What follows is a story, but it was inspired by events described to me by a girlfriend whom I dated many years ago. I have never forgotten either.
All the participants are adults over the age of eighteen years. None of the characters depicted are real; any similarity to real places or people, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Please comment and score. Any constructive criticism, positive or negative, is welcome.
As always, any errors in editing are mine and mine alone.
As I sometimes do, I have included endnotes which both explain the background to this story and some of the colloquial English terms which I have used, and non-British readers may not understand. Ordinarily, I advise folk to skip the endnotes if they wish, but on this occasion, I advise reading the first note concerning R vs Collins, a UK criminal law case, because it is relevant to this story, and proves that truth can be stranger than fiction, and equally amusing.
Blind date
What I am about to describe happened several years ago when I lived in Lancaster. I was brought up in the city but moved to Liverpool after leaving school. I had recently returned to Lancaster because my widowed mother had recently undergone back surgery and needed somebody around while she recovered. It was not altruism that had persuaded me to return home, but convenience.
I had been living and working in a bank in Liverpool for six years and saving money to travel. I now had enough and decided it was time to go. In a few months, once my mother was better, I was off. In the meantime, I would work as a shop assistant in a supermarket in Lancaster, live at home with my mother, look after her, and save a little more money. My mother was not charging me any rent, after all.
Returning to Lancaster was strange. It was a quiet place after Liverpool, and few of my school friends were still about, and those who were, were married with young children. J had remained unmarried and was unattached, having finished with my girlfriend the previous month. I was not looking for anyone new since I anticipated leaving the city within a few months. It was July, and I anticipated being long gone by the autumn.
***
The morning I met Sally, I was jogging in Williamson Park. It was early on a Saturday morning, and the sun was low on the horizon. Despite the hour, I was not alone; several other runners had the same idea of avoiding the heat, which would arrive a little later. As I rounded the Ashton memorial, I spotted a female figure running about a hundred yards ahead of me. I was slowly gaining on her, and soon I was able to appreciate her figure as she ran. She was wearing red shorts and a white T-shirt, and her long, strong, muscular legs reached up to her big round arse, which stuck to her shorts and swayed from side to side as she ran. The sight was erotic and almost indecent.
I slowed slightly to enjoy the view a little longer and stayed about twenty yards behind her for a minute or two. She must have heard me, because she glanced behind herself for a moment, and I thought I recognised her, although I couldn't be sure.
She looked a lot like Mrs Chapel, the mother of an old schoolfriend, Mathew. Mrs Chapel was a MILF who had Andrew when she was only eighteen years old and was three years shy of forty years old when he and I were in our last year at school. Her husband had been a soldier and had died in Iraq when Mathew was five years old, and she was a widow. She was an infant schoolteacher who taught in a local primary school. I had had a hopeless teenage crush on her and fancied her like fuck. Many was the time I had held my prick in my hand and wanked as I thought of her,
In my mind, I quickly did some sums. It had been six years since I had seen her, and she would now be forty-three. Still eminently fuckable, I thought.
I was now curious and picked up my pace. I caught up with the lady jogger after no more than thirty seconds, and as I passed by, I glanced across at her. I saw a twenty-odd-year-old woman with curly black hair and blue eyes. She was very pretty, and looked a lot like Mrs Chapel, but it certainly wasn't her, and I ran on.
Then a voice called after me.
"Mikey,...Mikey, is that you? "
I slowed to a halt, turned, and continued to run slowly on the spot. Seconds later, the young lady caught up with me and slowed to a complete stop. I could immediately see that she was not just pretty bur she had a good figure, well rounded with big boobs, perfect thighs, and a big bum.
As I looked at her inquisitively, something about her reminded me of somebody, but I couldn't remember who she might be,
She smiled.
"You don't remember me, do you? I'm Sally. I'm Mathews' sister."
Suddenly, it all came back to me. Mathew had a sister. She was around thirteen when I left Lancaster, and I had never thought much about her since. Mathew had told me that she had a crush on me, but she was a child back then, with braces and glasses.
"Sally," I said. "Wow, you've grown up. I'm sorry I didn't recognise you, but just now, when I first saw you, I thought you looked like your Mum."
"You're not the first person to say that......How are you anyway...... How long has it been?"
"Six years."
By now, I had stopped running.
"How far are you into your exercise?" I asked. "Would you like a coffee when you finish?"
"I can skip the exercise if you can. The Pavilion Café doesn't open until ten, and it's a mile into town, so why don't you come back to ours? There's only Mum and me at home, and she'll be up and dressed by now."
"OK, why not? Do you still live on Canterbury Avenue?"
"Yes, we do. We can jog back."
***
It took us around ten minutes to reach the house, which was around a mile away. On the way, we conversed. Sally told me that her brother had successfully passed through the army academy at Sandhurst and was now a second lieutenant serving in Cyprus. He had last been home at Christmas. She was studying law at Lancaster University and living at home with her Mum. It was holiday time, and she had a part-time job in a pub.
"It's cheap and Mum hasn't remarried, so we are good company for one another."
"I couldn't wait to leave home and have my independence."
"Nah, my mum is extremely easy-going. More like a sister than a mother.... She never grows up, you'll see when you meet her. Didn't you use to have the hots for her?"
"Where did you get that idea?"
"Matthew told me."
"He told a thirteen-year-old that?"
"Well, I'm not thirteen anymore."
"I can see that."
"Good. Do you have a girlfriend, Mikey?"
"No. Are you thinking of setting me up with your mum?"
"Certainly not. You'd be wasted on her."
She said nothing more, and we jogged on.
***
