You won’t know me, you may have seen me in the bar but probably wouldn’t have registered..I am just the old bloke in the corner of the bar lost in thought, staring into his beer, (bitter of course) and in a dimpled jug with a handle. In truth even if I had registered you I doubt if you would care, all you would see is grey hair, thinning, a face full of wrinkles giving morose sad air, uninviting, alone. But you don’t know what i can see in those dimples. Faces from the past looking back at me triggering memories, faces of those who, for brief moments in time, or sometimes for longer, meant something intense to me., faces once vibrant and animated now dead Concentrating i saw in one of the dimples TD who worked for me in Africa, who had a complete inability to restrain her magnificent black breasts. I tried so hard to avoid staring, but even though i was looking into her eyes her breasts were on the periphery of my vision. Finally it was time for me to leave the country, and i was proud that i hadn’t allowed temptation to take over. A week before I was due to leave I was giving away the last my possessions and she came round to collect them. The house was empty, just a two seater settee and we sat alongside each other reminiscing about our times together, the people we had met, the fun and we were both sad that it had come to an end. As always her breasts were struggling to escape and i allowed myself a look, when i raised my eyes she was watching me. “I don’t mind you looking, you’ve seen them before!” “I always tried not to let you see!” “You failed!” I looked again and for the first time took a long time looking, then reached over and ran my hands over them. She stopped me then stood and lifted her top, reached behind and unhooked her bra. Released her breasts were very full round with dark nipples. I reached again cupped them, weighed them and rolled her nipples between my thumb and forefinger. I can see again the smile, her brilliant white teeth and her tongue licking her lips as she covered my hands with hers. I was nervous and my hands were shaking, she could feel it, and stood up and simply said, “Is it through here?” I nodded and we went to the bedroom. We didn’t make love, she made love to me, straddling me her hips seemed to move independently, as she lowered herself onto me, she wanked me with her muscles, leaning over me, heavy black breasts swinging as she moved faster sweet sweat dropping from her onto my face. I came, too quickly, “Sorry i couldn’t help it!” She said nothing just moved up my body until she was kneeling across my face, gently she lowered herself and i licked her, tasting my sperm mixed with her wetness. She moved slowly sensuously then faster until she came... hard... as she pressed down onto my face and she shuddered, crying out then relaxed. We met and made love, fucked, often and dangerously, in my office, where she worked, even at her house when her partner was at work. Eventually I left and we never had contact again...but I heard later that she had died of AIDS, the fate of so many in Africa. In another dimple i could see CG looking back at me who I worked with in Nigeria. Nigeria in the early 1970’s was a scary place with a succession of coups, when the country went into lockdown, and you could hear shouts and shots, and occasional screams CG worked for me, and she was having trouble with one of the employees, I usually leave problems like that to the local manager, in this case CG, but she specifically requested me to help. The problem was of course that I was based in Northern Nigeria and the problem issue was in the south, I flew down and as always stayed in the company flat, a two bed roomed flat in Lagos. One that was reserved for visiting managers, in this case me, and one that was hers. We solved the problem eventually, I sacked him!, and i mean I sacked him not CG. When we got back to the flat she apologised for having to call me and we talked through the problem and how she should reolve it if it happened again.. we had a drink and then she went to get ready to go out. I settled down with my book and a bottle of beer, before having an early nght, (sorry this is a bit boring...but then real life can be.. )I was asleep when i heard her return, but i soon dropped off again.. Remember this is tropical Nigeria so all I had covering me was a cotton sheet. From the depths of my sleep I heard my name being softly called, CG was standing at the door in a very large unsexy bathtowel. “Are you ok?”I asked, “That really upset me tonight..thank you for helping me out i appreciate it!” “Not a problem ..its my job if you ever need me to talk.......... ” I sat up, blinked the sleep from my eyes, covered by lower body with the sheet and we talked, not just about the latest issue but of the problems of being a woman working in a male dominated highly competitive business environment. “ Most of the time it’s fine and i can hold it together but just occasionally I miss having someone to talk to and cuddle” It seemed appropriate to reach out and touch her arm and tell her what a great job she was doing and that she was the equal of all of us. She leant forward and i lifted my arm and we held each other not overtly sexually just to comfort her. She laid her head on my chest and we just lay there, looking down the towel had moved and half of one breast was exposed, and i could feel her breath against the hairs on my chest. I began to get an erection which pushed up against the thin sheet. She turned her face upwards and we kissed and i rolled her onto her back and opened the towel. Extricating my arm from under her i moved across her and kissed her lips before moving down and finally eased her legs open and licked her. She orgasmed quickly “sorry it’s been a while!” “Oh I thought it was because i was such a good lover!” She smiled, reached down and guided me into her, immediately wrapping her legs high around my waist, and thrusting up to me, and again orgasmed gasping into my neck. I pulled out quickly before i came, and we rested, hot sticky bodies together. Finally she pushed me off and onto my back then kissing down my body took me into her mouth sucking slowly fingers cupping my balls. Her nipples brushed my thighs and again too soon I came and she sucked me before turning and wiping her mouth on the towel. In the morning nothing was said and i flew out. When we met again it was strictly professional, and it was only when she finally resigned to go as a mature student to study law and i was saying goodbye that she leant forward to say goodbye that she whispered “Thank you for everything! and I mean everything!” She went on to become a very successful Lawyer and recently I read that she had died. Just one memorable night that wasn’t , and could not have been, repeated. There are so many dimples and so many faces, the married lady who loved our clandestine meetings especially as her husband was incredibly and violently jealous: the local lady who was so orgasmic that she would cry out for me to stop and not to stop at the same time, who moved away when she found someone else and the next i heard was in a facebook message from her family that she too had died. But i am aware that this is getting boring so leave me with my memories and my beer and most of all my regrets that will probably never gain know the exquisite pleasure of making love to a woman and know that one day this will be you, so gather your memories about you and never forget