Mirror

Chapter 1

"Another scotch?" The bar tender swiped his cloth under my empty glass.

"Sure, why not?" I responded mechanically. My attention was directed not at the drink, or the bartender, but at an attractive woman sitting by herself at a table near the back of the restaurant. I had first spotted her as she was escorted past my location by the hostess. She was shortish, maybe 5'5", and I liked that. She was brunette, and I liked that. Most of all, she was not some lanky, under fed, self-conscious "primper" looking to attract every male eyeball in the place. No, this woman had more confidence than that. She was more comfortable in her person. She walked with her head high, her small but adequate chest proudly puffed out, her step meaningful in its deliberate cadence. Her ass was especially attractive to me in that it was once again not the skinny, diminished hard flat artificially pushed up variety so common on younger women today. This woman's hips were wide with the physical equivalent of the wisdom of age. Her cheeks stood out with pride and ample flesh to be ultimately inviting. They shook slightly with each step she took, precluding the traditional requirement to sway while walking. She was perhaps early 50's, not unlike me, aware of her attractiveness and caring for its continued influence, but not overly so. There was not heavy makeup, no excessive hair treatment, no phony smiles and gratuitous remarks to the hostess. This women was comfortable with herself in every respect but one, and I could not put my finger on it, yet.

"Here you are," The bartender placed the new drink on a fresh napkin and pushed it to me.

I turned my head and thanked him, catching sight in the mirror behind the bar of another prime example of the kind of woman I like, though quite a bit younger than I would normally target. She was sitting when I looked, and I couldn't tell near as much about her, but she too had my kind of assets, soft shoulder length hair, large eyes, and a lush appearing face and body. Playing games with myself as I often do, I projected myself into a choice of the two. They were both more than acceptable, both were in fact delectable. But if I had to choose, I know me and that I would consider the other side of the equation as well. I decided quickly the older of the two would be more comfortable with an older guy and therefore would pick her first. Silly ass, I called myself, I had NO choice of EITHER of them!

The new and younger of the two was a deeper shade of brunette, bordering redhead, very exotic to me, with a very young face and what appeared to be ample breasts. I noticed then that they were a bit lower behind her table than the woman at the other table, and therefore surmised she was in the low to middle five foot range too. She was intently watching something in the direction of the other woman, though a modest wall of plants and trellis separated the two positions. This younger woman too, was alone, and she looked remarkably similar in many respects to the other woman in my sights. Hmmmm…. My mind was wandering already.

Just what the is going on here, I wondered. Two very eligible women, different generations, both good looking and very sexy, one seemingly a time based mirror image of the other, and both alone. I started to consider what I might do to remedy that problem, for at least one of them.

I glanced back at the woman my age and took a sip of my drink. I am not a big drinker, and usually don't imbibe at all, but this night was a bit special for me. I had closed a large contract that day and was not able to fly home to New York until the next morning so I was giving myself a little celebration. The hotel was right next door to this restaurant and I had decided to take my time, have a drink, and then enjoy a nice dinner, albeit alone, and then check in to the hotel for a good night's rest. I was just nearing the completion of the first phase when I noticed the black man standing at the hostess' station. He was very tall, maybe six feet four inches, broad in shoulders, and quite handsome if I could be any judge. He seemed out of place, there being no other race colors represented in the lounge or the dining area of this good ol' American white restaurant.

I looked away as the hostess met up with him and figured I would try something out of character and probably stupid. I was going to ask that woman if she would let me buy her dinner.

"What do I owe you," I asked the bartender reaching into a front pocket for my cash.

"Ten, fifty," He said after looking at my chit.

I dropped thirteen bucks on the counter and rose to take the plunge. I stopped dead in my tracks however, when I turned to face the woman's direction. The black man was leaning way down to lend her some help in kissing him on the cheek.

I thought maybe my eyes were deceiving me. Forget the race differences, this was my fetish in spades! I loved short women! This was a short woman compared to me! This woman was an ant compared to the big black guy holding her chair now! That lucky son-of-a-bitch, I thought.

