Friday Night at The Black Horse — Luton, UK
Have you ever noticed, that if you are not attracted to a particular type of woman, that type of woman always seems to be attracted to you? The same thing seems to happen with relationships between different species. How many times does a cat ignore a cat person, and instead it insists on sitting on a non-cat person. It doesn’t seem to occur with all members of a particular species… dogs are a notable exception, yet I have seen it happen occasionally with dogs. I am both a cat person, as well as a dog person… one of those rare people who get looked at as odd, by those who only prefer one species. I would have one of each if my apartment allowed pets. I had wanted a dog and a cat as a child. I asked for a Bull Terrier and a Manx cat, but my parents always said no.
I’ve spoken to many men about what they like. The general consensus seems to be they either have to be blonde, with big tits, big ass and legs that go on forever, orat least big breasts, and legs that to on forever. But me? I’ve never been very attracted to blondes. Never understand why so many men lust after them. Personally I like brunettes, the darker hair the better. Skin colour doesn’t both me. Dusky, olive, black, brown, white, I love them all, even more if they have brown or even better, black hair. Redheads are OK, but give me that brown or better black haired girl. Some men will only date girls with blue eyes, others want green eyes. I don’t care about eye colour, just the colour of a woman’s hair. Some men fixate on breasts, others legs, some an hour glass figure, some even only want small breasted girls. Some men I know even liked hairy women. Others want fat women. Me, I don’t care about the breasts, arse or legs, just the colour of their hair and eyes.
Don’t get me wrong, I like breasts, arse, legs, arms, basically their whole bodies, and all of their curves. But every woman is different, every woman to me is special, just not all were as special to me as a brown or black haired one. I just am not hung up on the size of the breasts and arse, nor do I think twice about legs that were longer, or shorter than average.
Bu brown and black haired girls are not necessarily attracted to me, of course. I understand that completely. A white man, with brown hair and dark green eyes, with a rather plain, forgettable face, not Extremely athletic, just a shade under six feet tall and constantly aware of the hazards of eating the food I like, I know I can gain weight extremely easy. So I’m not exactly what most women seem to want. I’m not unfit, as I exercise daily, lift weights weekly, run every other day and swim las on the other days. I’m fit, I’m just not jock fit.
Neither am I extremely adventurous, I’m not a bad boy, I don’t do questionable activities, such as riding on the tops of land or air cars, parkour races over buildings, sky diving knife fights or any number of those things that young mendo these days to impress the ladies. More than a century and a half after the beginning of the twenty first century and what has been called start of the age of mental health, we still cannot stop teenagers from doing stupid things for fun or entertainment. At least a hundred years ago they were able to put controls on social media sites that stopped most of the antisocial behaviors that troubled our ancestors.
I have always cared too much about people and I would never want to hurt someone by accident or intentionally be cruel, which is something a lot of women seem to crave in a man’s behavior. Now I know a lot of women are going to say they are not attracted to such men and that is a bad stereotype. But I have seen far too many women go for such bad boys to actually believe it isn’t true. Especially when the ones that say they are not attracted to these men, are usually either dating or even married to them. Even then they tend to renew their marriages at the five and ten year licence renewals.
But while I’m not extremely adventurous, and I’m not going to do things that would hurt myself or want to hurt others even when asked to, I am a safe date. I make sure I get written or recorded voice permission before sex. Yes, I’m that careful. I have had a few girls who were into BDSM, bondage, and other kinks. As long as they didn’t expect me to permanently mark them or cut their skin, beat their arses too hard and make wealth that scarred or hit and really hurt them, basically cause any permanent damage, we got along. I figured, if a girl had a need, and she wanted it, and it made her happy, then I would provide for her. Some girls, a small minority and certainly not all of course, get their pleasure from pain. I have always tried to give the women that I date what they wanted, what they felt they needed. And I found some of them actually needed someone who was willing to hurt them. But I just can’t take the step to hurt others to satisfy my own or athird party’s desires.
