The Captain by Trixie de Winter

 
     
     
    Now I have done it!
    After a lot of pressure and persuasion
from my friend, I have finally made a dating profile on the
Internet. I am quite skeptical, I must say. I don’t even know exactly what it is
I am trying to find. Do I seek a relationship? Is it sex that I
want? Do I want both? Or do I want either? Maybe it’s just a bit of
a pastime for me. And it does turn out to be stealing a lot of my
time. It’s real good fun this. It’s also a much better way of
getting to know a man instead of meeting them in a pub when I am
shitfaced.
    I quickly manage to sort all the weirdoes
out and block them, especially the fruit loop that keeps asking to
buy a pair of my used knickers for a hundred quid. I soon learn to
manage my profile so all those that I would never want to get to
know don’t appear in my searches. After a couple of weeks, I am
writing with a few interesting men. One particular guy stands out.
He calls himself the Captain.
    After another week, I am only writing with
the Captain. We have exchanged e-mail addresses and phone numbers
and we are chatting to each other several times a day. I get lots
of butterflies in my stomach every time I speak to him. He is
really nice. Down to earth. He’s got two kids that are staying with
him every other week. I’ve got my son all the time. We actually
don’t live very far from each other.
    After a few more days where the frequency
of our communication keeps stepping out, he ev entually asks me out on a date on his
sailing boat. The following Saturday. I am a bit concerned. He is
younger than me, around thirty and I am in my mid-thirties. When I
was younger, I always went for older men. I was only around twenty
when I first realized that a man needs to be thirty before he is
really mature and experienced enough for sex to become really
great. It’s like men need to be trained sexually throughout their
twenties before they peek when they are in their early thirties and
their sexual performance eventually becomes satisfactory – so to
speak. Now, I am thirty-seven and still going for men around
thirty. Well, I eventually decide to accept his offer. A boat trip:
Game on.
     
    Finally it’s Saturday. I drop-off my son
at my sister’s and go home to get ready. Home alone, I start to get
really excited about the whole thing. I pick a bra that gives my
breasts a lift and make them stand out a bit. My breasts are not exactly gravity
defying, but the result gets my approval. I put a light, lilac
summer top on which is almost see-through. My breasts are nicely
tanned after a sunny summer. My cleavage actually looks really
good. I am happy about my looks. Even if I have had a child and put
on a few pounds, I still do not look too bad for a
thirty-seven-year-old, I decide. I opt for a little, white skirt
and a pair of sandals with a bit of a heal. I consider not wearing
any knickers, but change my mind. After all, it’s a first date with
a man I have never met outside the virtual dating world. Better not
jinx my luck, so I put on a pair of laced hipsters that match my
bra. Nice. I spend almost an hour doing my hair and make-up. Then I
re-do my make-up as I realize, I might have put too much on for a
boat trip. We are bound to be on or in the water all afternoon, so
it might look awful if it starts running. I bring a cardigan in
case it gets cold on the water and I am done. Then I am off to the
Port of Call as per the Captain’s instructions.
    I am really excited to finally meet him
and see him with my own eyes. Of course, he has send me photos, but people always
send you those in which they look their best. I park the car. There
are a lot of boats in the marina and I wonder if it will be easy to
find his. I need not wonder. He is standing right next to my car. I
recognize him instantly from the photos. Wow! He is one handsome
guy. Dark, short hair, nice masculine chin, brown eyes, close
shave. He has that rugged look I have always been attracted to in
men. His body: