her, my date sent me an apologetic text message. She had got the details of the meeting point wrong and was in a taxi heading my way. Unimpressed, I texted back that I would get a coffee in a Starbucks because everywhere else was now full.

As I was sipping my latte, comfortably sitting at a table outside, I spied a taxi speeding down the road. Somehow I knew it was her. The cab screeched to a halt in front of me, with frantic activity in the back seat. My date got out of the cab clumsily, almost twisting her ankle in her haste, threw money at the cabbie and righted herself, one foot on the pavement, one foot in the road. “Oh Lordie, what do we have here?” I thought to myself.

She must have felt me looking at her as our eyes met, upon which I had to smile and stand up. She hurried over to me and I politely kissed her hello on a cheek. My first impression? I thought her reasonably attractive and suitably dressed, which meant she did make an effort, just logistics had thrown her off balance.

“Oh, I’m so dreadfully sorry. Terrible mix up with the addresses. All my fault. Please sit, I’ll go get myself a coffee too,” and off she went.

I didn’t get a chance to say a word. She was like a cross between a wrecking ball and a whirlwind. The way she spoke reminded me of Emma Thompson’s character in “Love Actually”. I decided to give her the benefit of the doubt and stayed. Some other men might have seized the opportunity and disappeared before she came back to spill coffee over them.

“There, that’s better,” she said as she sat down next to me with her herbal tea. “How are you?” she asked.

I couldn’t help but let out a caustic response of “Hungry” coupled with a smile. It was now going on for 2pm and I hadn’t eaten since breakfast. I get ratty when hungry.

“Ah, yes. Let’s go do something about that, shall we?” she said patronisingly. Who the hell was this woman? Mary Poppins?

We took our over-priced coffees and walked the length of the Northcote Road until we found a pub that had space for us. She didn’t like the look of the place, so we left. We found another pub that had space. She didn’t like anything on the menu, so we left that one too. She was seriously trying my patience.

Eventually we found another pub which must have been in a new postcode, we had walked for that long. Before she could find fault I said “Gee, this place looks good and there’s lots on the menu. Let’s sit there,” and gestured to an empty table at a window, heading her nit-picking fault-finding off at the pass.

We made polite small talk as we had walked around and continued to do so as we sat at the table. The bad start to the date really hadn’t helped matters because I was a little bit miffed with her. She wasn’t quite done with unsettling me though, as things took another negative turn when she told me that she was still married, having separated from her husband less than a month previously.

“Oh, I assure you that I fully intend initiating divorce proceedings as soon as I have finished unpacking my stuff in my new flat.” she said haughtily and with conviction.

Given her organizational abilities shown so far, that wouldn’t be any time soon then.

My own circumstances weren’t the best either, to be fair. I had physically left my long-term girlfriend only two months earlier, but emotionally much longer than that. I was unemployed and had no job prospects in sight. Money was becoming a worry to me. I was sleeping on my best mate’s sofa, but was moving in to my own place that coming weekend, at least. I wasn’t exactly a prime catch either.

Over lunch we made small talk about the usual shit: work, travel, family and relationships. Oh boy, did she like to talk about relationships. She went in to great detail about her relationship history. It was characterised by her hooking up with some guy quickly, moving in together as quickly as possible, then finding out something that cooled her amour and then she would run away. She had been married for two years. I concluded that it was running away time again.

She didn’t believe me when I answered her questions about my relationship history that I had only been in two relationships; my ex-wife for almost fifteen years and my ex-girlfriend for just over 5 years. This boggled her mind. It was beyond the realms of her experience to imagine what that was like.

I knew then that she wasn’t relationship material. Not only did she seem incapable of sustaining a healthy, loving relationship – the thing I was after – but she was also obviously highly likely to be on the rebound. This woman had some issues when it came to relationships and I didn’t want to be part of her demolition derby. I decided that the date needed to end because I was wasting my time.

Ever the gentleman, I paid for our over-priced lunch, a gesture I could ill-afford, but felt compelled to do nevertheless. I walked with her for about a mile towards where she lived. We chatted amiably enough, but I just wasn’t interested. Once we were near her home we stopped to say goodbye.

I gave her a polite kiss on the cheek, but she just stood there, smiling, unspeaking, unmoving, apparently wanting something. So I leaned in toward her and she came forward and we shared a sweet, gentle kiss. It was the best thing that happened for me on the entire date. Without another word, I walked off.

The next day I phoned her to tell her that I didn’t think that we were right for each other. She sounded a bit surprised but took the news in good grace. I remember her saying “Thank you for phoning to talk in person. I normally just send a text message.”

Jesus, how many dates had she been on? Lots, I would bet.

Date #1 – Rock of Ages – Wed 18th July 2012

I had mixed feelings about seeing her again, but Tech Titan wanted to see “Rock of Ages”, the stage show in the West End of London. I had heard good reviews of it and was curious as it seemed to be my kind of music i.e. 80s rock. A night of entertainment with easy company was infinitely better than another night of sitting around listening to by best friend moaning about his deranged ex-wife.

Late on the Wednesday afternoon I went around to Tech Titan’s house and this time she gave me her house number, so I rang the bell and waited. She came down, we greeted with the customary peck on each other’s cheek and walked to the nearest Tube station. As usual she was in an upbeat mood and very chatty. I sat there smiling politely but in my head a battle was raging. As much as I liked the person, I wasn’t physically attracted to her, she was just too big. The thought of having sex with her did not appeal at all. What was I going to do?

We made our way to the theatre where the musical was being staged to collect the tickets before the show. I expected to pay for the tickets as I was accustomed to doing so. In my world the gentleman pays for everything when on a date with a woman. I wasn’t being chauvinistic, but chivalrous. My mother brought me up funny.

Tech Titan had outflanked me and had bought the tickets online and already paid for them. I wasn’t comfortable with this. It went against my gentlemanly code. I didn’t know how to react to this. As it was more than an hour before the doors opened I suggested that we go have a coffee and light dinner. I felt compelled to pay for everything from then on.

We found a Costa Coffee on the fringes of Covent Garden just as a rain-shower starting sprinkling us. We ordered coffees, sandwiches and cakes. Tech Titan ate with gusto and had more than me. I consider myself a big eater and am over 6 feet tall. She was almost as tall as me and wider. Any gland problem she might have had was being exacerbated by her ferocious appetite.

The show was excellent and we both enjoyed it, discovering that we had very similar taste in music. We caught the Tube back to her house where my car was parked. Conversation still flowed easily, but the whole time I was wondering what I would say or do if she invited me in to her place for “coffee”.

I don’t know why I did this, but I took her hand as we were walking back to her place. Her smile told me that she liked this. To this day I do not know why I did that. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

My stupidity didn’t stop there. Once we were outside her front door, I really excelled. I leaned forward and kissed her. She responded positively and we kissed for a minute or so. What the fuck?!

I wasn’t particularly horny. I wasn’t expecting her to invite me inside. It just seemed like the thing to do under the circumstances. It was a spectacular failing of self-control on my part.

Before she could ask me inside if she wanted to, I said “Good night” and walked off, leaving her standing at her front door with a beaming smile on her face.

What the hell happened there?