The Art of Anonymity
by Fenella Ashworth
Copyright© 2019 by Fenella Ashworth
Erotica Sex Story: In a moment of madness, Jo leaves a complimentary message on the windscreen of a fellow shopper. Tall, fit, muscled and with an ass to die for, she feels able to justify her rash decision. With every intention of retaining anonymity, to her utter embarrassment, her actions are witnessed and questioned by Simon...the man himself. Fate subsequently conspires to create another chance meeting between them and it quickly becomes clear that there is a case of serious, mutual sexual attraction....
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Heterosexual Fiction Humor Light Bond Oral Sex Safe Sex .
Jo sighed with frustration as she made her way towards the checkout. She’d taken the day off work with the specific intention of purchasing some desperately needed summer clothes and all she’d managed to find were a couple of packets of her favourite biscuits from the Food Hall. Perhaps, she mused, idly picking off the nail varnish from her fingers, if she wasn’t so keen on biscuits, more of her older clothes would still fit her. Her breasts had definitely increased in size recently, although her waist thankfully remained fairly trim ... for now, at least.
Absentmindedly delving into her purse for some money whilst standing patiently in the queue, she found her attention unexpectedly drawn to the person ahead. The man being served in front of her had the most gloriously taut, muscled ass she had ever had the fortune to lay her eyes on. Subconsciously letting out a deep sigh of pleasure, her eyes willingly devoured the rest of him. Dressed in a tight T-shirt, cargo pants and Timberland boots, his strong, powerful body seem to teasingly draw her in. Jo admired his thick, muscular thighs, wide shoulders and strong arms and was almost grateful she couldn’t see his face which, in comparison, would probably be a disappointment. After all, nobody was perfect.
As the stranger concluded his transaction, he bent down to pick up a number of bags beside his feet. As well as enjoying more of that delicious ass, Jo watched the muscles tense in his suntanned arms as they took the strain. The vision caused a sudden image to appear in her mind; that same man, taking his weight on those sturdy arms, as he slowly entered her tight, willing body. God, she needed to get laid if she’d started salivating over random strangers. As he turned to leave, she made the mistake of glancing up at him, causing a red flush of shame to tear across her neck as their eyes momentarily locked. Jo felt her stomach flip as she took in his broad chest, flat stomach, perfectly messed-up black hair, chiselled features and deep brown eyes which seemed to drill down into her very soul to converse directly with her blatant desire. Damn, perhaps there was such a thing as perfection after all because this man looked as close as was humanly possible. Blinking her lustful eyes away, the moment was lost. As she stepped forward to the counter, the man walked out of the shop.
Jo meandered along the high street in a state of shock, her heartrate slowly reducing back down to the norm. At forty years old, surely she should have passed the stage of acting like a teenager, for goodness sake. Having been divorced for nearly three years and failing on all fronts with the dating game, Jo was forced to admit she was more than a little sexually frustrated. She’d been feeling increasingly horny over the past few months particularly, which she ascribed to the sunshine. Summer always made her feel happy and carefree. Clearly, she was just going to have to be brave and put herself out there, if her situation was ever going to improve. But it was never that simple. She simply wasn’t a one-night-stand kind of girl. She didn’t just want sex; she wanted a connection, friendship and ultimately somebody to share her life. And that was an altogether more difficult proposition.
Thoroughly distracted by thoughts of that incredibly sexy man swirling around her head, Jo wrote off the remainder of her shopping expedition as a bad job. Returning to the car park, she lobbed the small number of purchases she’d made onto the back seat and dropped down gratefully behind the steering wheel. She wasn’t a natural shopper and found the process both tiring and extremely dull. Inhaling deeply, she glanced into the rear view mirror. Staring back at her was a wide-eyed, freckled woman with a messy bob haircut, which at this moment was a lot more mess than bob. Sighing, she closed her eyes, providing an opportunity to centre herself and recover from her recent excitement.
As she slowly allowed her eyelids to open once again, she was shocked to find the cute guy walking in her direction. Just before he reached her location, he shuffled his numerous purchases into one hand, unlocked a nearby car and deposited all of his purchases inside. Then, grabbing a couple of empty bags, he set off in the direction of the supermarket, seemingly unaware that his delectable body was being closely observed with every step he took.
One thing about getting divorced and hitting the big four-oh, mused Jo as she grabbed a pen and paper, was that you really didn’t care too much what people thought anymore. Recently, she’d found herself doing much more outrageous things than she would ever have done in her twenties. She tried to console herself that it wasn’t a sign predicting the onset of madness, but rather suddenly being aware of the fact that life was there to be lived to the full. Quickly scribbling a note, Jo walked across to the man’s car and slipped the paper under his front windscreen wiper. Grinning, she hurried back to her own car, started up the engine and sped away, feeling like a naughty schoolgirl.
The car park exit was controlled by two automatic barriers, behind which a long queue of traffic had formed. Jo craned her neck to try and see what the problem was. A parking attendant was beside one, stabbing an electronic keypad with his index finger, to no visible effect. The other barrier was clogged up by an embarrassed couple who had failed to pay for their parking prior to exit and were now attempting to reverse, very unsuccessfully. Sighing, Jo pulled on the handbrake, cranked up the stereo and wound down the window in order to enjoy the glorious English summer’s day. This was clearly going to be a slow journey home. Closing her eyes, she allowed the calming melodies of Ed Sheeran’s ‘Thinking out Loud’ to wash over her.
Jo was happily (and tunelessly) singing along to the lyrics about people falling in love in mysterious ways, when she became aware of movement nearby. Her eyes hazily re-gained focus as she glanced in the side mirror, only to observe a pair of familiar-looking cargo pants making their steady way towards her. Gasping, a red flush of shame spread across her neck and chest which increased exponentially as their owner stopped beside the car door and squatted down. Close up, it wasn’t just his butt that was cute; he was utterly gorgeous. A layer of stubble covered his chiselled face and Jo couldn’t help but be drawn into his dark eyes which were now on a level with her clear, blue ones. Upon more careful observation, she noticed they had tiny flecks of gold in them, accompanied by long, sweeping lashes. Just in case Jo wasn’t already utterly overwhelmed, he also smelt divine.
Leaning a muscled forearm on her car door, Jo quickly retracted her limbs, as though in danger of being burnt, lest their skin touch. Her stomach rolled over with a combination of horror and adrenalin as she observed him dragging out the note she had written from his back pocket. Holding the note right in front of her, she re-read her brazen words.
“I wanted to let you know that you have the cutest butt I’ve ever seen.”
Feeling a mammoth wave of shame pass through her, Jo sat in silence, her mouth slightly open, words entirely failing her.
‘Hello,’ he said in a deep, rumbling tone, oozing sexuality.
‘Hi,’ replied Jo quietly, casting a glance down at her hands, her voice sounding unnaturally high.
‘What is the meaning of this?’ he demanded, wafting the note between them, his expression unreadable.
‘Umm ... it was an anonymous compliment,’ she stuttered.
‘You’re not very accomplished in the art of anonymity, are you?’ he observed dryly.
‘I thought you’d gone,’ argued Jo.
‘I left something in my car. I had to double back.’
Staring straight ahead, Jo suddenly realised that the flow of traffic had recommenced and felt a genuine rush of gratitude towards the car park attendant who had manage to fix the barrier. Seeing a method of escape suddenly open up to her, she shifted her car into first gear.
‘Excuse me,’ she murmured. The man raised one eyebrow questioningly, stood up and took a step back. Jo pulled the car forwards a few meters, desperately hoping he’d get the hint. He didn’t. Her heart sank as she watched him in her mirror walk the few steps back towards her car. As he squatted down once again, she noticed his eyes flick over her body before returning to her face. Feeling very self-conscious, Jo smoothed her hands down her thighs to push her pretty summer dress firmly towards her knees, in order to prevent him getting another eyeful.
