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Author’s Note: This story was previously uploaded under an earlier account which is no longer active. Some changes have been made, but ultimately the content remains the same.


Under most normal circumstances, I wouldn’t attend most major sporting events. I’ve never been a big fan of sports, nor did I know the rules to most of them. Despite my friends’ efforts to get me into sports (in their minds, there’s something wrong a man who doesn’t like them), I still found myself bored when watching games on their large, flat screen TVs. Going to the stadiums to see the games lives was a lot worse; I never really liked loud noise and huge crowds, and inside of the arenas, ear-splitting screams and tightly-packed crowds are commons. Still, I did go with them on occasion, if nothing else to stop them from complaining. I could deal with it for a few hours.

One such Sunday, my friends had tickets to a football game and invited me. With some reluctance, I agreed to go with them (though I resisted the urge to bring a book with me). They picked me up and parked their car at my apartment complex since I lived closest to the football stadium. After getting some snacks, we went to our seats and when the game started, I did my best to pay attention, but found myself bored (also confused, since football was an extremely confusing sport, and I didn’t want to look even more moronic by not knowing the rules).

During half-time, I was able to excuse myself (I told my friends I was going to get some more snacks). I went to a quieter part of the stadium, a few steps away from one of the concession stands, to regain energy for a moment. Being around large groups of people always sapped my energy, and at that moment, I desperately needed to recharge my batteries.

Some moments later, I heard a female voice ordering some nachos and a soda from the concession stand. I opened my eyes and saw a brunette standing about 5’2″ taking a small box of nachos from one of the people behind the concession stand. Her wavy brown hair stopped at her shoulders. While she was clad in the same football shirts most other spectators in the area were wearing, she also wore a pair of hip-hugging jeans which enhanced her lower body impeccably.

When some men describe a particularly curvaceous woman, they use phrases like “An ass so nice it could stop traffic.” While this is obvious hyperbole, I truly believed this woman’s rear could cause an accident.

I couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to place my hands on her, to have her grinding against me, and even to explore the depths of it with my own hardness. It was strange; while I liked women with nice asses, I never wanted to have sex in that way, but there was something about this woman that brought me away from my “exit only” frame of thinking.

Difficult as it was, I managed to tear my eyes away from her lower body seconds before she turned around, and to my pleasant surprise, she was just as amazing from the front as the rear; her brown eyes were soulful and large, and her lips were thick and slightly glossy.

I swallowed hard, steeling myself to approach her, but to my surprise, she stopped, gave me a warm smile, then said, “Hey, how are you?”

“I’m ok, how about you?” Her greeting took me off guard.

“Just ‘ok?'” The woman gave me a curious look. “We’re up, and the game’s going well. You’re not a fan of the other team, are you?”

She laughed. I shrugged my shoulders.

“Honestly, sports really aren’t my thing.”

“Really? So, what brings you to a football game if you don’t like sports?”

“I’m just here with some friends. I’m sure it’s probably weird to find a guy who’s not really into sports, huh?”

The woman thought. “I’ve known a few, but I think most guys like sports, though. It’s not a problem. You like what you like. I’m Stephanie, by the way.”

“Martin.” We shook hands.

“So, if you don’t mind me asking, what are you interested in, Martin?”

“I actually enjoy writing. It’s what I do for a living.”

“Hmm. That’s interesting. What do you write about?”

I told her I worked as a freelance writer, but also wrote romance as well. Stephanie’s eyes widened. Since most men didn’t write romance (or read it, for that matter), she was intrigued. Even though the game was likely resuming, she took some time to ask me some questions about writing. She said that was something she always wanted to do, so it was admirable she met someone who made a living doing that.

“It’s not really a big deal,” I said after answering some of Stephanie’s questions. “But what do you do, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“I just work in marketing. Nothing special,” she said. “I used to want to model.”

“There’s no reason why you can’t.” I shrugged. “You’ve definitely got the good looks for it.”

She laughed and playfully tapped me on the arm. “You’re funny. But no, I don’t have the right shape for it. For one, I’m too short. Most models are much taller than I am. That and … well, my butt’s a little canlı bahis too big.”

