By now my mind was reeling, ‘What could she possibly tell me that would make me bolt or generate crass comments? What she really a he? Did she have some weird disease that meant sex was off the agenda? What?’
TATYANA: “I am a witch.”
ME: pausing a second, “Oh, okay. Does that mean our date’s off?”
TATYANA: “No, but some guys automatically think I’m nuts or start making fun of me or tell stale jokes I’ve heard too many times and I would hate for either of us to be surprised later.”
I blurt out, “I’m cool with it,” while the whole time my mind ran the gambit of nuts to a host of stupid witch comments. Ultimately, I think my lust overpowered any fear or stupidity. “Where we goin’ first?”
We spent several hours strolling through various parts of the French Quarter, checking out shops, her explaining some of the history and otherwise having a good time. On multiple occasions she would brush up against me with various parts of her body and one time backed her sweet little ass into my crotch as she bent over under the premise of looking at something on a shelf. Far be it from me to discourage her flirtatious overtures. I too took opportunities to press against her body or put my arm around her and pat her butt cheek. I think a blind man could see where all this was headed. If I was wrong, I would surely return to the hotel with a case of ‘blue balls’.
As the evening started to shade the area, I asked if she was hungry and wanted to stop somewhere. She smiled with a twinkle in her eyes and said, “No, I think we should head back to my place. I’m sure we can find something to eat there.” Pleased at the prospects that were unfolding, I laced my arm around her waist and said. “Lead on.” Fifteen minutes later we were opening the door to her place. As she goes into another room, she calls out, “There’s glasses in the cabinet by the fridge, ice in the freezer and liquor on the cart. Why don’t you pour us up something?”
“What’s your poison?” I ask as I gathered the glassware.
“Bourbon on the rocks,” she announced.
By the time I finish pouring up a pair of drinks, she is emerging from the other room having exchanged her halter top for a light, wispy blouse with a deep plunging neckline and only a couple buttons holding the front closed. As I handed her the drink, I quipped, “I thought you were going to wear me out today?” Tatyana led the way to her couch and motioned for me to sit and replied with a grin, “The day isn’t over yet.” I took a spot more or less in the middle to guarantee she would be close on one side or the other. She dropped onto one end and immediately plopped her long, lovely legs across my lap, crossing her ankles. As we sipped our cocktail and chatted, I took the liberty of slowly massaging Tatyana’s feet, first one then the other, working from the heel to the toes.
“That feels good,” she murmured.
ME: “I figured someone who’s on their feet all the time needs an occasional relief.”
As we talked about what we had done and seen that day or what was going on in town, I moved my attention from her feet to her calves. Her skin was remarkably soft and smooth. Initially, I only could rub the side of the calves while her legs were crossed. Whether it was to accommodate me or avail herself to more touching, Tatyana uncrossed her legs and gave me access to the complete calves. She must have been enjoying it some as her nipples became visible points beneath the thin fabric of her blouse.
As I gently kneaded the muscle she asked, “Are you trying to endear yourself to me?”
Grinning I retorted, “Is it working?”
I slowly moved my massage to just above her knee. I didn’t want to be so bold as to just slide my hand up Tatyana’s thigh but I did have hopes of reaching her prize. While not fully relinquishing control, she parted her legs just enough that I could squeeze the lower thighs. Her legs were soft but taut with the muscles and either imagined or real, seemed to get warmer closer to her torso. Suddenly, she swings her legs off me, sitting up quickly. The swiftness of her move made me think I had gone too far. Rather, she snatched up the empty glasses and said, “my turn to get the drinks. Same for you?”
“Sure,” I stammered.
As she returned with fresh drinks, Tatyana set them on the table before the couch and sat down right next to me. As I leaned forward to retrieve my glass, Tatyana framed my face with her hands turning me toward her and began kissing me. It was a long, deep, wet kiss where our tongues tangled together in their own little mating dance.
Breaking from the kiss after a few minutes, Tatyana says, “I have a little test for you.”
ME: “A test? What kinda test?”
Reaching for a thin magazine laying on the table near our drinks, she picked it up and handed it to me. I looked at the cover and then at her rather curiously. Putting her hand on it so as to prevent me from opening it she proceeded, “There are 2 pictures each of 8 models, a facial and a full body. I want you to pick the model you like best and tell me why you picked her.”
ME: “If you aren’t in there, then I can’t pick the one I like best.”
TATYANA: “That’s so sweet. And no I am not in there. Now get busy you only have a few minutes.”
As she grabbed her drink and lounged back on the couch I opened the magazine. There on the first pages was a very attractive young lady. On the left side was a close-up face picture and on the right she was posed in a bikini such that one could see many of her features. I wasn’t sure whether to take Tatyana serious or what the purpose was, so I flipped through all the pages briefly to see about narrowing down the pool of candidates. Each model had different attributes that a man might find attractive, long hair, short hair, big breasts or more average, long shapely legs, different size derrieres. The faces were also unique in that some had fuller lips, others beautiful eyes and others, dimples. While 4 were Anglo, 2 were Black, 1 Hispanic and 1 Asian. After pouring over them a few minutes, I picked one. Sitting up Tatyana looked at my ***********ion and said, “Yes, she is very nice. Why did you pick her?” I knew I would be put on the spot so I started some generalities.
“Well, I like her breasts as they are not too big, well-shaped. Her medium-length hair is attractive. I like her nice, shapely legs and her tight little butt. I like her dimples as they make her look wholesome, almost the ‘girl next door’ type, but you can see a hint of mischief in her eyes. She strikes me as the girl you might take home to meet your parents, but she going to go down on you while driving over.”
“Interesting,” said Tatyana. “I think she was a good pick and your reasons legit.”
ME: “So did I pass?”
TATYANA: “You would only fail if you couldn’t pick one. But you scored better because of your reasons.”
ME: “Scored? What did I win?”
TATYANA: “You’ll see.”
Tossing the magazine back on the table, Tatyana stands and reaching out her hand said, “Come on, I’ll show you the rest of my place.”
The place was not huge, basically a hall running from the living room toward what I assumed were bedrooms. The first door we came to was a rather large bathroom that had a walk-in shower at one end and in the center a big claw-foot bathtub like you would see a century ago.