‘So, do you normally ogle men when you’re out shopping?’ His eyes drifted to the bags on her back seat. ‘No wonder you haven’t managed to buy much.’
‘It wasn’t like that,’ replied Jo outraged.
‘Women have complained at men for years, saying we look at their breasts rather than their faces,’ he continued, looking firmly into Jo’s eyes as though to prove a point. ‘And all the while, you’re staring at my butt.’
‘I was behind you! It would have been impossible to look at your face,’ she argued.
‘So, do you often put notes like that on strange men’s cars?’
‘No, never,’ explained Jo. ‘I just ... couldn’t help myself.’
‘Why?’ he asked curiously.
‘Because... ‘ she started shyly before the words petered out.
‘Go on.’
‘Because your body was just so bloody perfect. And I thought how awful it would be if you didn’t realise. I mean,’ she continued, the words tumbling from her mouth in her rush to explain. ‘I’m sure you’re told often enough but there was a small chance you simply didn’t have any idea how ... desirable you are. Excuse me, I must go now,’ Jo added, as she pulled the car closer to the exit barrier. Once again, she watched him follow in her side mirror but this time, she became aware of a bulge in his cargo pants which certainly hadn’t been that pronounced earlier. He dropped back down to her level for a third time.
‘So, it was an act of charity?’ asked the man, his lips twitching. ‘A public service, if you will?’
‘Stop putting words into my mouth!’ complained Jo. The man stared intently at Jo’s mouth for a long moment, before dragging his eyes back up to hers. His look was scorching and Jo could feel a dull pulse taking hold of her rapidly swelling pussy lips. Subconsciously, she bit her lower lip as she watched him nod towards her empty front passenger seat.
‘Do you want me to come with you?’ he asked, a tiny grin flitting across his face, in recognition of the unintentional double entendre.
‘What? No!’ exclaimed Jo. ‘I don’t even know you!’
‘That wouldn’t take very long to remedy,’ he said in a low rumble.
‘You could be a psychopath!’
‘I could be. Or I could be a psychologist,’ he chuckled.
‘Are you?’ demanded Jo. Maddeningly, he wiggled his eyebrows and smiled. ‘Maybe you’re a criminal,’ she added when he didn’t reply.
‘I might be. Or maybe I’m a policeman. Or both. The two are by no means mutually exclusive in my experience. Tell me, do you always give people the benefit of the doubt in this way?’ he asked sarcastically.
‘Life’s taught me to be cautious,’ said Jo, trying to justify her pessimistic approach.
‘Hmm, I can’t blame you for that. So?’ he asked, nodding towards the seat again.
‘No!’ said Jo defiantly. Aside from the fact she knew nothing about him, he looked a damn sight younger than her and probably ten times fitter. He’d wipe the floor with her.
‘Okay,’ he grinned. ‘Well, thank you for the almost anonymous compliment. It was nice to not quite meet you.’
‘But I don’t even know your name,’ stuttered Jo, as he began to stand.
‘And why would you need to know that?’ he asked. Realising she had no answer, Jo sat there mouthing like a goldfish. After a moment, he shot her a wink, straightened up and walked away. Jo watched him in her mirror until he was out of sight, her stomach twisting with unexpected regret.
The following week, Jo was sitting in a bar, sipping a white wine spritzer with her best friend Kath. The tinkling music, chatter and occasional rumble of the coffee percolator provided excellent low-level camouflage noise to enable a good gossip to take place without being overheard.
‘I still can’t believe you did that,’ chuckled Kath, shaking her head in disbelief. ‘I would have died of embarrassment.’
‘I almost did,’ giggled Jo. ‘But he wasn’t supposed to know who’d written it.’
‘Was he really that cute?’ grinned Kath.
‘Fuck, yeah,’ she sighed, staring dreamily out of their large window which overlooked the high street. Jo had thought of him fairly continuously since their brief meeting, mostly to imagine what might have happened if she’d allowed him to climb into her car. ‘He was seriously shaggable.’
