I certainly don’t want to disclose my real name because of the embarrassing circumstances of my first date with my current spouse Bathsheba. My Bathsheba was not what one could safely describe as standard female spouse material. Of course, I didn’t know that at first because our first date was more of a lark than a serious encounter for purposes of entering into a contract of marriage.
We both had joined at approximately the same time a social club that specialized in initial meetings between members of the opposite sex for carnal exercises of a private and personal nature.
February was always a good month for the nubile juices to flow strongly and the theme for this month was for the female partner to finish off her evening’s costume with a paper bag fixed firmly over her head with holes cut out for her eyes and her mouth. A narrow slit was in the area of her nose to insure she had full access to oxygen whenever necessary. That was a good idea because she did start to pant excessively when one’s ardor was inspired by the touch of her bare skin.
We were both members of that segment of society that is well-educated but lacking in proper family background to make the necessity of working for a living a matter of choice.
For a small fee for membership, we were allocated a list of five names and contact cell phones to arrange our first “date”. This particular month, the dates would be truly blind dates because of the paper bag requirement for the females of the species and the option of a nicely decorated eye mask for the males. I looked at the mirror at my face with the mask on and had to laugh because all I could think of was, “The Sword of Zorro”, a film I had found delightful when I was barely old enough to understand the plot.
Risking the possibility of rejection, I called the first number on my list which simply described my first contact as “Bathsheba M./29/Shy of 2 meters/Average build/Over-sized bosom/Limited sexual experience/Legal assistant/2 younger sisters, both married/Parents deceased/ Likes lots of foreplay/Anal penetration not permissible/ Available any evening after tea until midnight/Condoms are required.
My only negative vibe was the “Average build” because that could mean almost anything in today’s world.
“Hello, this is Bathsheba. This isn’t Ronald, is it?”
I hesitated for a moment wondering who the devil Ronald was. Then, I just pushed it out of my mind and answered in a perfectly reasonable tone of voice introducing myself according to the hints given to the members by the introduction services coordinator.
“This is Harry here. I am a member of the XXX introduction services and you are on the top of my list as being the most compatible in matching traits and desires. Would you be interested in meeting me this Friday evening for an evening of getting properly acquainted in private?”
For a moment, there was only silence at the other end of the connection, and I worried that I might have the wrong number but, then again, Bathsheba was such an uncommon name, I was certain I had reached the correct party.
Thankfully, the line buzzed in my ear and I heard Bathsheba reply with a fair amount of enthusiasm.
“Hello, Harry, very pleased to meet you, I am sure. I would be happy to meet you on that evening. Please give me directions to your place and I will be there promptly. Remember about the eye-mask and I will be wearing the issued head covering to make our “blind” date truly blind.”
I gave her the most concise directions possible under the circumstances but I have to admit I was under a lot of pressure and had to think carefully about turning left and turning right.
On Friday night, I stood expectantly at the sideboard of my small bar just off the dining area and sipped a whiskey sour for “Dutch Courage” before donning my small black eye-mask. The ringing of the front door buzzer was enough to make me stride swiftly to the door and open it to find the perfectly-shaped nubile female figure of a young woman on the other side modestly dressed in a simple black dress, pantyhose with high black boots with heels and the shielding paper bag that covered her facial features. I did see the last few inches of a lovely blond pony-tail sticking out the back like some convenient handle to be pumped to draw water. She had even cleverly decorated the paper bag with lipstick around the mouth opening and drew eye-lashes on the eye-holes that revealed her eyes to be sky-blue with little flecks of silver. I quickly pulled her inside before any of my neighbors spied this apparition of nubile perfection on my doorstep and jumped to the conclusion that “funny business” was going on inside my home.
I offered her a drink and moved us both to the white leather sofa watching with great interest as her legs crossed showing a hint of shocking red knickers under the short black dress with the swirling pleats that clung like latex to her shapely legs. Her legs were so long that I feared she was actually taller than I but reasoned that if we were both sitting down, the slight difference would not be noticeable. The little murmur of the material running over her panty hose heightened my arousal to a point that I worried was far too apparent to a woman interested in such signs of desperation for immediate coupling activities.
.... There is more of this story ...