Most of my girls have told me at one time or another that I’m good and safe… Yes, since I was sixteen, I have had many girls, and I have ‘Had’ most of them. If you are not from the UK, get over it, sixteen is still the legal age here to have sex, exactly the same as most of the counties of the world now. And I have always insisted on practicing safe sex. STD’s may almost be a thing of the past, but I take my monthly anti-sperm and anti-STD tablets religiously. Therefore, I have no baby mommas. Girls, women really, tend to date me for between two and six months, on average just short of three months, and then dump me for one of those bad guys because, I’m not “exciting enough” even though they would all agree I provided for their wants and needs. Go figure! And they usually would always dumped me just when I was thinking I could live with them for the rest of my life, or I was wondering if I should propose to them for a beginners five year marriage.
And no, it isn’t my package that is the problem either, I’m always told they were pleasantly surprised when they see what I’m packing. I’m not a giant in the nether regions, but neither am I exactly small. Well over eight inches long erect and thick enough that I usually need to take it easy the first few sessions and none of them had ever asked for anal, although I’ve been told by Those that were interested in it, that many of them would gladly do so with thinner equipped men… just not with me.
But it is almost always the blondes and redheads that hit me up, and yes, I have ended up dating a large number of them. If you go to an all you can eat restaurant and all they have is pasta dishes, you eat pasta. I just never thought of them as a permanent partner material. And they Always dumped me anyway. Brunettes just don’t normally seem to be as attracted to me, as I was to them. Still I have dated them as well, and always with the same results, except those relationshipships were ones that never lasted very long, sometimes just two or three weeks of sex and fun. Even when I wanted them to last longer.
So it was odd, when one girl caught my attention. It because she was staring at me. Again, I may say girl, I mean woman of course, and she was definitely a woman. Hair as black as coal, so black it was that type of black that seemed to have blue highlights. She had dark brown eyes, almost black in colour, a light brown, almost caramel coloured, tanned skin, tightly curled hair that fanned out, but not kinky enough to maintain as an afro, but that would not have bothered me. She had a very nice athletic body covered with an attractive form fitting red dress. Her face was heart shaped, her eyes slightly tilted up at the corners, her cheek bones were higher than usual, and her lips were full and begged to be kissed.
I guess I should give a bit more on her figure, as most people seem to think they need to know exactly what a woman’s body looks like. She had a short body, on top of long shaped legs. The dress ended just a few inches below her crotch, and she was not wearing tights or leggings, her smooth flawless skin didn’t need them. Her hips were wide, wait small and a bust that was at least a C cup, firm cone shaped breasts with noticeable domed Areola and thick nipples that stuck out at least a half in inch. I could tell this, because like most women at this time in history, wasn’t wearing a bra, and she jiggled gently as she moved, turned, or lifted her arms. Later I found they bounced, jiggled, and wobbled with every step.
I do sometimes get stared at, I think mostly because I think I have an incredibility forgettable face. People sometimes think I’m someone they know and often ask me where I know them from. So at first, I thought that was why she was watching me. But as the evening at my local pub, the Black Horse, one of the few old style pubs still about. I decided there must be something else involved. I wasin-between girls at the time, just out with some of my friends, a mixture of men and women, some of the women I had dated, their new men who were mostly their bad boy partners or with their girl friends to get away from those same partners, along with some of my other long time friends. I tend to stay friendly with everyone I meet, even those I have had dated or had sex with, and I even get friendly with their new boyfriends. My face is so forgettable, the boy friends never seem to get jealous of me. Maybe because they just don’t recognize me.
Eventually, I decided to hell with it and I went over to where she was sitting on a high stool and said, “Hi”.
“Hi,” she replied and gave me a big smile, before continuing. “Sorry I didn’t mean to stare, but you look like someone I’ve have been looking for.”
“I’m Robert Web,” I replied, “You are looking for me?”
“No,” she said. “I don’t know exactly who I’m looking for, and I don’t know his name, but you look like him.” She came off the stool and stood before, the top of her head came up to about my nose. She leaned forward and sniffed my chest, “You don’t wear perfumes, I like that. And you smell like him.” She reached out and ran her hand down my bare arm before adding, “You even feel like him.”
“A bit difficult to know who you are looking for without a name,” I stated.
