Apples and Oranges

I sat down at the computer and went to work. My best guess put her at around 28. She would have been a senior in '94. I key-worded her high school with that year on six different search engines and finally found a David Martin who had graduated from there in '94. I figured she couldn't have been the only Martin in her school.
I got the number of the school library and identified myself to the librarian as David Martin. I told her the sad story of the fire that had destroyed my home and had burned up my prized high school yearbooks. I asked if I could impose on her to scan the pages from my senior year and zip them to me. She was so sorry for my bad luck and would be glad to help. I smiled at the phone as I hung up. It was, I thought, a 3 to 1 shot. I might have missed her age by a year either way but at the track those are the odds on a favorite. 
I made a little lunch of smoked salmon and garlic bread and waited for the little voice to tell me I had mail. 
An hour later I was feeling pretty smug. There she was. Right next door to David Martin's acne peppered mug. A young and very serious Miara Martin, looking out into the future through a pair of glasses. She must have gotten contacts or had lasik. The rest was standard stuff. National Honor Society, debating team, the drama club, the literary magazine, Future Teachers of America. The only unusual bit was that there was nothing listed for sports. This woman was all about her head. 
Knowing I had the year right made her college info a snap to get. The glasses were gone in that photo and there was the bare hint of a smile.

"You must have finally gotten laid." I said aloud, smiling at her photo.

Otherwise it was all academic mentions, Dean's list, graduated summa cum laude and a PBK key. There was still no mention of sports. I doubted she'd had much social life. Nope, my sweet Miara had not been in with the in-crowd.
I was waiting for her at 3:30. I was still waiting almost two hours later. She must have left with someone, I thought. A boyfriend! Why had I blocked out that obvious hurdle?
I had already started the car when she came swinging along and climbed into the Volvo. She was alone.
We were headed right back to her home and I was starting to wonder if today's routine was her whole life. The notion was dispelled when she stopped off at a little roadhouse called 'The Pig and Whistle'. 
I gave her some time before I followed her inside. The place was crowded but I spotted her at the end of the bar. I got a beer and found some open space in front of a dartboard. Even though I had not let my eyes linger, I got the feeling she had recognized me but I couldn't be sure.
I kept my back to her and stalled by tossing the darts. It was time to make contact but I wanted it to seem a random meeting. I was going through the options when I felt a tap on the shoulder. I turned and found she had saved me the trouble. I gave her my best smile.

"Excuse me," she said, "you probably don't remember… but we almost met yesterday."

"I remember." I assured her, "You're the lady who was searching for a perfect orange."

5.

"Yes, that was me." I said, needlessly, “Orange’s are always fooling me. I like to have one with breakfast instead of juice. But if you get a dry one it's so disappointing and it really is hard to tell by just looking at them. They are kind of like books that way. You can't judge them by their cover." 

I realized I was babbling and shut up. His beautiful smile turned sardonic.

"Yes. I know exactly how you feel." he said, "Being fooled by a piece of fruit will ruin anyone's day."

He turned back to the dartboard and after a pause, flew one into the bull's eye. I stood there feeling really silly now. I supposed that having sounded like an anal-retentive fool that I had been dismissed.

"Well, I was leaving when I thought I recognized you. Just wanted to say hello." I said, clumsily trying to extricate myself. 

"Maybe I'll see you around." I finished lamely, backing away. Feeling like an idiot, I turned to leave.

"Sit down." He said it softly but it sounded like a command.

His back was still to me and he was aiming another dart. This stuck me as being rather rude but I sat down anyway. I guess I was just happy to think he hadn't dismissed me as a complete fool. He made another bull's eye. Maybe darts were serious business with him. Then he left the darts in the board and sat down across from me. The beautiful smile was back, and if anything he'd turned it up a few watts.

"You are pretty good with those." I said, indicating the board.

He shrugged the compliment away and continued smiling at me in silence. It was like he was forcing me to carry the conversation. I was tired of making one inane observation after the other. I gave up and just looked back at him.

"Alan Cameron." he said, at last.

