Going into the date I had no expectations. I had been on many "web" dates in the past so I knew enough not to hope for too much no matter what my date looked like in her profile pictures. I had met girls for whom the phrase "Average Build" might have been average in their circle of friends, but in my world they were grossly overweight, and I have met those for whom the term "Curvy" apparently made reference to the number of rolls between their ribcage and their waist. I even met one girl who might have been pretty but she was missing a front tooth, and another gal that had used someone else's picture entirely. The picture she posted looked like Jane Seymour but she looked more like Mamma Cass in real life. Don't get me wrong, I met more than a few nice girls along the way, but I had known enough disappointments to know that I should not to be too optimistic.
For those of you who might be considering web dating avoid girls who post "glamour shots" at all cost. They will never look like that again, if they ever did! Still, web dating was fun, it got me out of the house, and I have made a few friends of the women I have met along the way. I just hadn't met "the one". So as I walked in the door of the restaurant I wasn't hoping for more than a couple of hours of pleasant conversation.
As usual, I arrived at the restaurant twenty minutes early to be sure I was there when my date arrived. I tipped the hostess and she assured me she would seat my date and I at a secluded table. The restaurant itself was perfect: quiet, dark, and it had a reputation for having wait staff who knew enough to be unobtrusive.
I don't know about you, but I have just about had enough of perky waiters and waitresses who want to be your friend for the evening. To me the less involvement you have with them the better. Don't ask me if I need more water, just fill the glass. Don't interrupt me when I am talking to my companion. And, most of all, don't come by every five minutes to see if "everything is okay". It is! If it wasn't, Buffy, or Sparky, or whatever your name is, you would know already!
Rather than go to the table I always prefer to remain at the front door and wait for my date there. I didn't have to wait long before my phone buzzed on my hip with a new text message, "I'm here! Where are you?" I responded that I would meet her outside.
When Molly walked up I was pleasantly surprised. She looked pretty much the same as she did in the pictures she had posted in her online dating profile. She was blonde, slender (Yea!!), and dressed in a conservative yet flattering manner: black tailored pants, high heels, and a white silky blouse that plunged just enough to show a hint of cleavage. In spite of the fact I could instantly see that she wore little or no makeup I was immediately taken with her looks. She was one of those lucky few women who, at forty plus years of age, could look as good with, or without, makeup. There was not a line in her face, her complexion was flawless, and only when she smiled at me could I see any evidence of her age at all. We hugged briefly, exchanged pleasantries, and then we made our way into the restaurant. As I followed Molly inside I was able to check her out from behind and the view did not disappoint. While not a "bubble butt" her ass was one I immediately knew would look amazing if she were on all fours. But I digress...
Dinner was nice. The meal itself, if not outstanding, was memorable enough that I knew I would come back to this restaurant in the future if only for the atmosphere. But, I hardly noticed dinner. My attention was completely on Molly. From the moment we sat down we talked as comfortably as old friends. As we became more comfortable with each other she asked me some pretty tough questions about my past, my divorce, etc., but she did so in such a manner that I never felt like I was on the spot. It seemed as though the more I opened up to her the more I wanted to. I told her things I have never told anyone, let alone on a first date. To be honest I thought at one point I was completely blowing it and I clammed up for a while. I think Molly sensed that and she began to talk more about herself. Molly was just as forthcoming with me as I was with her, and by the time dessert was served it seemed I knew as much about her as I did my ex wife, and I had been married to her for years.
When dinner was over and we walked back outside I thought the date was over. To my surprise Molly suggested we get a drink at the wine bar a few doors up the street. My response was an immediate, "Absolutely!" and I took her hand for the very first time. She looked at me and smiled a coy smile I will never forget.
Sitting on a big leather sofa in a quiet corner of the wine bar the chemistry Molly and I had enjoyed over dinner continued to grow; only now there was an intimacy to it that was possible only because we were sitting so closely. Being only a few inches away from each other we were able to look more deeply into each other's eyes than before, and the incidental body contact between us served only as a catalyst for the feelings that were beginning to develop inside of me. Molly, I was happy to discover, was amazing. As the evening progressed I desperately wanted to kiss her. I could only hope she felt the same way.
Unlike many men my age there is still something of a little boy inside of me when it comes to girls, and it was no different with Molly. As we approached her car at the end of the evening the butterflies I felt in anticipation of what I hoped would be our first kiss were beating a staccato rhythm in my stomach. My heart was pounding slightly in my chest, and I felt more than a little short of breath. But there was no awkwardness to the moment at all, mostly due to Molly. As soon as she turned towards me after opening her car door she leaned in and gave me a light but meaningful kiss. That kiss quickly turned into second, deeper kiss, and in moments she melted into me as my arms pulled her close. The passion I felt welling up inside of me seemed to be echoed in Molly. I could feel her breathing become as labored as my own and she moaned into my mouth as I ardently pressed the kiss.
When we finally pulled back and broke the kiss, still somewhat out of breath Molly gasped, "We have to get out of here!"
"Where?" I asked.
"Follow me," she said with a wink and she jumped into her car.