I fell back in my stool and my jaw hung down. As if in a daze, I let my head swivel to avoid eye contact with the surprise couple, while continuing to try to sort out what had just happened. "Perfect look, shape and size woman walks by to table alone," I considered." I get up courage to go ask her for dinner, and some huge black stud wanders in and takes over before I get out of the box. What kind luck is THAT!"

And as if that were not enough stimulus to get my brain racking, my gaze fell automatically on the other single female dinner guest sitting beside the flowered panel. To my utter amazement, her jaw was just as gaping as mine, while she looked through the flowers at what I could only surmise was the other woman. What in the world was happening here? Were they connected?

The black man sat down with the older woman and they began to talk over menu's. I looked back at the younger woman and she simply stared at them, jaw still down, nothing in her hands, and seemingly straining to hear what obviously was far too far away.

The black man was saying something to the woman when suddenly the woman blushed visibly. She was uncomfortable, but I surmised in a way she wanted to be. This was obvious as one of her two hands that had moved to her mouth in some kind of show of embarrassment or surprise, suddenly moved to one of his hands, and rested on it. She then smiled at him, batted her eyes once or twice, and then looked down at what could only be her chest before looking again at the menu. Somehow, I could tell the menu was the last thing on her mind.

I glanced back at the younger image. I tried to look beyond her similarities with the other woman and finally noticed her apparel. Wearing a turquoise, silky, front buttoning blouse, and who knows what for a bottom, she stood out like a neon light at the table. Her hair was glistening, and I noticed now in different light that the other lady was as much red as brown too. Were these two related? The possibilities were racing through my mind.

Younger woman was still fixated on the targets at the other table, and ignoring the waiter standing beside her. Finally, she looked quickly up at him, said something abruptly, and motioned him away with the flick of her wrist. He didn't look too happy at the dismissal.

I had an inspiration. This girl, and to me an older man she was still a girl, was overly involved with thoughts of something to do with the other couple. Maybe she would be either receptive, or distracted enough to entertain a polite pass at conversation from me. I wasn't even thinking about trying to get anywhere with this lovely young lady, at least on the surface, but I sure was piqued in wanting to know what this was all about. I decided to give it a try.

Checking to see that my money was still on the bar in payment of my drinks, I ventured to her table. "Pardon me, and I have no right to ask you to do so, but something tells me that, well, you might make interesting conversation for a dinner I would love to buy for both of us."

She looked up at me quickly as I started to speak, about to give me the same dismissal she gave the waiter, when I added, "And I promise to help in anyway I can with your dilemma over the couple at the other table." I nodded without looking in the direction of the other woman and her black dinner companion. I also smiled involuntarily at my secretive but spontaneous promise. It must have been the silly smile that prompted her to reconsider what was to be her quick dismissal of me too.

She looked at me seriously for another minute, and then asked, "Is it that obvious?"

"I am sorry, but yes. Anyone else in this restaurant might have missed the connection, but you two just happen to be what I would call "Dream Dates" and I couldn't help observing you both. The connection became obvious quickly." What connection, I asked myself? As she leaned back a bit I felt I was loosing her. I have always had this tendency to be immediately frank and open with people, especially those I either trust, or want to trust me. It usually scares people off. I added, "I'm sorry. That is probably more detail than you wanted to hear, but…"

She interrupted me with, "No. No, not at all. I was thinking more "refreshing," than anything else. Unusual. Sit down, Mr. …." She motioned me to a chair beside, rather than across from her at her table.

"Williams. Jason Williams." I offered. "Any you?" I asked.

"Gina, Gina Anderson." She answered, offering her hand to shake.

I took it and said, "And at the other table is Mrs. Anderson?" I couldn't help blurting out the suspicion.

"Why, yes. How did you… oops. It must be pretty obvious." She was blushing just like her mother had earlier.

"Well, not obvious. I took a chance, but the odds were with me I guess." She was now smiling at me. "I kind of put two and two together and interpreted five." She was warming more. "So, may I be so bold, as to ask, hmmmm, how do I put this, what has you so concerned about what is going on at the other table? Is it the age difference? Or the racial thing?"

