by Robin Roseau
“All right. Tell me what you were like as a little girl.”
* * * *
We had a nice time, and we held hands for the walk back to her car. She tried to release as we approached her car, but I tucked her hand in my arm and tugged her to the passenger door. “Answer me honestly: right now, do you hope for more dates?”
“Yes.”
“Then kiss me before I get back in your car.”
She smiled, brushed my hair away, and then used that hand to pull me closer. We met, and I closed my eyes well before our lips met.
It was a sweet kiss, but when it was over, I clung to her for a minute. “Thank you,” I whispered.
“Oh, Astrid,” she replied.
“Take me home with you.”
She nodded, and I let her hand me into her car.
* * * *
We drove in silence. I watched her the entire time. She looked over once or twice, but primarily she focused on the drive. She pulled into her garage and killed the engine, then she stared straight ahead.
“Is everything all right?” I asked.
She turned to me. “Yes.” Her voice sounded a little rough.
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.”
“All right then.” And with that, we both climbed from her car.
We didn’t hold hands. We entered through the kitchen, setting our things on the counter, and then I received a mini tour. “Would you like something to drink?”
“Maybe later,” I said. “Let’s sit.” I took the couch but gestured to a chair. I wanted a little room. She sat where I indicated. Then I stared at her for a while.
“Astrid, we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”
I nodded. “You asked about my family. I can’t answer that without also explaining my situation.” And so, I did, taking only a few minutes. Roma sat quietly, saying little, but her lips tightened a few times. That was her only reaction.
I finished and said, “I decided that I’m not doing anything I don’t want to do. I’m here with you, and I want to be. Maybe you’ll help me; maybe you won’t. I’m not going to ask. I’m certainly not going to present some sort of price sheet. If you like me and want to keep seeing me, I’d like that. If you give me money to help pay for school, I’ll say thank you. If you don’t, I’d still like to see you, but at least until summer, I only can afford a few nights a week, and I’ll be sharing them with people who can help make sure I attend school next year.”
I turned away. “God, I sound like a bitch.”
“No, Astrid,” she said gently. “You sound like someone making the best decisions she can.”
I turned back. It took effort, but I put a little stiffness in my spine. “When we’re together, I’m going to think of you as my girlfriend, and act accordingly. Is that all right?”
“That sounds lovely.”
“Do you know what you want?”
“For starters,” she said. “I’d like to join you on the sofa, if I won’t scare you.”
“I was hoping you would,” I said, patting the cushion. She didn’t require more invitation than that, shifting around until we were seated together. I leaned against her, and she put her arm around my shoulder. I turned towards her and snuggled in further. “I’m new at this.”
“So we’ve determined.”
“I know I’m supposed to figure out what you want, and then be that person.”
“I want you to be yourself, Astrid.”
“I can guess what you want, but I don’t know, Roma. Will you tell me?”
She leaned over and kissed my forehead. “I want you, Astrid.”
“I read a lot.”
She laughed. “Okay,” she said slowly. “Interesting segue.”
“According to the books I’ve read, some women hate sharing their beds. It’s sex, then send her home.”
She laughed again. “I’ve known a few like that.”
“Some like to cuddle afterwards, and love waking up next to someone.”
“I’ve known a few like that, too.”
“Which type are you?”
“The second.”
“So are you inviting me for breakfast?”
She laughed again. “Yes, if you think you’d like that.”
“You’ll have to show me what you like,” I said.
“And will you show me what you like?”
“Maybe you’ll help me figure that part out.”
“I can do that.”
* * * *
We spent a few minutes kissing and touching before Roma slipped from the sofa and pulled me to my feet. We held hands for the walk to her bedroom. Inside, we turned to each other, staring into each other’s eyes.
“Are you sure this is what you want?” she asked.
“I’m sure,” I said. I moved into her and wrapped my arms around her waist. “You’ll be gentle.”
“Absolutely.”
We kissed, and then I turned around, presenting her my back. “Will you help me?”
Her hands found the zipper. She unzipped me slowly. I looked over my shoulder at her, smiling, then wriggled as she worked the dress down my body. She set it aside, and when she turned, I was right there. My hands went to her buttons, and she watched me as I unbuttoned.
I saw to the buttons, but then she captured my hands. “I’m old.”
“You’re older than I am,” I said. “You’re not old. Are you telling me you want me to stop?”
She offered a little groan. “I don’t know what I want.”
I smiled. “You may touch me anywhere your own skin is bare.”
She laughed then took my hand and pulled me to the bed. I followed her, and we found ourselves lying on the bed. We smiled, then we kissed sweetly for a while, my hand on her hip, hers on my cheek.
We kissed, and then she pushed on my shoulder, rolling me onto my back, before climbing atop me. I let her, and I wriggled a little when she kissed me again. Then she put her mouth near my ear. “How much experience have you had?”
“I’m not a virgin,” I whispered back. “I’ve done the basics, but not really more than that. You’ll probably have to teach me.”