“What a problem to have.” We both laughed.

“You know, you’re really funny.” Stephanie’s brown eyes shined a little. We spoke for a little longer, then she told me she should get back to the game. Before ending the conversation, I dug into my pocket, pulled out one of my business cards and handed it to her.

“I enjoyed speaking with you, Stephanie. I’d love it if you gave me a call at eight tonight.”

“Hmm.” She studied my business card. “Why do you want me to call you, Martin?”

I made sure to lock eyes with her. I always tend to be somewhat nervous whenever speaking with an attractive woman for the first time, but I never allow my fear to prevent me from asking them out.

“Because I’d like to set up a time for us to go out. This way, you can check your schedule and see when you’re free, and we can meet up then.”

To my surprise, she again smiled. “That’s sounds good. You’ll be hearing from me later. Take care.”

She headed in the direction of the seating. As she did so, I stood still, watching her swing her hips until she disappeared. What a woman, I thought. The evening couldn’t come soon enough.

I went back to the stands and rejoined my friends, and finished watching the game, then once it ended, they walked back to my apartment complex where they parked, stopped in to eat, then went back to their homes to get ready for work. I took some time to clean the house, then fired up my computer and put a movie on.

Shortly after 7:30, my phone began to buzz. I picked it up and saw a text message reading “Hi, it’s Stephanie from earlier. Is now a good time for us to talk?”

Shocked, I wrote back “Sure,” and just after sending that message, I received a call from her. I answered it, still unable to believe she was calling me almost a half-hour before we were scheduled to talk.

“How are you doing?” Stephanie asked.

“I’m doing great. I didn’t expect you to call yet.”

“Oh, I’m sorry! I knew I should have waited.”

“No, no; it’s fine. I don’t mind. It’s a pleasant surprise. So, how’s your schedule looking?”

“Would you like to meet tomorrow during my lunch break?” Her sudden boldness took me by surprise. “I work downtown, and there’s this sandwich place that’s near my job. I was going to take my break two, that way it won’t be as crowded.”

“That’s perfect. Where is the restaurant?” She told me which street I’d find it, and which office building she worked in. “That is close to where you work. But yeah, that’s no problem. I’m looking forward to it.”

“Me too.” We made small talk for a little while longer, but since she had to get ready for work in the morning, we couldn’t stay on the phone for long. I understood that she was a busy woman, and I told her we would have plenty to discuss tomorrow.

“Take care, Martin. I’ll see you tomorrow at two.”

“See you then.” We hung up.

While I hadn’t spent much time with her, I already knew I was going to like Stephanie. In addition to her jaw-dropping curves, I was drawn to her straightforward attitude. From the way she called me early, she was the sort of woman who didn’t play games. Even earlier, when she asked me why I wanted her to call me, I could tell she wants a man bold enough to state what he wants, which I have no issue with doing. Most women respect upfront and honest communication, from what I’ve noticed, and Stephanie was no exception.

When I turned the lights out and put my head on my pillow, I found myself unable to get to sleep easily, the excitement for tomorrow’s date keeping me awake. I grabbed a paperback from my bookshelf and read for a little while, then drifted off some time later.

The next morning, I arose early to write and take care of my usual errands. Since my date with Stephanie wasn’t until two, I figured I’d use the time leading up to it productively, though even with all my errands finished, I still had to spend a couple hours idle, and waiting before a date is always the hardest part.

Despite that, I did my best to remain patient. I took some time to read news stories online to give myself something to talk about during my date with Stephanie, and at 1:30, I decided to head downtown to the sandwich place near her office building. By time I got there, it would be ten minutes to the hour, and I always liked to be a little early for any date.

Just as Stephanie told me during our last phone conversation, the lunch crowd had dissipated considerably, making it quite easy to find a table. I went to the counter to order an iced tea to drink while I was waiting for my date. As I went to the soft drink area, I felt my phone vibrate. I saw a message from Stephanie which read “I’m on my way now.” I sent back an “Ok,” then went back to my chair.

It wasn’t quite 2:00 yet, but already my date let me know she would be in the place soon. This let me know she was the sort of woman who didn’t mess around. I have met a few women who have been late bahis siteleri on purpose, and while I don’t usually mind waiting, I always prefer when a woman values promptness as much as I do.

