It was her eyes which first attracted me to Wendy. They were light blue, the colour of a radiant sky. When she looked at you with them you could not refuse her her bidding. It was in this powerless situation which I found myself when I went for a night on the town all by myself.
My friends, Adrian and David, cried off sick, so what had started out as an evening out with the lads quickly became a solo project. I was still determined to have a good time, but come the end of the night, in a local disco, it looked as though solace was to bring me no joy.
It was then I bumped into Wendy. Although she was three years younger than me, at 19, I knew her quite well through her friendship with my sister, who was the same age. As a kid she had been gawky, but she still had those blue pools for eyes. When her body filled out, not even her pert figure could draw attention away from those mesmerising eyes.
Now, in the flush of adolescence and at her physical prime she looked more radiant than ever. Her strict training regime - which she described as gym three times a week, no junk food and plenty of sex - had kept her in superb shape.
Her tight white top accentuated the smooth curves of her chest and waist, and as was the style her top left a narrow strip of tanned stomach exposed before the rest of her body disappeared beneath a pair of tight black hipsters which done their job of highlighting her tight firm bottom and of course those oh-so-sexy knicker lines.
As I started talking to her I felt like the snowball taking a chance in hell, but as our conversation continued I began to wonder whether she wanted to play ball with me instead. When her petite hands began to stroke my knee I decided to throw caution to the wind and use every ounce of my charm to get this young woman into bed.
With the end of the music quickly approaching I suggested to Wendy that we leave early to avoid the crowds. She agreed and went on to ask a question which I never thought such a 'sweet' girl would have spoken. "Where do you want to fuck. My place or yours?"
I stood agog for a moment before spluttering out the only line I could think of - "How about yours?" Wendy could detect my astonishment at her vulgarity and she laughed as I responded to her question.
Her job as a beautician gave the young lady plenty of disposable income and she had managed to find herself a flat only ten minutes from the nightclub, which was untroubled by noisy or drunken passers-by.
She entered the flat first and quickly pulled me in from the corridor to deliver a full mouthed French kiss. We stood holding each other for a few seconds, me running my hands over her back and hips. When she broke off the kiss there occurred a strange and awkward silence in which Wendy looked forlornly around the room before pointing to the couch and telling me to sit down.
I thought we were in for a bit of heavy petting, but Wendy had moved past that stage. She abandoned me momentarily and went into the bedroom. She emerged a minute later clutching something behind her back. She came over to the couch, sat down beside me and spoke.
"I'm afraid I have a confession to make, Alan. I've fancied you like mad ever since I found out what sex was. Whenever I used to call over to your sisters house I used to hope that you were there. Does that sound strange?" She didn't give me time to reply. "Well what if I was to tell you that I have not had a boyfriend now for four months, and that sometimes I fantasise about what it would be like for you to fuck me."
"The point I'm trying to make is that I've brought you this far for a purpose. I want to have sex with you. I want to feel what I've been dreaming about, and I want you to love it too."