This is a true story and hope you guys like it.I had already been chatting with a much more mature lady (around 46) at that time. She was Indian and was in a private firm supposedly in a senior position. What I understood from the chat sessions though was that she was as open minded about meeting someone discreetly as I was. Once a business trip to NYC materialized I quickly made plans to meet up with her for an evening coffee and see how it goes. Though she had shared only a grainy picture with me it was clear she was quite busty and had very long hair. I love women with long hair and her chats were slowly making me crazy for her.We met at a small restaurant/coffee-place. She was about 5’6, dressed in business formals with a skirt till just below knees, white shirt and jacket. Her breasts were protruding and inviting. With long hair layered down to her waist. But there was something familiar about her perfume, strong and sensual and I knew what it was coz it used to be my favorite.. " She enunciates slowly, waving her arm towards the crowd when she reaches the word "man".The bartender places a mint julep on the counter in front of me."I don't want to use a man just to get alcohol. Plus, this one was free. The bartender told me it was on the house."She squints at me suspiciously. "The only time a bartender gives you a drink on the house is if you look like a big tipper or they want to jump your bones. I don't think she's a lesbian, and you don't scream big bucks. That is weird."I give her a playful shove, nearly sending her tumbling into Mr. Smart Shoes, who is still sitting next to me. One incendiary glare later, he picks up his drink and begins to stalk the periphery of the dance floor."I don't think he likes you much." I tend to have that effect on people." I woefully sip my drink. "Jason is my latest victim." Jason? The dog groomer?" Yep. He asked me to go out tonight." I take a big gulp from my glass to block out the shame I feel for brushing him off."And I.
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