Chapter 1
"Another scotch?" The bar tender swiped his cloth under my empty glass.
"Sure, why not?" I responded mechanically. My attention was directed not at the drink, or the bartender, but at an attractive woman sitting by herself at a table near the back of the restaurant. I had first spotted her as she was escorted past my location by the hostess. She was shortish, maybe 5'5", and I liked that. She was brunette, and I liked that. Most of all, she was not some lanky, under fed, self-conscious "primper" looking to attract every male eyeball in the place. No, this woman had more confidence than that. She was more comfortable in her person. She walked with her head high, her small but adequate chest proudly puffed out, her step meaningful in its deliberate cadence. Her ass was especially attractive to me in that it was once again not the skinny, diminished hard flat artificially pushed up variety so common on younger women today. This woman's hips were wide with the physical equivalent of the wisdom of age. Her cheeks stood out with pride and ample flesh to be ultimately inviting. They shook slightly with each step she took, precluding the traditional requirement to sway while walking. She was perhaps early 50's, not unlike me, aware of her attractiveness and caring for its continued influence, but not overly so. There was not heavy makeup, no excessive hair treatment, no phony smiles and gratuitous remarks to the hostess. This women was comfortable with herself in every respect but one, and I could not put my finger on it, yet.
"Here you are," The bartender placed the new drink on a fresh napkin and pushed it to me.
I turned my head and thanked him, catching sight in the mirror behind the bar of another prime example of the kind of woman I like, though quite a bit younger than I would normally target. She was sitting when I looked, and I couldn't tell near as much about her, but she too had my kind of assets, soft shoulder length hair, large eyes, and a lush appearing face and body. Playing games with myself as I often do, I projected myself into a choice of the two. They were both more than acceptable, both were in fact delectable. But if I had to choose, I know me and that I would consider the other side of the equation as well. I decided quickly the older of the two would be more comfortable with an older guy and therefore would pick her first. Silly ass, I called myself, I had NO choice of EITHER of them!
The new and younger of the two was a deeper shade of brunette, bordering redhead, very exotic to me, with a very young face and what appeared to be ample breasts. I noticed then that they were a bit lower behind her table than the woman at the other table, and therefore surmised she was in the low to middle five foot range too. She was intently watching something in the direction of the other woman, though a modest wall of plants and trellis separated the two positions. This younger woman too, was alone, and she looked remarkably similar in many respects to the other woman in my sights. Hmmmm…. My mind was wandering already.
Just what the is going on here, I wondered. Two very eligible women, different generations, both good looking and very sexy, one seemingly a time based mirror image of the other, and both alone. I started to consider what I might do to remedy that problem, for at least one of them.
I glanced back at the woman my age and took a sip of my drink. I am not a big drinker, and usually don't imbibe at all, but this night was a bit special for me. I had closed a large contract that day and was not able to fly home to New York until the next morning so I was giving myself a little celebration. The hotel was right next door to this restaurant and I had decided to take my time, have a drink, and then enjoy a nice dinner, albeit alone, and then check in to the hotel for a good night's rest. I was just nearing the completion of the first phase when I noticed the black man standing at the hostess' station. He was very tall, maybe six feet four inches, broad in shoulders, and quite handsome if I could be any judge. He seemed out of place, there being no other race colors represented in the lounge or the dining area of this good ol' American white restaurant.
I looked away as the hostess met up with him and figured I would try something out of character and probably stupid. I was going to ask that woman if she would let me buy her dinner.
"What do I owe you," I asked the bartender reaching into a front pocket for my cash.
"Ten, fifty," He said after looking at my chit.
I dropped thirteen bucks on the counter and rose to take the plunge. I stopped dead in my tracks however, when I turned to face the woman's direction. The black man was leaning way down to lend her some help in kissing him on the cheek.
I thought maybe my eyes were deceiving me. Forget the race differences, this was my fetish in spades! I loved short women! This was a short woman compared to me! This woman was an ant compared to the big black guy holding her chair now! That lucky son-of-a-bitch, I thought.
I fell back in my stool and my jaw hung down. As if in a daze, I let my head swivel to avoid eye contact with the surprise couple, while continuing to try to sort out what had just happened. "Perfect look, shape and size woman walks by to table alone," I considered." I get up courage to go ask her for dinner, and some huge black stud wanders in and takes over before I get out of the box. What kind luck is THAT!"
And as if that were not enough stimulus to get my brain racking, my gaze fell automatically on the other single female dinner guest sitting beside the flowered panel. To my utter amazement, her jaw was just as gaping as mine, while she looked through the flowers at what I could only surmise was the other woman. What in the world was happening here? Were they connected?
The black man sat down with the older woman and they began to talk over menu's. I looked back at the younger woman and she simply stared at them, jaw still down, nothing in her hands, and seemingly straining to hear what obviously was far too far away.
The black man was saying something to the woman when suddenly the woman blushed visibly. She was uncomfortable, but I surmised in a way she wanted to be. This was obvious as one of her two hands that had moved to her mouth in some kind of show of embarrassment or surprise, suddenly moved to one of his hands, and rested on it. She then smiled at him, batted her eyes once or twice, and then looked down at what could only be her chest before looking again at the menu. Somehow, I could tell the menu was the last thing on her mind.
I glanced back at the younger image. I tried to look beyond her similarities with the other woman and finally noticed her apparel. Wearing a turquoise, silky, front buttoning blouse, and who knows what for a bottom, she stood out like a neon light at the table. Her hair was glistening, and I noticed now in different light that the other lady was as much red as brown too. Were these two related? The possibilities were racing through my mind.
Younger woman was still fixated on the targets at the other table, and ignoring the waiter standing beside her. Finally, she looked quickly up at him, said something abruptly, and motioned him away with the flick of her wrist. He didn't look too happy at the dismissal.
I had an inspiration. This girl, and to me an older man she was still a girl, was overly involved with thoughts of something to do with the other couple. Maybe she would be either receptive, or distracted enough to entertain a polite pass at conversation from me. I wasn't even thinking about trying to get anywhere with this lovely young lady, at least on the surface, but I sure was piqued in wanting to know what this was all about. I decided to give it a try.
Checking to see that my money was still on the bar in payment of my drinks, I ventured to her table. "Pardon me, and I have no right to ask you to do so, but something tells me that, well, you might make interesting conversation for a dinner I would love to buy for both of us."
