“I’m not going to be able to call you,” she said. “What,” I replied. “I won’t be able to call you,” she might’ve rephrased it in the same wet whisper, “You’ll have to call me.” If she went on to tell me why, it had something to do with either her phone not working or not getting in trouble at her job.

“Okay,” I said to which she responded with a kiss on the left side of my forehead. She would’ve had to bend over to do it because I was sitting at a computer with a younger guy, perhaps a newbie I was training, to my right. I guess that’s why she talked so quietly. She didn’t want to disturb us.

The kiss took me by surprise as we weren’t yet romantically involved. What she said was in reply to a message from me sent in reply to a message from her, perhaps a question, that strongly implied she was interested in dating. I’d made it clear I was also interested and told her to call me.

She was a white (Caucasian) girl with straight blondish hair. She had freckles or acne; there were blemishes on her face; but she was cute enough. She was also short and petite enough. She was probably also a lot younger than me, which I hoped wouldn’t be a romantical dealbreaker.

She’d began to walk away; she apparently had to go back to work; when I asked if I could text her, meaning we didn’t have to talk. She said yes and left as I wondered about a future between us. Marriage was out of the question, but I was certainly willing to date and of course have sex with her.

2024 November 17