"Miara Martin." I replied, extending my hand.

Instead of shaking hands, he encircled my wrist and held it. He beckoned for my other hand as well and when I gave it, he held that wrist also. He was looking down at our hands. I wondered if this was where he would pretend to read my palms or something.

"So," he said, quietly, "Tell me about yourself."

"Like what? There's not much to tell. I teach history at the university. Want an encapsulated version of today's lecture?" 

"No. Start back when you were a little girl in Massachusetts."

It startled me and I would have drawn back but my wrists were still imprisoned. It was odd because he was exerting no pressure and yet I felt as if I was wearing manacles. 

"How do you know that?" I asked.

"Your accent." he said easily.

No one else had ever told me I had an accent. I certainly didn't use a broad 'a' or anything. 

"There's not much to tell there either. A typical childhood in your typical small town." I said, lightly.

"Oh, I don't think you are at all typical, Miara."

His voice had that sexy undertone again and I felt myself blushing at this simple compliment. Having my wrists held all this time was making me feel uncomfortable too but for some reason I made no effort to free myself.

"What about you, Alan? Tell me something." 

"How old were you when you had your first kiss?" he asked, ignoring my question.

"I was sixteen, I think. After my first school dance." I answered, impatiently, "Really, Alan, it's my turn. I'm curious about you now."

"I'm an Aries. Now it's my turn again. How old were you when you gave up your virginity?"

This was too much for me and I jerked my hands back. I pulled back too hard, for though it felt like he was pressing my wrists tightly, he had been barely holding me. It made me feel as though I had over-reacted. 

"Do you always ask women you've just met such personal questions?"

"Never mind. I already know the answer. It happened during your senior year at college. Probably with some guy you were sure was as serious as you were."

The man made me feel as if I was an open book that he could leaf through at will. He was right, damn it. I had been sure that Michael would propose. We had gone together for two years. I stopped there...I never thought about Michael anymore and didn't want to now.

"This is boring me, Alan. I'm not into mind games. I guess I'm going to take off. Nice meeting you."

Stupid me! I stuck my hand out again and he played the same trick with my wrist.

"You are so wrong about yourself, Miara. You are totally into mind games. In fact, I'll bet physical activity bores you to death. You probably never played any sports growing up either. Your mind burns up all of your calories or you'd be fat."

"It's too bad that a good looking guy like yourself hasn't learned that arrogance is not very attractive."

I had hoped to put him in his place. It didn't work, he continued, as if I'd said nothing.

"You do like sex though," he said, "and you'd like to talk about it but you don't know how. When was the last time you got laid, Miara?"

This time I carefully disengaged my hand. I picked up my bag and made it obvious that I was leaving. He smiled disarmingly but made no move to keep me. I was relieved and disappointed at once. My feelings were confused, to say the least. I didn't like being so attracted to a man who seemed to delight in discomfiting me. The hell with it, I thought. I was turning away when he spoke again,

"Let's go out Friday night. I'll promise to be charming and completely humble."

"That would be worth experiencing but I have a date."

"Break it. You'll have more fun with me."

"I can't… but thanks anyway. Maybe we will run into each other again."

"Eight o'clock. Friday night. I'll meet you here." he said.

I started to tell him he'd be wasting his time but just shook my head. I glanced back at the door and found his dazzling smile still on me. 

I drove home wondering if I should take the chance and meet him Friday. I couldn't do it if I wanted to. Jenny would throw a fit.

6.

At half past seven, Friday, the pub was not yet busy and I had no trouble taking the same table. I had to admit that it was a toss up as to whether Miara would show. I had felt her attraction to me but I might have made her too uncomfortable. There was also the date she had mentioned. Was there really a boyfriend or had it been an excuse she'd made up? She had smelled lonely to me.
Either way, thirty minutes would tell. If she were coming, she would be punctual. Teacher's lives revolved with the hands of their watches.
Since our meeting, I had arranged for the evening’s dinner and I had been shopping. I had found an exquisite Florentine choker in 14 carat gold. I had taken it to a goldsmith and had him replace the clasp with a combination tumbler and splice in a small clip ring. I had commissioned him to make me a matching leash in gold as well. He had said a week was absolutely the soonest it might be done. That had sounded just about right to me.
I was on my second Manhattan when she walked in, right on time. I stood up and held her chair. 