One minute before our scheduled time, I saw Stephanie approaching the building. She was wearing a white blouse and a pair of black dress pants with high heels to match. Her hair was done in of a small bun, which made her look the epitome of professional. Once she opened the door and stepped inside, she saw me, then walked over to where I was sitting and hugged me once I stood up and greeted her.

“You’re looking great,” I said, examining her attire and physique more closely.

“Thanks, you are too. How has your day been so far?”

“Just spent most of it running errands. Yours?”

“It’s been pretty busy. I’m glad I’m taking a later lunch since there was so much to do. You hungry?”

“Starving.” She laughed, then said we should go order. We went to the register together and ordered some sandwiches, then went back to the table.

“You could have started eating before I got here. I wouldn’t have minded,” Stephanie said as she and I took our seats.

“No, that’s ok. I was always taught not to eat until everyone is present. It would have been rude to eat without you.”

My date was surprised to hear that. She said that not many people still had those sorts of manners, especially not in our age range. I told her it was just common courtesy.

While we’re about atypical practices, I brought up and praised her promptness. There were many people who saw no problem with being late to a date or appointment with someone, but Stephanie seemed like the sort of person who took pride in being on time. When I said this to her, she nodded.

“Of course. I’m not the sort of woman who plays games. If I can help it, I’m not going to be late for anything. I feel like if someone’s late, it’s almost like saying that you feel as though your time is more important than the other person’s. Your time is valuable just like mine is, which is why I do my best to show up on time, or at least I’ll let you know if I’m going to be late.”

I smiled. “I feel exactly the same.”

We began eating our sandwiches and talking about current events. Stephanie paid attention to a lot of financial news—a given since she was in marketing, and sports news since she was an avid sports fan, and she taught me a lot about the former. Regarding the latter, she could tell I wasn’t very interested, so she kept discussions on it brief, though not without expressing surprise yet again that she met a man who wasn’t into sports much.

“It happens.” I said. “But I have noticed there are more women into sports recently.”

“I think it’s always been women who are sports fans. I used to play a lot when I was younger. Mostly softball though; I wasn’t tall enough for basketball. You don’t like any sports at all?”

“I’m not sure if exercise counts,” I said. “If I does, I try to work out often.”

Stephanie giggled, but shook her head. “I meant team sports. But that’s good you like to work out. I like to work out, too.”

“You must do a lot of squats.”

She raised her eyebrows and grinned. “What makes you say that?”

“Oh … no reason.” Both of us laughed.

“You’re funny. But I’ve always had a big butt, even when I was a teenager. I felt like a freak back then, since I was the only girl in school who was short with a body like mine. I used to get teased. It wasn’t until my college years when I felt more confident. I think around that time; big butts were suddenly ‘in.'”

She stopped to laugh. “I feel a bit cheated. If I was born earlier, I would have been so popular!”

“Well, you get a lot of positive attention now, I’m sure,” I said.

She nodded. We made some more light conversation while people-watching from the restaurant window and eating our respective sandwiches. While there were several attractive women out, my attention remained on Stephanie. Even when she complemented the beauty of some other women who walked by, I told her she outshined them.

“Martin, you don’t have to worry about upsetting me by agreeing.” Stephanie gave me a serious look. “I know you’re not blind. I’m sure you notice other women, and you don’t have to pretend you don’t. I’m not the jealous type. If anything, I’ll ask you who your type is.”

“Is that so?” I was bewildered.

“Absolutely. When I was younger, I used to feel threatened whenever a man I liked looked at other women. I used to think I was ugly. But now, I feel a lot better about the way I look, and I realize that we’re all different. I have a certain beauty, and other women have theirs.”

I nodded. Stephanie had a surprising amount of depth. Initially, she gave me the impression of an attractive woman who was a bit of a tomboy, and I didn’t think I’d get along with her despite being physically attracted to her. Now that I’d spoken to her, I realize that even though we may have different hobbies, she’s an excellent person bahis şirketleri to speak with.