“True,” she replied, “But my granny said I would know who it was when I found him, and I think I may have found him in you.”
“Well, what can I say to that, except, what’s your name?”
“Naumi,” she said sticking out her hand to shake mine. “Naumi Aislingdaughter.”
“I’m not sure, but isn’t Naumi a Hindu name for the goddess Druga? And Aisling is Irish isn’t it?”
“Correct,” she replied. “I’m named for my great grandmother Naumi, and my mother, Aisling. My family names their daughters after their mother and their sons after their father.” She laughed, and I liked the laugh, more of an infected leaderReally. “Like all the Celts did and the Icelanders sometimes still do. We have always had problems with government officials, as on paper my name was Naumi Mohamed, until I legally changed it to what it is now.”
“And why me?” I asked.
“Well, everyone in my family says my grandmother has the sight, as did my great grandmother and great great grandmother,” she said. “And as everything they ever written down in their journals has come true, we see no reason to dispute them.”
“That must be nice sometimes,” I said, “Especially if they wrote anything about stocks and shares.”
“Well, yes it is,” she stated firmly. “Great Great Great Grandfather invested in stagecoaches, railroads and the telegraphs on her advice. Great Great Grandfather invested in Edison and Westinghouse. Great Grandfather would never have invested in IBM otherwise, Grandfather bought Google, Microsoft, Amazon and Apple stocks at just the right time. With that track my father invested in We Are Space atJust the right time. My brothers and I all invest in what Grandmother suggestions, at just the best time to buy stocks.” She looked a bit sad for a moment, “But the bad things they predict also come true.” She looked at me and grinned, “But you’re not bad, not for me. Mother, who I should admit has also has the sight, says I will never reach my true potential without you.” She smiled deeply before softly adding, “And you will not become who you are supposed to be without me!”
“Why thanks,” I replied, “that’s a lot to put on a guy you just met. And who exactly am I going to become?”
“I can’t tell you that, because then it may not come true,” she stated, took a big breath then added. “I can tell you, if you are the one, that you are going to save me.” She grinned at me and added, “You are one of the safe good ones, and I trust you.”
I had to admit I felt a bit upset when she said that, and then she looked at me, with her head cocked slightly, and any upset I had went away. “Would you mind going out with me tomorrow?” she then asked.
“Well, I don’t have anything planned,” I said. Tomorrow was Saturday and all I had considered doing was washing and drying clothes, cleaning the parts of the flat the cleaning bot couldn’t reach and cooking food I could eat over the coming week. I refused to get a cooking bot, they just don’t work correctly I felt. I could always do all those things on Sunday.
“Great,” she said and she handed me a small card with an address written in tight script on it. “You can pick me up here. Come early and I will take you to see my family, if that’s OK.”
“Sure,” I replied, while thinking she was rushing things a bit. I would have preferred getting to know her first, before being subjected to any ‘silent family inquisition.’ Still she was the type of woman I was attracted to, and I wasn’t going to turn her down.
“Great,” she said again. “Can you come over about 10 am? That will give us almost all day to get toKnow each other.”
“Sure!” I replied, and she breezed out of the pub.
When I tired the next morning, it was raining and it was dark Outside. I looked at the clock and it was only 5 am. I often wake early in the mornings, give me time to exercise before going to work, but I would have liked to have skipped exercise and slept in this morning. But when I’m awake, I can’t go back to sleep. I turned off the 7 o’clock alarm I usually set for a Saturday.
I got up, got dressed and ran in warm rain around the town centre to put in a few miles. When I got home, I showed, shavled and heated my daily breakfast. I did mention I cook my weekly meals on the weekend didn’t I? I would have to cook my Sunday breakfast in the morning of course, but as I was going out, I would probably eat my Saturday meals on Sunday.