This brought an immediate reaction, as if she had managed to forget what was happening over there, while she concentrated on this strange man she had allowed to sit with her. "What? Oh! No. Neither. I'm pissed, and yet I don't know why. Oh…. I don't know."

"May I be so bold as to ask a question or two?" I was trying to use my most sincere and soft tones, for I was actually beginning to feel sincere and soft. She didn't answer so I asked anyway, "Is your mother divorced?"

She nodded affirmatively.

"Is she divorced for some time? Like a year or more?"

"No! Six months." Was all she said, while still looking at the couple through the plants.

"And she is dating then, hmmm… too early for you?"

This brought her gaze back to me, with darts ready to fly. "Of course!" But she added quickly, "No! I mean, well, Daddy is not even in the state anymore, but sheesh! She shouldn't be out around town, where people know us, with some, some, some.."

"Hunk?" I offered.

She fumed at me, and then caved into her chair. I had hit the nerve on the first attempt. She was mad with her mom for dating early, to a certain extent, but probably not that mad given the derogatory manor in which she mentioned her dad. She was maybe twenty-four, or five, this young lady, and certainly good looking as could be as far as I was concerned, but probably not that lucky yet with her love life. She was jealous, jealous of her mother's immediate success at snagging a perfect dream of a partner, regardless of what the definition of that dream might be. And I suspected that this vivacious young lady had had similar fantasies to her mom. Poor thing. And she is saddled here with an old man, while her mother was about to eat with and do whatever else with this lover from both their dreams. Life was just not fair.

I wanted to help her more than anything else now, and tried to think of how.

"Tough. I can't imagine what I would feel in your shoes." This seemed to strike a fair note with her so I continued. "We all have our lives to live you know, and sometimes that's the only explanation. Let me ask you something." I waited for her to respond or send me away.

She continued her gaze at the other couple and said, "Yes?"

"I am going way out on a limb here, and you don't know me from Adam, but let me make a suggestion." I had no idea what specifically I was going to say, but hell, if she went so far as to listen, I'd sure come up with something!

"What is your plan," She asked without moving her eyes. Obviously, I was making headway with this delectable little lady.

"Hmmm… " She had caught me off guard with such a quick concession. "Let's try something." I still didn't know what to say, trying to buy some time. "Let's see," Analyze the facts… "You think this guy is a hunk. So, obviously, must your mom," She looked at me like I was about to insult them both. I frankly still didn't know where I was going with this. Time to put up or shut up. Is there anyone who doesn't love to be the voyeur? "Let's follow them!"

She looked at me in total surprise, an expression that gradually shifted to recognition, and then a smile. I had simply suggested an extension of what she was already doing. Simple. The only surprising thing was, how simple it was.

"All right. Let's." She smiled broadly, turned her body toward me, and picked up the menu. "Well, they're eating, and you DID offer to buy me dinner…"

I laughed and followed her lead. It was a delightful meal. She told me about how silly this whole thing was, that she had really wanted her mom to go out even before now, six months after the divorce, and yet she was admittedly jealous of her choice of first dates, not only for the hunk he was, but also for her mother's surprising worldliness in choosing someone for the pure sexual enjoyment without regard to social stigma that applied locally. She had never seen this side of her mom before. How dare she hide this when all the time the daughter had been trying to change her stuffy attitude toward life. All along, she realized now, her mother had behaved the way her stuffy father had wanted her to, not the way her mother had truly felt and wanted to behave. It was all an act then, for all those years, probably as much for Gina's benefit as for the success of the marriage, and the true mother was coming out now. It was troublesome that her mother had let so much of her life pass without true happiness, but the transition was suddenly promising to be fun. Mom was a real person after all. And daughter, and her mysterious friend me, were about to have some good ol' fashioned voyeuristic fun too.