“Are you just being coy, Astrid?”
“No.”
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m good, Roma. I’m where I want to be. But I was serious when I said you may only touch me where you’re naked.”
She laughed lightly then leaned up. I watched as she stripped off her blouse and then her bra, tossing both aside. I smiled up at her. She looked at me uncertainly. And so, I worked my way up, wrapping arms around her, until I could take one petite breast in my mouth.
She hissed, but then she wrapped an arm around my head, pulling me tightly against her. “Oh, god, Astrid.”
I gave her attention, and I ignored her hand as she went to work on my bra.
She had to pull away from me to pull my panties down, but then I waved a finger at her. She laughed, and it took her another minute before she lay atop me again, now both of us entirely naked.
We kissed. We touched. Then she said, “Close your eyes now. Do I have permission to do more?”
“Yes,” I whispered, closing.
She touched. Her hand slipped down, and then she began stroking there. I gave a little gasp and a moan.
She made love to me, slowly and gently, whispering much of the time. When I came, I came hard, crying out several times and panting heavily besides before crashing back to the bed, still panting, my hand over hers now, pressing her into me, stilling her fingers.
“My sweet girl,” she whispered. “My sweet girl.”
* * * *
I slept, her arms around me. Then I rolled to face her, and her eyes were open, watching me. “Did I wake you?” I whispered.
“I probably woke you,” she replied.
“What time is it?”
“I don’t know. Two, maybe?”
“You’re awake,” I said. “And I’m awake. And
if I’m not mistaken, we’re both still naked.”
“We are,” she confirmed.
“Teach me what you like.”
She did.
* * * *
We made love again in the morning, her first this time, then me again. It felt really good, and when we lay together, both staring at the ceiling and panting, I reached over and took her hand.
“Thank you, Roma,” I said.
“I should be thanking you.”
“I hope you want to continue to see me.”
“I won’t be able to keep you exclusively,” she said. “I wish I could.”
I rolled to face her, then even closer, laying my head on her shoulder and setting one arm across her. “I’m new at this, and I don’t know what the future offers.”
“Fair enough,” she replied.
“You didn’t actually answer. Do you want to continue to see me?”
“Yes.” She stroked my arm. “Very much.”
“Then this is what we’re going to do. When you call and invite me out, you’re also offering to help me with my expenses. But I’m free to call you, and then the only obligation is that you pay for whatever we’re doing. I’ll probably just call and say, ‘I want to see you,’ and you may decide what we’re actually doing. How does that sound?”
“That sounds really good,” she whispered.
“If someone offers an exclusive relationship, and I like her, I’ll probably take it. And I’ll have to see other people.”
“I know,” she replied. She leaned over and kissed my forehead. “Can we stay a little longer, just like this.”
“Not quite,” I said. I moved my hand until I was cupping one breast. “But how about like this?”
She set her hand over mine. “I like your improvement.”
Dating
In her car, Roma gave me an envelope, closing my hands around it. Without investigating the contents, I thanked her. Then, in somewhat of a daze, I headed upstairs. Maggie was in the lounge. I caught her eye and simply made a head gesture down the hall. She excused herself and followed after me.
We went to my room. Honey wasn’t there, so I invited Maggie in. “Well?” she asked.
“I got lucky.”
She laughed. “How was it?”
“It was good,” I said. I handed her the envelope. I still hadn’t looked in it.
She didn’t ask but simply opened it and looked inside. Then she counted it. There were five, crisp, 100-dollar bills. Maggie grinned at me then handed it back. “Well, it appears she thought it was good, too.”
“I guess so. She said she couldn’t do that every week. Maggie, I really like her.”
She waved a finger at me. “No falling in love!”
“I’m not falling in love.”
“You’re sleep deprived, and after Friday night’s debacle, someone nice to you could easily sweep you away.”
“I’m not falling in love,” I reasserted.
She cocked her head then said, “Well, this is a lot easier if you like her.”
“Oh, yeah,” I said.
“So, did you want to talk about it, or do you want me to encourage you to study?”
“Shower first, then study.”
“All right. Go shower, and then we can have a study date.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
* * * *
Things moved quickly after that. In short order, I had six more first dates. Two of them expected to take me to dinner then back to her place to get naked. The sad part of that was one of them was really quite attractive, and if she’d been just a little patient, she’d have gotten what she wanted.
The other was actually nice about it. I wouldn’t let her drive me home, but she insisted on seeing me safely to my Uber. Then she pressed an envelope into my hands.
“No,” I said, trying to give it back.
“Take it,” she replied, pushing my hands back towards me. “Call it taxi money if you want to.”
“You don’t have to do this.”
“This is how it works, Astrid.”
I looked down. “Thank you, Annie.”
“You’re welcome.” She kissed my cheek and gave me a little caress. “You’re very lovely. Go now.” She handed me into the car. As we pulled away, I turned around. She was watching me, and I thought about what it took for her to be that gracious.
