Mandy
- 3 years ago
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I was sat having a coffee in a cafe I sometimes go to. Not a regular haunt as it was about fifteen miles away from my home town, but nevertheless I do visit perhaps once or twice a month. Far enough away and more on the tourist trail than normal, it was a good place to go to have a bit of peace and quiet as I seldom, if ever, saw anyone I knew while I visited.
Except today.
I had been pondering the meaning of life, comfortably on my own, when I became aware of someone in the counter queue waving.
At me?
Yes it was definitely at me and as they caught my eye I waved back. Mentally shrugging my internal shoulders as I realised my solitary thoughts were about to be broken. By of all people Mandy.
Mandy? I hear you ask? An old friend from the past. I’d known her through a car club we were both members of. Her husband had been somewhat of a geek about cars and had the ability to reach ‘boring’ status in about the same time as our cars could take to accelerate to sixty miles an hour.
Mandy however was different, if slightly unfortunate. Nature had been kind in the sense that she had a sensational body, but most unkind in her looks. She was, in service parlance a ‘grimmy’ in that she really did have a face only a mother could love. Which, and I’m certainly not a misogynist, was frightening. Damn shame really, because she was in every other sense a wonderful person. A little too touchy-feely my ex-wife thought, but not in a way that I thought was either embarrassing or over the top.
Indeed, I suspect she’d been the subject of many’s a naughty though or worse. So although I braced myself a little for the whirlwind now approaching I have to admit to not being too dismayed.
“Mandy, how nice to see you, unexpected as well.” I said as I stood to greet her.
“Sven,” she gushed, a tad too much but pretty normal for her, “It’s such a pleasure to see you - it’s been far too long.”
And so we exchanged pleasantries as friends who haven’t seen each other for two or three years do.
“So,” she asked, “and what are you doing with yourself these days? I’ve heard you’re a single man again...”
The unspoken question, the gentle probe. I responded by telling her I was now fully retired, not looking for either work or another ‘companion’ and just generally rather enjoying my free time. So how was she? And what was her other half ‘Gerard’ up to? He loathed being called ‘Gerry’ preferring the far more pretentious full version rather than the more casual diminutive most folks would have favoured.
“Oh he’s off up country somewhere, on business, he tells me, but I know his tarty secretary gone with him again. He always was bit dense in that way. He thinks I don’t know, when actually I do and truthfully couldn’t care less.”
Actually I enjoy the quiet around the house and he never was much good about about sex or satisfying anyone. ‘Climb on.’ ‘Fuck about for about thirty seconds.’ ‘Climax.’ Roll off and go to sleep!’ The original ‘wham, bam, thank you mam!’ Except he was never thoughtful, or polite enough even to think of saying ‘Thank-you!’”
My face must have been a picture during this little, if thankfully quiet tirade. I’d certainly almost blown the mouthful of coffee down her front during the start of her little rant. I’d never seen her quite like that before or even in that light.
What to say... ? But she solved it for me by putting her hand on my arm and apologising straight away. Or she tried to, but I think we were both aware, I surely was, of the spark between us as she touched my arm. She didn’t let go my arm as she continued in a quite different vein.
“Sven you used to be in the IT business didn’t you?”
Now normally I never admit to that in the same way as doctors or nurses never admit to their trade either, so I wondered how she knew. She went on,”Jane.” My ex! “Mentioned it a few years ago.”
Oh well, cover blown, I might as well lie back and enjoy what ever was coming - little did I know how prophetic that thought might be...
o-O-o
About twenty minutes later saw me as a passenger in her car - “Don’t want to excite the neighbours by having a strange car visit while Gerry’s away...” - hmmm so it was Gerry now was it? And what’s this about exciting the neighbours? We were on our way to her house to ‘fix’ a so far unexplained problem with her laptop. Even though I’d tried to explain I was no longer ‘current’ or up to date she wouldn’t take no for an answer. In the end I wasn’t doing anything else and rather than cause a fuss I gave in and went with her. My car was safe in the centre car park for the rest of the day and anyway she’d said she’d bring me back to retrieve it.
We parked up and I followed her up the steps to the front door - marvelling at the luscious ass I was following. It was more than enough to generate a certain ‘firming’ of a part of my anatomy that as time passed had even more of a mind of it’s own, especially as sex, at least with another consenting adult, was a somewhat scare commodity now I was living on my own.
I followed her in, turned round and shut the door, and turning round to follow her and collided with her front, conveniently placed where I would do just that. She clutched me to her so that neither of us would fall over, at least that’s what I assumed was in her mind.
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