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Red Hair and Black Leather Pt1.

There it was, a discrete look over her shoulder and a slight coy smile. Nothing outrageous, nothing most people would even notice, even the women she was standing with, but I knew I’d finally hooked her and she was ready to be reeled in like a beautiful salmon on a shiny fly.

I’m Shawn, 52, black, six feet 1 inch tall and not as muscular as I used to be but fit enough for my age. I shave my head but have a long grey beard, that one of my workers calls a ‘ZZ Top beard’.

Back in the day I’d bang a different woman a couple of times a week, including while I was married, which explains both my divorces.

I’m a builder by trade, and over the last ten years have built up a portfolio of rental properties that my son and daughter manage, with me occasionally doing ‘debt collecting’ and ‘repairs’ to ‘keep my hand in.’

Otherwise, I’m semi-retired, DJing regularly and doing the school runs with my grandkids.

I play regular sets on Sunday afternoons and Monday evenings at a club-bar across the city, with occasional appearances elsewhere when I can be bothered, but I like to keep Fridays and Saturday’s free.

This particular young woman came to my attention about a couple of months previously in a cool harbourside bar called The Crusty Crab just along from where I have an apartment in the old Weight’s and Measures building, that overlooks the marina.

She was about thirty, married (judging by the gold band and enormous diamond ring on her wedding finger). While I still get ‘more than my fair share’ for a man my age; this last couple of years they’ve mostly been regular women friends that I’ve known for a long time and I’m usually ‘the worse for wear’ when I’ve picked them up at the end of the night, which always means that we have sex, but it’s become less and less exciting in many ways, I especially the ‘thrill of the chase’.

I’d spotted her among a group of women who’d started turning up at The Crusty Crab at about 9pm most Friday nights across the start of the year. She stood out because she was red headed, busty, very pretty bordering on cute, always dressed neat and tidy, showing a little bit of cleavage and progressively wearing shorter skirts and dresses that showed a bit more leg or emphasised her large bust, which I estimated her at being something like a 32c or dd, and always just the right side of ‘sexy’ with very nice legs and ‘that smile’ too.

I already knew one of her friends, Tanya who was married to one of the lads who works for my company, but who wasn’t unknown to occasionally disappear out back for a quickie, so I’d always say ‘hello’ to her and her friends, which led to smiling and nodding at the cutie which always made her blush and look away blushing.

Like most groups in these bars people flitted around like butterflies from group to group, but she never strayed far from her core friends and over the weeks I watched more than one good looking guy get shot down in flames when he tried to ‘chat her up.’

Usually on a Friday night we’d start drinking at about 6.30 in the market square then move down the hill to The Crab on the newly refreshed marina between 8.30 and 9 going our separate ways at closing time at 11, with or without a female conquest. My nightclub days were long gone!

My crew were anywhere between three and seven guys, depending on work/marital commitments, with only me and Montez being single, but he had a clingy married girlfriend who was becoming increasingly jealous of him on our nights out.

Without wanting to sound ‘stalkery’ I noticed that the redhead wouldn’t be out every Friday, usually 3 out of 4, which baffled me.

I’d been away on holiday with my Grandkids so hadn’t been out the previous Friday myself, so was ready for a drink on the first Friday of

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