Stephanie blushed and thanked me once I praised her great conversational skills. She, in turn, complimented me on my listening. Since she was, in her own words, “a real talker,” her being with a listener was always a good thing. Of course, when the speaker is as intelligent and levelheaded as her, I’ve got no problem giving my undivided attention.

“Let me ask you something: what made you want to ask me out?” Stephanie stared at me, curious. I took some time to think before answering.

“Well, when I saw you getting your snacks at the football game yesterday, I was immediately attracted to you. Truthfully, the first thing I noticed was your shape, but when you turned around, and I saw your smile, that really did it for me. When you started talking to me, you seemed intelligent and friendly, so I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t ask you out.”

While some men wouldn’t have mentioned noticing a woman’s physical appearance, I have no problem being truthful when interacting with the opposite sex. In my experience, most women respect and value honesty—and since many aren’t naive, they usually know what’s running through men’s minds anyway. I was certain my date was no different; I’m sure she knew I noticed her curvaceousness. She likely wanted to be sure I was honest and courageous enough to admit I found her physically attractive, but also that I liked her for something deeper.

She nodded, then praised my compliments. We talked for a little longer, then when my date checked the time, she mentioned she had to return to work. Stephanie and I cleared the table of our trash, then I walked her back to her office building.

“So, any plans after work today?” I asked once we reached the front of her workplace. A group of people walked past us and went inside.

“I’ll probably go work out,” she said. “What about you?”

“I’ve always got some project I’m working on. So, let me ask you, Stephanie; when would like to meet up again? I enjoyed this date.”

“Me too. How about Friday after work? I’m going to a lounge for drinks and dancing, and I’d love some company. Sound good?”

She gave me the name of the lounge she was heading to, and I told her I knew of the place, though hadn’t been inside. Stephanie assured me it was a very popular spot, and the bartender makes the best drinks this side of anything.

“Sure. I’ll see you then.”

Before leaving, we embraced in a tight hug. Despite being tempted to lower my hand to her ass, I kept it square on her lower back. We parted the hug, and then stared into each other’s eyes for a moment, then met for a small lip lock. It was only for mere seconds, but the feeling of her thick lips on mine was nothing short of magnificent. Our kiss ended as quickly and as suddenly as it came, and while the look on in her eyes suggested she wanted more, both of us knew we couldn’t do that just yet, but there would be much more to come.

“See you Friday,” Stephanie’s voice lowered to a whisper before she left.

I watched her swing her hips as she entered the office building, delighting in each subtle, yet erotic movement. If there was ever a time in which I would use the phrase “poetry in motion,” it would be to describe Stephanie.

With considerable effort, I stepped away and went back to my apartment to do some work, though due to Stephanie still being in my thoughts, I found it difficult to focus. Even the simplest tasks took hours to do due to my attention being elsewhere. I picked up my phone and thought of sending her a text message but didn’t want to seem overeager.

Stephanie must have been worried about the same thing, because after 5, I received a message from her which read: “I hope I’m not bothering you. I just wanted to let you know I had a really great time. I’m looking forward to seeing you again on Friday.”

I wrote back “You’re not bothering me at all. I’m looking forward to seeing you then, too.” Hearing from her did give me a little added focus on my work. I took comfort in knowing that she was just as interested in me as I was in her (and just as worried about seeming too desperate).

In addition to her physical appearance and intelligence, us being on similar wavelengths made Stephanie even more appealing.

If this was any indication, our physical connection would likely be just as good as our mental one.

On Friday, at just a few minutes to 9, I got dressed in a button-down shirt and pair of slacks, then began walking to the lounge Stephanie mentioned. I moved at a brisk pace, barely able to contain my excitement. The past three days, my mind was filled with images of Stephanie, and even what may transpire on this date. Secretly, I hoped it would end with the two of us heading back to my apartment for a late-night rendezvous.

No matter how much I tried, I couldn’t stop envisioning what that would be like. In my experiences, some of the most erotic encounters I’ve had have been with women with curvaceous or “thick” frames. It may have just been good luck, but I’ve never met one who didn’t know how to use what she possessed to maximum effect. Stephanie’s every motion suggested that she would possess similar prowess.

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