This is my first attempt at a short story. Constructive criticism is welcome!
Maggie - Part 1
All events described here are fictional. All characters in this story are over 18 years of age. All characters are fictional. Any resemblance to any actual person, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
It was my second date with Maggie. We’d been introduced by a mutual friend. Our first date was wonderful – great conversation over drinks and dinner that moved to dessert and a heavy make-out session. With some reluctance (and a serious hard-on in my pants) we bid each other goodnight, with a promise to meet again soon. Soon turned out to be about a week later…
A bit about both of us – I’m in my early 50s; tall with an average build. Clean shaven, including my head (a battle I began losing in my early 40s and finally gave up about 5 years ago). I haven’t been so forward as to ask Maggie’s age, but I placed her around 40. She is about 5’-5” – nice body (I would reckon around 130 lbs with a really shapely, round ass) and, while not a fashion model, a pretty face with just enough freckles running across her cheeks and nose to add character. She wore light but, very tasteful make-up and her dark brown hair in a stylish bob.
We had met for tapas and drinks around 7 pm and spent the better part of an hour talking and laughing. A little about my career in sales; a little more about hers in the scorching hot Portland real estate market; but mostly about guilty pleasures in TV, movies, and books. As we finished our second round, she leaned forward:
“Hey, I’ve got a great idea – my condo is only a couple of blocks away and I’ve got a soaking tub with our names on it! What do you say we head back there and get to know each other better?”
“I don’t think I could come up with a better idea if I tried. Let’s go!”
We held hands and chatted during the short walk back to her place – an old medical center that had been turned into lofts about 10 years ago. Walking in, her décor was just as stylish as she; spare and modern.
“Hand me your coat,” she said as she removed her own. She took mine and hung them in a small coat closet.
“Why don’t you fix us some cocktails? You should find whatever you need over there,” as she gestured toward a well-equipped bar, “ I’ll got get the tub ready!”
She kicked off her heels and walked toward the open door of what I assumed was her bedroom.
“What would you like?”
“How about a martini?”
“Gin or vodka?”
“Surprise me!” she said flashing a smile.
As I walked toward the bar, she called “glasses and ice are in the small fridge.”
Appraising the bar, I pulled out bottles of Bombay gin, dry vermouth, orange bitters as well. Quickly stirring together two martinis, I passed on the olives in favor of lemon twists. I could hear water running and figured we’d have a bit of a wait as I poured the drinks into two frozen martini glasses.
“Two martinis,” I announced as I walked through her bedroom into her master bath. The lights were off, but several candles lent a warm glow. Maggie had her back to me, wearing a white bathrobe. She turned and I saw that she hadn’t bothered to tie it. While her breasts were covered, I could easily see the inch-wide landing strip of short pubic hair on her mons. We smiled again as I handed her, her drink.
“Cheers!” she returned as we took sips.
Her eyebrows raised.
“Mmmmm. Did Amy coach you on what to make me?”
“Ha. No, I know gin is riskier, but I prefer it to vodka myself and I thought ‘what the heck’.”
“Well, your stock is certainly rising in my book; I like a vodka martini, but I LOVE a good gin martini! Why don’t you make yourself more comfortable so that we can enjoy a soak.”
I looked at the huge, full tub, as she touched a button on a control panel. A low hum began as some jets started at a low level.
“How in the heck did you fill it this quickly?” I asked as I began removing my clothes.
“I have a few indulgences. I love hot bathes. I imported this soaker from Japan. You wouldn't believe the bells and whistles it has. I actually filled it before I met you and have had it running since. I figured worst-case scenario, I’d get a nice bath after a bad date!”
She dropped her robe and I got my first look at her nude body. I wasn’t disappointed. Her breasts looked like full B-cups, with small dark areolas and pencil-eraser nipples. The freckles on her face were mirrored lightly across the top of her breasts. It was the first time I’d seen her bare legs – they weren’t overly muscular, but they were quite toned, and her ass looked just as good bare as it did wrapped in the pencil skirt she’d worn on our date. She smiled again and stepped over the tall rim and settled into the tub.
“Mmmm. Come in – the water is fabulous!”
I set my martini on a conveniently placed table and began to disrobe. Folding my clothes on a chair, I pulled off my boxers and turned. As I did so, her eyes widened a bit and she spluttered ever-so-slightly into her drink.
She smiled slightly; almost embarrassed.
“Just wonderful. Uh, I’m just pleasantly surprised. You basically have my perfect cock. Big and circumcised! Come here for a minute before you get in…”