‘You should have taken him up on his offer, then,’ giggled Kath. ‘If anybody needs to get laid, it’s you.’
‘Yeah, thanks. I really don’t need you to remind me of that,’ groaned Jo, her head in her hands. ‘But the thought of being naked in front of somebody new... ‘
‘You’d be fine,’ soothed Kath. ‘You’re in good shape and once the moment takes hold, I doubt you’d give it a second thought.’
‘Mmm, perhaps,’ replied Jo, sounding unconvinced.
‘We just need to find you a nice man. How about that one?’ grinned Kath, nodding towards a young guy in his twenties, jogging past their window.
‘I think he’s more my speed,’ laughed Jo, pointing towards an octogenarian, cautiously crossing the road with his walking stick. ‘And if I could confiscate his glasses, I wouldn’t have to worry about him seeing my wobbly bits.’
‘Give over!’ giggled Kath, shoving her friend playfully on the shoulder.
As the two women continued to scour the high street for suitable victims, they found their attention unexpectedly diverted by a youth wearing a black hoodie and running at speed through the pedestrians. Suddenly, he tried to wrench a handbag from the grasp of a short, grey-haired lady. Although she initially put up a good fight, he was clearly much stronger. Pushing her violently away, she relinquished her hold on the bag and fell heavily to the pavement. Within seconds however, the sprinting youth was intercepted by a man who ran towards him full pelt, rugby tackling him clean to the ground. There looked to be quite a scuffle taking place between them, until the man smashed his fist straight across the mugger’s face, knocking him out cold.
‘Oh my God!’ exclaimed Kath, rising from her chair at the same time as Jo. ‘That looks like Ivy Marsham. She lives on my street. I must go and help her.’ Grabbing her handbag and coat, Kath dashed out of the restaurant with Jo in hot pursuit.
‘Ivy?’ said Kath gently, as she dropped to her knees beside the older lady. ‘Are you hurt?’
‘Only my pride, dear,’ gasped the woman rubbing her hip painfully, as police sirens blared onto the scene and the gathering crowd stepped back. In the excitement which ensued, Jo and Kath slowly helped Ivy up onto a nearby bench to catch her breath and provided a preliminary description of what had taken place to a policeman. In the distance, they could see the handcuffed mugger, who seemed to have partially regained consciousness, staggering into the back of a waiting ambulance. As an evidence bag containing a knife was carried past them, it suddenly dawned on Jo that the outcome could have been a damn sight more serious.
‘Here you are, Ma’am,’ said a sergeant, returning to them with Ivy’s handbag. ‘Now, if you’re absolutely sure you don’t require medical attention, then we’ll need to take a statement. But we can do that back at your home, if you’d be more comfortable there?’
‘Yes, yes, I would prefer that,’ replied the trembling woman. ‘But firstly, please can I thank the brave person who stopped that young man in his tracks?’
‘Yes, one moment. I’ll just bring him over. He’s an off duty police officer.’ As all eyes followed the sergeant to a group of men nearby, Jo found herself gasping in shock.
‘Oh my God!’ she groaned.
‘What’s the matter?’ asked Kath, her eyes snapping round to her friend.
‘It’s him,’ she croaked. ‘The bloke in the car park.’
‘Oh Lord!’ breathed Kath as a slightly battered man strode confidently towards them, a bruised, blood-smeared cheek only slightly detracting from his astonishingly good looks. ‘You’re right. He is fucking gorgeous,’ she grinned.
‘Hush!’ hissed Jo, her cheeks flaming with embarrassment.
‘This is the Detective Inspector, Ma’am,’ announced the officer in a respectful tone.
‘I’m just Simon today,’ he smiled in a self-depreciating manner.
‘Thank you so much,’ gushed Ivy, grasping his hand. ‘That was awfully brave. How can I ever thank you?’
‘You don’t need to,’ he replied, casting a curious glance towards Jo before returning his full attention to Ivy. ‘It’s part and parcel of the job. Are you okay?’
‘I am, thanks to you,’ she admitted. ‘But I would have been feeling ever so sorry for myself otherwise.’
