He said his eyes were blue and although she hadn’t seen blue for many years, it was the color she remembered fondly as her favorite, the one color she missed the most. Blue was a mountain lake surrounded by green spiraling peaks that she dangled her toes in with GrandDad watching as he smoked his pipe. Blue was the color of the sky on certain days. The shade of the ocean on other days. When they contrasted against each other on the horizon with vertical puffs of white cotton cloud ascending; it was one of the most beautiful sights she remembered. Blue was Baby Blue and ‘Ole Blue Eyes and Little Boy Blue.
This gentleman who she had met only days before in the coffee shop, who was now sitting across the dinner table from her, had said he had Baby Blues. Perhaps, at least in her minds eye, they were perfectly Robin’s Egg Blue, the hue that looked straight through to your heart and planted it’s arrow dead center, bull’s eye, no going back blue.
His voice was music. His words were magical tenor. Every syllable, each intonation was a soft melody. The keys upon the board gently tuned and played to her ear. The trumpet, his words inflating compliments at perfect pitch. The sound of his smile, a violin strung, tuned, played a composition to accompany her smile.
The skin on his hands felt rough, the hands of a workman. Stubbled cuticles with badly chapped skin. He apologized. It’s my work, you know, they dry out. They were the hands of a strong, outdoors worker. Big, safe hands.
His face was clean, soft to the touch, and kind. His face actually felt kind. Smooth and English felt his nose, blending into slightly prominent cheekbones. His jaw was strong and square of shape under her findertips. Large, rounded, understanding were his eyes. Soft, supple thoughtfullness under gently closed lids as her hand traced his every detail.
Throughout their evening she sensed the fragrance of a perfect smattering of after shave which, while blended with his natural musk, lended to his masculine allure.
He made the conversation flow easily, though she must confess, with his viscerally handsome presence, she at times, could barely talk. As a child she’d had to overcome somewhat of a shy streak. Thankfully his wit was crackerjack smart and kept her laughing throughout their entire dinner.
While the evening lingered so also did her thoughts. She wondered to herself how his rich, full lips would feel gently pressed against hers. Imagining that they would taste as sweet as they felt to her tingling fingertips, she ran them once again across his cheeks, slowing ever so carefully at his mouth. Would he even kiss her goodnight?
The first thing he noticed about her was the quality of her perfume. It wasn’t overdone and it was a perfect match for her own natural body scent.
It was so sensual. The fragrance lingered over the entire evening giving what was already a mystical experience a special quality that was unmatched in his recent memory.
As he took her hand in his he was astonished at how strong her handshake was. A firm and confident grip accompanied her youthful, upbeat hello. Yet, her skin as soft as velvet. Her voice was definitely one of culture and grace. A voice that knew it’s manners but given the hinted up and down whispers of the evening, it was a voice that he knew could sing a song of passion.
Brunette was the color of her hair and thicker than he’d ever felt or seen before. Wavy and thick, sexy. She had small, slightly pouty pink lips, ahhh perfect for kissing! Oh those eyes! Almond shaped, big and brown hiding beneath the lightly tinted shades.
High set cheekbones and long narrow neck, nice neckline on that dress with a little cleavage 😉
She’s got one hot body! Wonder how she keeps it in such good shape? I’d like to keep it in shape! His thoughts ran away with him.
She conversed well although she appeared timid at times. She laughed at all of his jokes and he found her to be of very good humor. Well spoken and well read, educated, kind to humans and animals alike. I even like her dog, he thought, the Black Lab, Finder. I know I’m not supposed to pet a service dog, but how can I help it? He’d had strong reservations about asking her out, given her, well, her differentness. Oh what the hell! I really like this girl. She turns me on in every way. There’s just something very endearing about her, he thought.
As the evening drew to a close, he leaned down slightly, pulled her in to him and wrapped his arms around her. His muscles were taut and ripped. She tensed against his chest, holding him tight, feeling warmth, passion and apprehension all at once. He raised her slenderly carved chin and kissed her tenderly on the mouth. She tasted his full lips and with heated anticipation instantly had her answer.
They saw each other again, though not as blindly, and always taking Finder along. They cherished every moment spent together. Before long they realized that love had unseeingly found them both.
She knew that after all of those crazy, failed set ups by well intentioned friends and family, she and Finder had unwittingly discovered the perfect gentleman for her.
And for him, this insightful lady was his one and only. They’d carve a life together. After all of the years of searching through destitute of vision profiles, failed blind date after failed blind date, he’d finally happened upon his one true love on a real life ‘blind’ date.
They both knew all along that you mustn’t settle. When you are with the person who is just the right one for you, despite any unforseen obstacles, love is truly blind.
And as for Finder? Finder’s always a keeper.