By the time I had finished eating it was seven am. I tidied up the flat, not much to do, just light hoovering where the bot couldn’t reach, I normally did a ‘big cleann’ on Saturdays, but because I always cleaned up after myself daily there wasn’t really much to do normally. And the bot does get most things. The night before I had checked how long it would take me to get to Naumi’s and had ordered an Uber for 9:30. I should arrive 15 minutes early, but Ubers don’t always arrive when they say they will, even if you book the night before. Even after over a Hundred years, Uber still employed people for most of drivers. AI for cars never really solved all their issues, and an alert driver was needed. Gig economy are dependent on people who don’t always need to work, but want to make extra money. To my mind, a Gig employee who has to rely on that type of job were effectively slaves to the companies they worked for. And Unions came and went, depending on who was in office. As much as others like to be fashionablely late, I’d rather get where I’m going on time.
When the Uber arrived, I stepped out of the apartment complex. The skies had cleared and it was sunny and bright. The driver took me to a small suburban residential area not far from Dunstable. The house she stopped at must have been built long before the rest, given the size of the trees in front of what looked like a not very wide neighbor detached two story building. I got out, thanked the driver, paid and tipped her and looked around. The trees in the front of the house were not the normal trees I would have expected in a town or city and around newer industries built forty years ago, which are often London Plane. These where English Oaks, and had to be at least two hundred years old, which means the house had to have been built long after the trees had been planted.
I stood for a few minutes taking in the surroundings. They were typical modern houses, four stories high, basically one room on each floor, with a toilet on the ground floor, kitchen on the second floor and any bedrooms and bathrooms on the two upper floors. The houses were built so that there could be one car in front of the house, a four foot wide walk way on each side of each house, and in the back, I could just make out the standard tiny garden. I turned around and looked at Naumi’s house. It had been built to specifications not used in over a hundred and fifty years. I then realized what initially looked like hedges between the houses on either side of Naumi’s address, were actually ancient hedgerows, the trees had have cut and layered to form an almost solid living wooden barrier between the properties. A quick glance around the housing estate allowed me to determine that most of the hedges between the other properties were privets with at least one yew hedge before a nearby house, and I also realized the other trees were more in keeping with the housing estates I was more familiar with, London planes mixed with birches, flowering cherries and a few I recognized from sight if not by name and all were much younger trees, they couldn’t be more than ten or fifteen years old, which revised my idea of how old the estate was considered.
The estate was probably started around twenty years before, when the UK population had finally doubled again from immigration and immigrant birthdays, which typically were two or three times the size of a typical British family. Their children almost always followed the one and three quarters children of the average British family. The first time a hundred years ago, and the second recently. Two hundred and forty million people use a lot of land, when most of them don’t want to live in what the press called the high rise death traps found in all the City Centres now, and that provided more housing than all of the housing estates built.
I turned back to her house and walked up the path towards the front door. A driveway paralleled the path then curved to the right to skirt a flowerbed and some bushes. The driveway went past the side of the building. When I had almost reached the door situation between two large bay windows, I hear someone announcement, “Naumi! Your visitor has arrived!” The front door opened to reveal a smile, very pretty, tiny, young oriental woman with black hair and an oval face, in a form fitting green strapless sundress. The top of her head barely came up to my shoulder and she was at least two feet above the ground I stood on.
“Hi!” she said to me, “I’m Yui! Please come in!” I had the impression that everything she said was usually enthusiastically exclaimed. I climbed up two low concrete steps and then the low sill and through the threshold. “She will be right down! Please, have a seat!” she added gesturing to some comfortable old chairs and sofa set next to and facing the right bay window. Having said what she was going to say, she promptly left the front room through a hall in the middle of back wall next to a stairwell. She turned to the left at the end of the hallway and I promptly heard the clatter of dishes and hiss of running water.
I glanced around the room, takingEverything in, before sitting down on the edge of an overstuffed armchair. The clock painted above the front door showed me I had gotten there five minutes early. The room itself was like an old fashion receiving room, filled with comfortable furniture on one side and a large oak table on the other with matching wooden chairs set behind it against the wall, with the other chairs lined up on either side of the table, against the wall. A large vase of mixed flowers was set on a white and red patterned runner. Most homes would have used it as their living room, and I had fully expected to see a large TV painted on the wall, but instead there was a book cabinet filled with books where most would have placed a TV. I looked out the window at the front garden, framed by the two large oak trees. It was very restful here I decided.
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