A free man after the end of an intense and restrictive two year relationship with a psychopath he'd met through a dating agency, Scott was now pursuing meaningless sexual encounters -- because now he could. He still hadn't learnt. His main hunting grounds were the dating websites.
Scott had met Bridgett online. His profile on the site stated in no uncertain terms his intentions and although Bridgett had insisted on a lengthy preamble to their 'real-life' meeting and issued warnings to the effect that there were no guarantees in life and that she reserved the right to change her mind at any time, she had nonetheless assured him that she only wanted of him what he was prepared to give.
During their long phone conversations in the first few weeks of their meeting online, Scott had more than once brought himself off to the sound of her sweet young voice, hinting at but never actually saying what she was looking forward to doing to him.
Bridgett's directions had brought Scott to the secluded village of Saraton without a hitch and the flawlessness of the journey gave him a confident feeling about the evening to come.
He checked into his bed and breakfast and decided he would rest for a while in his room. He found the imaginatively named Sarah's, as Bridgett had told him he would, next to the gas station at the crossroads in the village centre opposite the Maria and Mary pub (apparently not to be confused with Mary and Maria's Bar & Grill at the other end of the street). This place had a distinctly female feel and it kind of turned him on.
Despite his fears, Sarah's was an unexpectedly modern and luxurious establishment which had been extensively and tastefully refurbished. A pretty red-haired, green eyed local girl 'manned' the reception desk. Her name-badge introduced her as 'Michelle' and she asked for Scott's name and looked for his reservation in a large book that lay open on the desk -- nothing like technology, thought Scott.
As Michelle looked at the book, Scott looked over Michelle (he hoped discretely). He guessed she was about eighteen -- but he could never really tell. Her face was pale and exquisitely delicately freckled. She wore a dark blue denim skirt and a light pink midriff top that opened wide at the front to reveal her black bra and creamy cleavage. Scott's eyes strained to see down her top as she leaned over the book, her red hair cascading over her shoulder and spilling on to the desk around her. He could see that her bra was lacy and sparse, barely covering her milk-white breasts.
He felt a familiar stirring below his belt as his eyes lingered the tops of Michelle's firm young tits and when she turned from the desk to get his room key off the wrack where it hung along with a number of others, his eyes went to where her top ended, and lingered on her shapely midsection and the red G-string that peeped over the top of her skirt.
Scott couldn't see an ounce of fat on her curvaceous hips and he delightedly pictured the contents of skirt and G-string as he saw the arousing curves of her buttocks briefly outlined in the denim. Her legs were bare and flawlessly smooth. She wore a pair of nondescript sandals and their simplicity complimented the gorgeous silky white exposed flesh that disappeared up into her skirt a tantalisingly short distance before the nubile pubic mound and its alluring covering of soft red curls that no man who set eyes on this teenage delight could fail to picture.
Michelle evidently missed the more intense of Scott's lingering visual appraisal and flirted gratuitously with him as she handed him his keys and gave him instructions on arriving 'home' after the front door was closed and when breakfast was served. He wondered what time she knocked off work on the bed and breakfast reception and whether she had anything to do at that point - you should always have a backup plan.
He also wondered if she was a virgin.
With tension in his trousers and lurid fantasies in his head, Scott headed to his room and after the most cursory of inspections fell on to the bed and sent a text message to Bridgett. Arrived safe and sound, See you at the M&M (I know...not 2 b confused with M&M's! J) at 8. x.
A short while later, the reply came, Cool, glad u made it safe and sound, see you tonight! Cunt wait. X x.
Cunt wait? He thought, his cock hardening as he lay on the bed. Cunt wait? What kind of a typo was that? What kind of a girl was this?! He had a feeling it would be a good night.
He dozed for an hour or two and left for the pub just before eight.
He was first to the bar that evening and he was cheerfully served a pint by another pretty red-headed barmaid who could have easily been Michelle's elder sister. Dressed in a similar short denim skirt and sandals to Michelle, the barmaid displayed her gorgeous midriff and ample cleavage in a low-cut black top, similar in design to the pink one Michelle had been wearing though it was skimpier and exposed more of her midsection.
Attracted by the girl's revealing clothing and accommodating smile -- you could never have enough contingency plans - Scott considered keeping her company while he waited for Bridgett to appear. At the last minute he decided against it, worried it might affect his chances with Bridgett herself.
He retreated with his pint to a table in a corner next to the window -- rejecting a table in the corner near the back of the bar as it appeared too dark to him and he felt it might give the impression he was some kind of creepy pervert.
He didn't have long to wait before Bridgett showed up -- a few minutes earlier than their agreed meeting time -- and when he set eyes on her, he was glad he'd not taken the risk with the bar girl.
He saw her before she saw him and watched her as she walked to the bar, bought a glass of red wine then looked around. She spotted him observing her and smiled shyly in greeting. She wore an elegant pair of black shoes only slightly raised at the heels -- Scott was glad, he didn't fancy heels the way other men seemed to -- and her legs were bare, pale and as flawlessly smooth as Michelle's and the bar girl's.
About her waist was a tiny black skirt around the top of which she war a thin black belt decorated with small silver studs. Her breasts were barely concealed by minute highly-revealing black midriff top-come-bra that narrowed in the small of her back and was held together there by a short zipper. The front of the top narrowed slightly in the middle to expose some of her cleavage and no bra straps were visible over her bare shoulders.
Bridgett's skin was silky white and unblemished, in keeping with the village theme, thought Scott. Her hair was jet black and cut simply but stylishly shoulder-length. She looked younger and in all ways better than the photographs she'd sent him.
She appeared not to be wearing any lipstick yet her lips were an alluring youthful pink and her cheeks pale with the faintest tinge of rosy red. Her body was perfectly proportioned, her hips widening beautifully and her bottom clearly outlined under the tightly stretched fabric of her skirt.
It made Scott hard just watching her move as she approached him across the floor. Here was a true sex goddess. Everything about her suggested sexual allure and erotic lust. Finally laying eyes on her after weeks of phone-calls and emails, he guessed she must be about eighteen -- but he could never really tell.
As she neared his table, he rose to greet her. She put a hand on his shoulder and kissed him on the cheek -- sensuously. The evening was off to a good start.
After the moderate pain of greetings, they sat at the table with their drinks and Scott began, "Good day?".
"OK," she replied. "I was almost late, we had a crowd of customers turn up in the shop, just when I was about to close up for the day." Then she added blushing a little, "Oh, I'm sorry, you found the place alright and everything? So rude of me not to ask!"
"It's fine," said Scott reassuringly. "It was all down to the good directions," he added with a smile.