Half an hour later, much of the excitement had abated. Kath, Jo and a number of other bystanders had provided witness statements and Ivy had been accompanied home.
‘Are we allowed to leave now?’ Kath asked Simon as he walked towards them.
‘Yeah. We have your details. Thanks very much. We can all go home now.’
‘Will you be okay?’ asked a concerned Jo. Simon was looking a little worse for wear after his scuffle. The adrenalin had obviously dispersed and Jo felt he looked tired and in some pain.
‘I’m good thanks,’ he nodded.
‘You aren’t going to be alone tonight, are you?’ asked Jo. Hearing Kath snigger beside her and watching Simon’s face break out into a broad smile, she immediately realised her faux pas. ‘What I mean is... ‘ she stumbled. ‘I don’t think you should drive yourself back. I don’t think you should be alone.’
‘Are you offering to take me home, then?’ he teased.
‘If you like,’ joked Jo, not really expecting him to take her up on the offer.
‘I’d like that very much,’ he replied immediately, shooting her a hungry look. Jo glanced across at her friend for support, but Kath was too busy shaking with laughter to offer any.
‘I think that’s my signal to leave. Goodnight both,’ giggled Kath, giving her friend a big hug. ‘And I want all the details tomorrow,’ she whispered before squeezing her tightly and walking away.
‘Have you eaten?’ asked Simon. ‘I’m suddenly feeling in desperate need of a Chinese takeaway.’
‘Sounds great. There’s a good one recently opened in the high street. The Golden Dragon?’ explained Jo, surprised at quite how forward she was being and knowing that his confidence rubbing off on her was a major influence.
‘After you, then,’ smiled Simon, holding out his hand and tilting his head slightly.
The atmosphere inside the restaurant was tranquil. The air was cool, dark and still whilst the air filtration unit from the nearby fish tank provided a soothing backdrop of gently bubbling water. Once their order had been placed, Jo migrated towards the seating area provided and dropped down gratefully onto the sofa.
‘Look, do you mind if I just go and clean up?’ asked Simon, gesturing towards his face which was still smudged with dirt and his own dried blood.
‘Of course not,’ said Jo quickly. ‘I’ll wait here.’ Nodding, Simon walked towards the restroom as Jo’s phone vibrated for the fifth time in as many minutes. Grabbing it from her bag, she scrolled through her messages bemused, shaking her head at her friend’s antics. Kath was clearly finding it difficult to contain herself. Her texts ranged from “OMG he is FUCKING gorgeous!” to “What’s happening? Tell me! TELL ME!”
“We’re just grabbing a Chinese takeaway. Nothing to tell. Speak soon x” typed Jo, knowing that Kath wouldn’t be able to leave it there. Sure enough, within only a matter of minutes, a new message had appeared in her inbox.
“You have SO GOT TO SHAG HIM!!!!!!” Jo giggled and looked around to ensure she was still on her own, before typing back a reply.
“Don’t be ridiculous. I barely know him.” She pressed ‘send’ with a flourish and dropped the phone back into her bag.
‘Anything I can do, to help you know me better?’ asked Simon, sitting down quietly beside her. Jo gasped and turned an unattractive shade of puce. ‘Sorry, I couldn’t help but see your message.’
‘I’m sorry. It’s Kath. She’s... ‘
‘Disturbed? Unhinged? Mentally deranged?’ grinned Simon.
‘No,’ giggled Jo. ‘Well, actually sometimes, yes. All of the above. I guess she’s just trying to encourage me to ... live a little.’
‘And why would she need to do that?’ asked Simon gently.
‘Oh, you know... ‘ began Jo quietly.
‘No, I don’t,’ replied Simon, shaking his head.
‘Well, I got divorced a few years back and ... well ... I’ve been on my own ever since.’
‘Why?’
‘Because I’m not cut out for casual affairs, I guess,’ smiled Jo. ‘Now, why don’t we talk about something else?’