"You look stunning." I said, sincerely.

I was sincere. Her long, silky hair was down now. It shimmered around her shoulders. She had chosen a black sheath of elegant simplicity. She wore no jewelry and her make up was light and perfectly applied. As she sat I got a hint of her perfume.

"What made you think I would show up after all?" she asked.

"After you ran out on me, I prayed, and just in case God was busy, I also made a deal with the devil."

"I have been thinking you are the devil." she laughed.

"Is that 'Sicily' you're wearing?"

"Now how would you know that? My Aunt sent it to me. I've looked for it and it is not very common."

"Before I retired, I owned an import-export business. Perfumes were among our items."

"You are young to be retired. I'm impressed."

"Life's a short go. Stopping to enjoy it was an easy choice. Would you like a drink or shall we go? I have great dinner reservations" 

"I can pass the drink. Let's go."

There was no fuss about leaving her car there. I figured it would be safe enough over the weekend. I'd agreed to bring her back to it but I hadn't said when. She didn't 'ooh and ah' over my ride and that impressed me. She did ask where we were going.

"Let it be a surprise. I think you'll like it."

I parked in the private underground garage and led her to the elevator. As we rode up, her curiosity was killing her but she remained silent. When the door opened to the foyer it was obvious that I had brought her to my apartment.

"I had no idea there was a restaurant up here." she said, with a hint of sarcasm.

"It's new. Tonight is the grand opening." 

I led her through the living room and out onto the terrace. The caterer had gotten everything right for once. The table was set on linen for two with globed candles. A uniformed waiter was holding her chair. The trio I had engaged was set up and playing as we walked out. 
After a gasp of surprise, she walked past the single table for two and leaned on the balustrade and let her eyes wander out over the lights. She stood there with her back to me, in silence, for a long moment. I moved up behind her and rested my hands on those soft, bare shoulders.

"This joint seems kind of dead. We can find a livelier one if you like." I whispered in her ear.

"Alan, I just had to get hold of myself. It's wonderful. You must be crazy! Why would you do all this? I almost talked myself out of meeting you."

"I told you, I made a deal with the devil. Come on, sit down, I've heard they serve a mean lobster thermador here."

The dinner was perfect all the way to the peches flambé. I was witty and charming and didn't bully her once. In return she told me all about her childhood, her favorite music, and her pet peeves. We never once touched on history. As we sat with a pair of orange liqueurs, the trio was playing 'Misty' and I asked her to dance.
She moved a little uncertainly at first but once she gave herself over to my lead it was smooth. I called for another bottle of wine and dismissed the help. While she sipped her glass and enjoyed the view, they picked up quietly and slipped out. 
Remembering her mentioning Edith Piaf over dinner, I put on 'La Vie En Rose' and we danced again. She was melting in my arms. Timing is everything with a woman.

"You'll stay." I said.

"Yes." 

In the bedroom she let me undress her. I did it slowly, letting her know I was enjoying it. She stepped out of her pumps and held her hair up for me. I ran the zipper down her back and helped her step out of the sheath. 
I walked her over in front of the full-length mirror and held her gaze through the glass as I unclasped her black lace bra and let it fall away. Her breasts were exactly as I had pictured them. I weighed their fullness as I massaged her nipples to erection. Still holding her eyes, I put my lips to her neck and inhaled her perfume. Her eyes closed then and she put her head back against me. I hooked my thumbs in her panties and kissed my way down her back as I sank to my knees and drew them off. I gave her bottom a tender bite and turned her to me. Her stance widened and she thrust her cunt forward. I buried my face in her and breathed in the smell of her desire. I ran my tongue inside her and she flooded it with nectar.

"The bed." she whispered, “I want your cock inside me."

(Chapters 1 - 6 of 21 chapters.). To be continued...