Every afternoon the next week after our second date Sweet Thing would send me a text message.
Good evening! How was your day? I hope it went well and was productive. Just to say that I’m thinking of you. XX
Hello you. I hope you have had a good day. I’ve just checked the weather forecast and sleet is due for Saturday! Could be fun lol x
Just so you know, I’m thinking of you…x
You don’t need to bring anything BUT you might want to bring a change of clothes in case we get snowed in! xx
I’m not a great one for texting because no phone is designed with my thumbs in mind. We spoke a few times at night during the week and it became clear that she was very excited about seeing me. My offering to give her a massage may have had something to do with that.
On the Saturday I arrived after lunchtime at Sweet Thing’s home that was in the middle of nowhere. On the drive over I found it surprising how easily I had put the previous night’s bad date out of my mind. As Sweet Thing had suggested, I had brought a change of clothing along, but I wasn’t too sure of the circumstances under which they might be needed. Her words, “…in case we get snowed in!” was ambiguous. It could have been entirely innocent, but a part of me did wonder if there was a naughty thought behind it. I had never got intimate with a woman as early as the third date because it seemed wrong to do so. However, my encounter with Tech Titan was making me question the strength and validity of my morals. For the time being I had no intentions of getting Sweet Thing in to bed, although I had been wondering what it would be like.
Sweet Thing greeted me with a polite kiss on the lips and immediately offered me a guided tour of her home. Her house was a detached double-storey with a large integrated garage, a small garden in front and a larger garden at the back. It was cited in a close with only a few neighbour’s houses adjoining her property. I was impressed by the quality and obvious expense of her furnishings. I also liked her taste in décor. Upstairs were three bedrooms, one of which was her office from where she ran her business. The main bedroom had a large en-suite shower room. She had done well for herself.
I was introduced to her year-old husky dog who took an immediate liking to me, or so it seemed. He started jumping up against me, tried to lick my face and wanted me to play with him. Sweet Thing smiled at this; I think I passed her ‘dog test’. I knew I would because I grew up with dogs, love them as pets and miss having one of my own. Dogs seem to gravitate towards me, often perplexing their owners. Many times I’ve been out walking and a dog would appear out of nowhere and walk with me, ignoring the calls of their owner.
Sweet Thing said that she need to take her husky for a walk because it would be too cold later and might even be snowing. So we got the dog in his girdle and we went for a walk around her hamlet which was no more than two dozen houses and nothing else. The dog was in his element, pulling on his leash like he was designed to do. I offered to take the leash as I could see that she was struggling, expecting her to decline my offer. To my surprise she accepted and gave me the leash, which I took as a sign that she trusted me. Maybe her arms were tired?
Back in the warmth of her house we sat drinking coffee and chatting, side by side on her sofa, with the dog occasionally trying to jump into the small space between us. Sweet Thing made us a curry for an early dinner as the faint sun went away. I appreciate a woman who is a good cook and Sweet Thing was that. More than anything I enjoyed the novelty of having someone cook for me; I had forgotten what that felt like.
Sweet Thing put the dog to bed in his large cage that occupied a corner of the kitchen. I had taken my boots off and she put them on top of his cage. We went to snuggle up on the sofa to watch movies, without being pestered by a jealous interloper. It felt good to be doing that with someone new by my side, even though I still wasn’t sure about my feelings about her.
After a movie had finished I turned to Sweet Thing and said, “Hey, let me know when you’d like that back massage,” not thinking she’d take me up on it.
“Now would be nice,” she said with a naughty little smile that I didn’t know what to make of.
“Okay”, I said, expecting her to want to sit between my feet. Instead she got up and went upstairs. I swallowed hard, got a bottle of massage oil out of my bag and followed Sweet Thing to her bedroom, unsure how this was going to play out.
“Where would you like me?” she asked, standing next to her bed.
“Umm, if you could take your top off and lie on the bed face down, then that would be good,” I said as professionally as I knew how, trying to sound like one of the blushing beauticians who wax my back a few times a year.
Sweet Thing took her top off, but kept her bra on and I stole a glance at her small breasts just as she lay down. She was an a-cup, but so was my ex-wife and I was with her for almost fifteen years. Once she was settled, I unclasped her bra and I got to work giving her as a good a massage as I knew how. We stopped talking.
I took my time and my hands easily worked her small upper body. If I put my wrists together and fanned my hands out, then they almost covered the width of her back. Once she had relaxed I worked the knots out of her muscles and carefully cracked her spine back into place. Sweet Thing played ladies soccer twice a week and she hadn’t been to a physio or chiropractor in a long time. She had relaxed to such an extent that she was on the verge of falling asleep.
I should have left then but the thought of driving home alone in the now softly falling snow was unappealing. All that was waiting for me in my home was cold, dark and lonely. I had a half-naked woman in my hands and I was craving affection, tenderness even. It had been a long time.
Sweet Thing softly murmured as I rolled her on to her back. I started to unbuckle her belt, my intention driven by my body, not my brain.
“Whoa! What are you doing,” she said, suddenly coming to life, propping herself up on her elbows as she looked at me in surprise, her bra falling off to show her nipples erect from the cool air.
“I want to give you pleasure,” is all I said. That was true, but in that moment I also so badly wanted to feel a woman’s body against mine. In that moment I was craving the sensation of a woman’s arms and legs wrapped around me…any woman, even one with bad teeth.
Sweet Thing thought about it for a few seconds, her eyes darting between mine. She was deciding something and I was expecting the evening to come to an abrupt end, with the possibility of never seeing her again.
“Okay,” she said and lay back, closing her eyes.
The time for talking was over…