‘Because I rather like talking about you,’ said Simon, standing up to collect their takeaway order which had just been called. They walked in silence back to Jo’s car. As she pulled away, it suddenly dawned on her that she was transporting a serving police officer, so probably ought to observe the rules of the road a little more closely than usual. Her right foot tended to be a little heavy during times of stress ... and this definitely counted as one of those.
They drove along in silence for a short time. Jo was aware of taking short, sharp, apprehensive breaths yet seemed unable to prevent herself from doing so. She was also conscious of being closely watched.
‘Do you wanna fuck me?’ asked Simon as they waited to pull out of a junction. Jo gasped with shock, her foot slipping on the clutch and stalling the engine.
‘Umm... ‘ said Jo, playing for time as her cheeks flamed once more. Turning the ignition back on and slowly pulling forwards, her brain kicked into gear. This whole situation had started because she’d been bold and honest. Why stop now? ‘Who wouldn’t?’ she muttered, glad that concentrating on the road made it impossible to look at him.
‘And do you want me to fuck you?’
‘Oh God, yeah,’ she breathed, eyes half closed, clenching the steering wheel tightly at the mere thought of it.
‘Sorry. I’m not great at sub-text,’ explained Simon. ‘I prefer straight talking.’
‘You don’t say,’ breathed Jo.
‘You’re very honest, you know?’ observed Simon. ‘I spend most of my life trying to read people. Trying to decipher to what extent they’re lying to me. You’re an exceptionally refreshing change.’
‘I’m too honest,’ said Jo quietly.
‘There’s no such thing as too honest, as far as I’m concerned. I live up the next road on your right, by the way,’ said Simon, providing Jo with directions on where to park. As they pulled into a large driveway, Jo cut the engine and slowly exhaled.
‘Nice place,’ she observed, admiring the large bungalow framed with pretty gardens that were frothing over with flowers.
‘Thanks. Come on, let’s get inside. I’m ravenous.’
‘So,’ began Simon, once the takeaway had been demolished and they’d made impressive in-roads into a Strawberry Pavlova he’d found loitering in his fridge. ‘Is there anything I can do, to help you get to know me better?’
‘I don’t think so,’ said Jo quietly.
‘How about one minute of questions and answers? For one minute, you ask me whatever questions you want and I have to answer truthfully. And then we switch places.’
‘Ummm, if you like... ‘
‘It’s either that or Simon says,’ he grinned.
‘Your first suggestion is fine,’ said Jo quickly. She could envisage a game of “Simon Says” being seriously detrimental to her mental health.
‘You ask first then,’ smiled Simon. ‘Your time starts now,’ he added, glancing at his watch.
‘Ummm ... Full name?
‘Simon Derby.’
‘Age?’
‘Thirty-nine.’
‘Really?’ asked Jo, slightly taken aback. ‘You look much younger.’
‘Thanks,’ he grinned. ‘But yes, really.’
‘And you work for the police?’
‘Yes,’ he confirmed, pulling his wallet out of his pocket and passing it across to her. It felt reassuringly heavy and as Jo opened it, she could see his metal warrant card, along with a set of credit and bank cards on the opposite side. ‘I joined the police service straight out of university. I’ve worked in CID ... the criminal investigation department ... for about ten years now.’
‘And you’re single,’ Jo asked hesitantly, appreciating it wasn’t a given.
‘Of course,’ replied Simon, sending her a questioning look. ‘Ten seconds remaining,’ he added, glancing down at his watch.
‘Oh! Okay,’ said Jo, quickly weighing up whether she should dare to ask her final question and deciding she should. ‘What do you want from me?’
‘That’s more like it,’ grinned Simon. ‘I want ... I’d really like ... to see more of you. A lot more of you.’
‘Why?’ she croaked.
‘You sure you want the entire truth to that question?’ he confirmed quietly.
‘Um ... yes. I think so.’
‘Because you’re extraordinarily sexy,’ he murmured. ‘And since we met in the car park last week, I’ve thought of precious little, except how wonderful it would be to rock myself relentlessly inside your amazing body and mercilessly drive you to orgasm over and over and over again.’