I’m not telling all these exactly in order, but let’s not worry about that detail. For the third of these women, I flat out didn’t like her. She spent half our time checking her phone. I thought she was rude to the waiter. And she made a few rather dismissive comments besides. In a way, I was a coward. I thanked her for the date, kissed her cheek, and then walked away from her. Then I sent Jean a note, telling her it wasn’t an emergency, but asking her to call me. My phone rang a half hour later.
“I thought you’d call tomorrow.”
“Is it too late?” she asked.
“No, and I’m alone. I had a date tonight.”
“I know.”
“I don’t want to see her again.”
“Then you don’t have to,” Jean said. “Did something happen?”
“No. I just don’t like her.”
“Will you explain why not?”
“Do I have to?”
“No, but I wish you would.”
So I did, figuring it out myself. Jean made encouraging noises, so I told her as much as I could. Then I grew quiet.
“The word you’re looking for is ‘judgmental’.”
“You’re right,” I said. “It is.”
“I’ll take care of this for you.”
“Thank you.”
“If.”
“If?”
“If you do something for me.”
“All right,” I said slowly. “What?”
“Are you near your computer? I want to send you a link.”
“I can be.” I got off my bed where I’d been studying and sat down at my desk. By the time I woke my laptop, an email had arrived from her. It was a link to a profile on Gentle Affection. I clicked through and then skimmed the profile. “Okay,” I said. “What’s the favor?”
“She’s new,” Jean said. “She needs an awesome first date.”
“Did she ask for me?”
“No. She’s trying to make a rather significant mistake.”
“What sort of mistake?”
“She seems to gravitate towards the girls who are rather more predatory.”
“Oh.” I thought about the implications. “That’s basically my side of my experience with Fanny.”
“Pretty much,” Jean said.
“I don’t want to trade favors like this, Jean. Do we have to tie them together?”
“No, Astrid. Are you turning me down?”
“No. I just don’t want a habit of tit for tat, or however you want to put it. I don’t want to worry I owe you if I need something, or you owe me if you need something.”
“I’m sorry. You’re right. I’ve been dealing with too many predators lately.”
“So. You’ll take care of me. What do you want me to do about this woman?”
“Her name is Eliza,” Jean said. “I want to treat this like a blind date.”
“You’re going to make the arrangements?”
“Yes.”
“But she’ll know she’s meeting me. I’m not going to respond well if she’s expecting someone more attractive than I am.”
“Yes. Tuesday afternoon. It will be coffee, but if you like her, I want you to ask her to take you to dinner. I don’t want you asking for money.”
“I never ask for more than Uber money,” I said. Never? Yeah, because a few dates established a pattern. But it was the word I used, and it was a policy I would stick to on first dates.
“I’ll pay your Uber bill for this,” Jean said.
“You, personally, or you, Gentle Affection.”
“Well, Gentle Affection,” she clarified.
“Okay,” I said. “Sure. I’v
e been meeting people at the Mall of America. It’s easy to reach, and we can wander the shops afterwards.” I had to explain about the Mall. She’d heard of it, but she’d never been, and I wanted to be sure she knew which Caribou to use. “And I want her number so I can send her a photo of what I’m wearing.”
“If she agrees, I’ll make sure you both have numbers.”
“Okay. Good.”
* * * *
I don’t know if Eliza was upset about meeting me instead of one of the other girls, but Jean confirmed Tuesday at 3:30 and sent me a phone number. I dressed and sent my selfie while I was on the way.
I stood outside the Caribou for ten minutes before my phone buzzed. Am I being stood up?
I was beginning to wonder the same thing. Are we at different Caribous? Then I took a couple of photos and forwarded them.
Yes. Five minutes. OMW.
I think she saw me first, as I didn’t positively identify her until a rather harried-looking woman came to a stop facing me. She was shorter than I was, dressed in a business suit, her hair styled but slightly unkempt. She was carrying a little extra weight, but I thought she had a nice figure. I smiled. “Eliza?”
“Astrid. I’m sorry.”
“Jean’s never been here,” I said. “I tried to explain which one.”
“It’s my fault. She told me the Caribou, and I ignored everything else she said. I just went to the one I always use.”
“This one is biggest and has more room,” I said. “But we can go to the other one if you want.”
“No, no,” she said. “We’re here. So how does this work?”
“Well,” I said. “We step inside. I tell you that I would like an espresso, no whip. You talk to the woman inside.”
“You’re a smart ass.”
“I like to hold hands,” I declared.
She looked me up and down. “You want to hold my hand.” She made it a statement and a question at the same time.
“If you don’t like PDA, we don’t have to,” I said. “But it’s a date, and I prefer to treat it like one. Unless it’s not a date after all.”
“What else would it be?”
“I haven’t had this happen, but some people are looking for daughters or even granddaughters,” I said. But I held my hand out. She looked down at it then slowly took it in hers. I smiled broadly and tugged her towards the Caribou.
It took a minute to reach the barista. Eliza ordered a coffee then said, “You wanted a mocha, whole milk, extra whip.”