Chapter 2

Gina, told me all about her life and that of her mother, Veronica, and her dad Vincent. They were a classic conservative family in that Veronica was supposed to be the slave of the house, while Vincent excelled at his career. Gina lived with this more difficultly as the years went by and she learned more and more about life today vs. when her parents had grown up. It had become apparent even to her that the troubles in the relationship between her parents went far beyond just the times they grew up in. Vincent was a tyrant, from a home of similar structure, and little if any love, only tyranny could hold a family together. When it finally came, the divorce was ugly and angry. Times were tough and the future sketchy for quite some time, but thanks to the courts, justice was finally served. The court ordered settlement left Gina and her mom comfortable in the low to middle class, and with only modest concerns for the future. They were both capable women and would do fine. Gina was in fact already moved out and on her own.

"I think we better not have desert with them." I said, pointing out their obvious intentions being displayed with another visit from the waiter after their dishes had been cleared. Our own table was already clear, our excitement having pushed us through the meal at lightening speed. Gina had listened to my own tale of a long term marriage gone boring. She perhaps did not understand, but she sympathized. I could see she was trying to reconcile a lot to try to understand, but it really wasn't that important considering her own dilemma that moment.

"I agree on the desert," She said. "Shouldn't we go outside now? And wait for them in the bushes or something?" Her look was so sincere, her intentions so apparent on her sleeve and her concern for secrecy so obvious I felt like a father to a teenage girl. But I couldn't help but chuckle fondly at her sincerity that moment.

"Sure," I smiled on. "Let's go wait in the bushes." She did a kind of double-take and smiled back at me with a note of skepticism. I paid the check with cash on the table and we carefully worked our way to the entrance the long way around to avoid being seen by her mom. With me at an inch over six feet, and Gina closer to five and a half, she had no problem walking on the blind side of me. We were not noticed.

Once outside, I suggested we wait in my car. It was a cool evening in this small city and there were plenty of lights in the parking lots of the restaurant and the next door Marriott. There were no bushes! We moved to my rental and slid down in the front seat to watch the door to the restaurant over the dash.

Some fifteen minutes later, the couple emerged. If I had looked a little awkward with Gina when we left the restaurant, this couple looked downright ridiculous. The black appeared twice her mom's height, and probably hung like a horse compared to her relatively petite though not insubstantial self. He held her hand, and her hand was thus elevated to about her upper arm level. It was almost comical, and indeed I would have laughed if I'd thought it would not upset Gina.

"Ohhhhh.. myyyyyyy.. Godddddddddddd!!!!" Gina exclaimed. The black hulk and Veronica walked straight next door to the Marriott and went in. "I don't believe it!!!" She was unable to fall off the fence. On one side she would be angry as hell with her mother for a such a lewd and illicit act as a one night stand with a stud she'd never met before, and on the other side she would be hot and horny as her mother to see what the guy had and could do with it. She tried to stay in the middle, but her excitement gave away that she was falling irretrievably to the curious side of that fence.

"Let's go!" She exclaimed. She started to unlatch the door on her side and step out of the car.

"Wait!" I half whispered. I reached across and pulled the door shut again, unable to mask my sudden realization that my arm was pushed right up against her delicious tits. I looked her in the eye in the little light that we had, and realized she was as moved by the brush aas I was. This was going to get interesting after all.

"We ahhh, wait till they go in, and then…." I was trying to think fast again.

"Then what?!" She demanded. She turned away from the door, toward me, and put a hand on my arm to squeeze it for my attention. Instinctive contact again brought our eyes together.

"Here's what we do…"

We agreed on all points, and escape routes if they were necessary, and Gina walked into the hotel lobby about ten paces before me. When I entered, Gina was at the front desk, showing her ID, and receiving a key. She walked around the desk and down the hall toward the elevators. I nonchalantly followed her about five paces behind. We met at the elevator and looked to see no one was watching before speaking.

"You were right!" She was beside herself with glee and amazement. "Mom DID make the room reservation! SHE planned all this! I never would have believed!"

I smiled. You can't live through 55 years of experience and not learn something from it. "So they bought your ID then thinking you were with her." I didn't have to ask. The clerk merely checked her ID to verify she was the right last name, her excuse being that her mother had forgotten to give her her key when they arrived. No clerk is going to doubt the lady, are they?