Although Jo did her best to reply to Simon’s pronouncement, her astonished response never managed to crawl any further than the base of her throat. Staring at him in disbelief, she was embarrassingly aware of her tight, hard nipples and the blood suddenly pumping to her pussy lips in hopeful anticipation.
‘Time’s up,’ grinned Simon, enjoying watching her physical reactions. ‘And just so you’re pre-warned, all of my questions are going to be a lot more personal than yours. Ready?’
Jo nodded, still lacking the capacity to converse but hoping that the ability might return to her shortly.
‘Good. When did you last have sex?’ asked Simon in a self-assured way.
‘Wow,’ breathed Jo. ‘You weren’t kidding about asking personal questions.’
‘Well?’ asked Simon, smiling kindly.
‘When I split up from my husband so ... I don’t know ... over three years ago?’
‘And why haven’t you had sex since then?’
‘Oh God, a multitude of reasons,’ said Jo expansively.
‘Such as?’
‘My body’s not great,’ said Jo quietly.
‘You are kidding me, right?’ said Simon, with an astonished look on his face. ‘You’re beautiful.’ Jo dropped her head in gratitude at his compliment but couldn’t find the right words to respond. ‘What else?’ asked Simon after a moment.
‘I couldn’t just have sex with anybody. It would need to mean something, for me at least.’
‘You’re not the kind of person to sleep around. That’s a very attractive trait.’
‘Yeah, maybe,’ sighed Jo. ‘But it does mean I’m horribly out of practice.’
‘Nothing some time with me wouldn’t fix,’ he chuckled. ‘So, will you stay with me tonight?’
‘No!’ yelped Jo, quite unprepared for such an upfront conversation.
‘I thought you said I shouldn’t be alone,’ smiled Simon.
‘I didn’t mean it like that!’
‘Pity,’ he sighed. ‘If it helps, I grew out of meaningless sex in my twenties. Contrary to popular belief, I’m not a one night stand kind of guy.’
‘You’re... ‘ said Jo, pausing.
‘Yeah?’
‘Younger... ‘
‘A whole year, wow!’ he said jokingly.
‘And clearly you’re much fitter and more experienced than me,’ continued Jo unperturbed. ‘I’d be a disappointment.’
‘Please don’t say that,’ murmured Simon. ‘Nothing about you could disappoint me.’
‘I’d better go,’ said Jo, suddenly standing up and shrugging on her jacket.
‘You could,’ agreed Simon. ‘Although my preference is for you to stay.’
‘And do what?’ stuttered Jo. Simon gave her an old-fashioned look which drove adrenaline around her body at a terrifying speed.
‘What do you think?’ he grinned. ‘I know you’re attracted to me. I can assure you, the feeling’s entirely mutual. I reckon we’d be fantastic together. Don’t you?’
‘I’m sorry,’ said Jo, shaking her head and backing out of the room. ‘I ... I must go. But thank you for dinner.’ As she stood in the hallway and fiddled with her keys, Simon opened the front door.
‘You’re most welcome,’ he smiled. With her heart pumping wildly, Jo dared to glance briefly up into his eyes before she nodded and rushed out of his house. Simon stood calmly and watched her leave. As she got into her car, Jo looked back towards his house to see him raise his hand to wave goodbye and then close the door. Taking a painfully deep breath, Jo closed her eyes and exhaled slowly through pursed lips. Had she just made a magnificently catastrophic mistake?
For close to ten minutes, she sat quietly in her car, wondering how to summon up the courage to do what she desperately wanted to do; return to Simon’s home and allow the activity which he’d been hinting at since they first met to occur. On legs which were barely able to hold her upright, Jo eventually stumbled back across the driveway and knocked quietly on the front door. It was a minute or so before Simon appeared and when he did, it was clear what the delay had been. He was dressed in only his fly-button Levi jeans, torn at the knees, scuffed at the base, holding a towel in his hand. Jo guessed she’d disturbed him getting into the shower.
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