I said to my friend: "I do realize I keep looking at her. Well, it can't be helped, it's my job." Don't you love the perfect excuse?
Eolake Stobblehouse Letters to Domai
When I was in college, a beautiful and very tall young woman came in often to hear me sing and play classical, jazz and folk guitar tunes at a pub. She worked as a waitress at a restaurant next door. The daily pub gig was a good-paying job to help me with my education, and an excellent way to meet women who had an appreciation for more than three-chord songs. I am 6'2" tall, and have always appreciated girlfriends who are close to my height, but they are very rare. I haven't seeked them out...it's just kind of happened that way perhaps, with a few tall women remembered very fondly. Who knows what is in play when a woman is attractive? I've had some girlfriends who were "unusual" looking, like my wife who has always referred to herself as a "goofy looking girl". She is goofy looking like Sophia Loren. Anyway, "Nicolle", a teutonic and slender German, small-breasted, 20 years old, at a barefoot 6'1", was attracted to some aspect of my stage persona and initiated a first after-work conversation date at a local pub. We met at the appointed hour, and she appeared dressed in a pink one-piece athletic suit of some kind, with a zipper that went all the way down, but unzipped only to mid-cleavage. We talked about our interests...hers was ice skating...to be precise, competitive figure skating. She was a finalist for the Olympic team in a competition in our state in the USA, although it is unusual for tall woment to advance to that level. She returned on her day off for my next gig at the pub, and stayed until closing. Afterward we talked about her upcoming skating trials, and how much she had been practicing so she had no time for a social life. As the night wound down and closing time approached, she asked me if I would like to see her skate. "Of course," I said, not knowing where that would happen. "I have a key to the skating rink where I practice. Would you like to see me skate now?" "No," I said, "I've been playing guitar and singing for four hours, and I'm tired." Just kidding. We drove there in 15 minutes at 1AM, parking in front of the dark building. Nicolle took out her key, opened the front door, and found the entry lights as I waited. She disappeared into a back room and turned on all of the lights, then returning to where I was waiting. She gave me a kiss, and led me to a front row seat. "I have a special routine for you," she said with a smile. "Just sit down and wait." I sat in the empty ice arena for about 15 minutes that seemed like an hour, wondering what kind of craziness might be about to happen. Nicolle had an unpredictable streak in her that I had noticed in our conversations. Our of the far darkness, across the ice, I saw a "figure" skating toward me, Nicolle, completely nude except for her skates. She was a picture of grace and beauty that was sexy beyond my wildest dreams, but a work of art in athletic motion. It was the first erotic nude gift given to me by an incredibly beautiful woman, freely without me asking, as a surprise. Her firm breasts were sporting erect nipples in the cold, goosebumps all over her body, as she skated toward me and planted a kiss over the rail, turning around to continue her rountine. I watched her exquisite form, long muscular legs, and smiling face glide around the ice for 20 minutes until she disappeard into a distant door. Soon she returned, the lights were turned off, she escorted me out, and invited me to the apartment she shared with her sister. Wherever Nicolle is, I wish her all the best, and with good fortune and good health. What a beautiful woman and athlete. Unforgettable after 40 years. Jim
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