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A Mistletoe Kiss

By: Otazel



My name is Curtis and a few years ago I was a warehouse porter in a large department store on the high street of our local town. It was the usual sort of high street with the standard line of chain store shops interspersed with a few surviving small businesses, and one of those small businesses was a ladies clothing shop run by its owner and sole employee, a beautiful lady somewhere in (I thought) her mid forties. I found out later that she was actually fifty-three at the time of this story, and that made her exactly twenty-three years older than I was.

Her name was Patricia, although she preferred Trish, and it must be said that she was a very attractive woman, tall - in heels she matched my near six foot height - slim, and elegant, and with a figure that women half her age would have died for. Her face seemed somehow inviting, if you can understand, with friendly brown eyes, full mouth and wide chiselled nose. Her dark hair was shot through with a little grey among the black curls, but that didn't matter because it wasn't just her looks; it was more the way she carried herself, confident and graceful, that made her stand out. But for all that, she wasn't in the slightest bit aloof, in fact she was a very friendly and down to earth person with a smile and a wave for everyone she knew, and that included me.

Almost as soon as I began working nearby she would raise a hand and smile in recognition each time each time I walked past on the way to the sandwich shop, and I would smile and wave back. Then I began to put my head in the door and say hello, and this soon escalated into me calling in for a quick chat if there were no customers in the shop.

Our chat's were about everything and nothing, ranging from the state of trade, to the weather, to pretty much any subject that came up. They were always fairly innocuous, although there might be a little gentle teasing from either side or even, from my side, a little light flirting, although it was never heavy and never expected to be. Well, I mean, how could it be when I was a rather grubby porter and she was the sophisticated owner of her own business? I'd get a smile and then she'd gently put me back in my place with some appropriate, but never unkind, riposte, and we'd change the subject. 

Then one day in February I called in to find her with an uncharacteristic frown on her face.

'Not a good day?' I asked.

'No, the day's fine.' She answered. 'It's my head that isn't. I'm just trying to work out an order for winter stock, and especially what I might need for Christmas itself, and I feel like I'm going around in circles. Order too much and I'm stuck with it, order too little and people moan that I haven't got what they want.'

'Christmas stock already?' I couldn't suppress my surprise. 'But it's only just gone.'

'Yes, I'm afraid we have to think way ahead in this business.'

'Right.' I grinned with impulsive bravado. 'I'll have to contact my supplier and put my Christmas order in then, won't I?'

'What have you got to order?' She asked, her face a mask of bewilderment. 'You don't order for the shop, do you?'

'No. I mean my personal order.' I was grinning more widely by now.

'Go on.' She told me, realising there was some kind of joke coming. 'I'll bite.'

'Well,' I told her, trying to look serious. 'I'm going to order some mistletoe, so that I can come in here on Christmas Eve and give you a scare.'

She stifled an embarrassed giggle. 

'Be careful, how do you know it wouldn't be me giving you a scare if you did?' She asked, her head tipped coquettishly to one side.

'I don't.' I admitted, not quite sure what she meant.

The subject was smoothly changed then, and I found myself talking about how the various holidays got their names. But her remark stuck in my head and I was still thinking about it as Christmas itself came nearer again. I wondered if I dare take a sprig of mistletoe in to her, or would that be pushing my luck too far. Oh, well, nothing ventured and all that, so the day before I went out and bought some.

Christmas Eve came and the warehouse staff finished early, leaving the shop staff to deal with the last minute shoppers. A couple of beers with my workmates and I was on my way home - past the shop that Trish ran. Except, of course, that I didn't go past. 

'Hello.' She smiled at me as I came through the door. 'Finished for the holiday?' 

'Yes, haven't you?' She was wearing a light grey suit over a white blouse, and looking absolutely stunning.

'Another half an hour maybe, and then I'll call it a day.' She stopped and looked about her as if to see if there was a hidden customer or two, then changed the subject. 'Are you doing anything nice this Christmas?'

I'd been wondering how to get to where I wanted, and this was the ideal lead in. 'Yes, I've got something in mind. That's why I'm here.'

'Oh?' She cocked her head to one side as she so often did and looked at me curiously.

'I've come for my scare.'

'Scare?' Her brows knitted in bewilderment. She had clearly forgotten our conversation of so long ago.

I pulled the tiny sprig of mistletoe from my pocket and held it out towards her. 'Yes, don't you remember? You said that if I came in with mistletoe you'd give me a scare, unless that was another name for a kiss? So I've come for my scare, whichever it was.'

For a moment the bewilderment intensified, and then her brown eyes lit up and she burst into laughter as she remembered. 'My god, you've got a heck of a memory. That was last year, almost anyway.'

I just smiled and held the mistletoe over my head.

'I don't quite think that's exactly what I said.' She was trying to look stern and failing. 'It's a long time ago, but I think you said it would scare me, and then I think I told you to be careful it wasn't the other way around.'

'I'll take the risk.' I still had the mistletoe above my head.

She giggled girlishly again and then, with a quick look around to make sure no one was watching, she came over and kissed me quickly on the lips. The contact was very fleeting, but I was so conscious of the softness of her full lips and delicate scent of her perfume that it took me a moment or two to get my head back together.

'Is that it?' I teased. 'That didn't scare me.'

'It did me.'

I couldn't make sense of that remark, and so I pressed my luck a little further. 

'I don't know why. I didn't even put my arms round you.'

'I know you didn't, and it's probably just as well.'

I got the distinct impression that she had wanted to, but daren't. For a brief moment I thought I could see just a hint of a longing in her expression, although I couldn't be sure. But it gave me the nerve to push it a little bit further. After all, she was such a beautiful woman and not the kind I'd ever kissed before.

'Come on. Give me a proper kiss, I won't tell anyone.'

She looked at me uncertainly. 'Are you sure you want one from me?'

'You can count it as a Christmas present to me if you like.'

'I don't think we should, not really.'

'It's only a kiss.' A kiss was genuinely all I was looking for. I just wanted to find out if the previous indication of her being a brilliant kisser was right or not. 'Nobody will know, so what will it matter?' 

I lowered the mistletoe and pushed it back into my pocket. Somehow it had gone from a light-hearted Christmas kiss to the real thing, and strangely that seemed to suit her better, for I could see that she was wavering. She gave me a strange look, as if to say "I hope you know what you're doing".

'What if anyone sees us?'

I cheered silently in triumph. 'The stockroom?' 

She looked around her, and then out onto nearly deserted street, and then grabbed my hand, leading me hastily towards the back of the shop. When I think back, that was the only physical contact we'd ever had apart from the momentary meeting of our lips a couple of minutes earlier, and I'd known her to talk to for nearly two years.

The stockroom served as an office, a storeroom and a place to go during lunch breaks, so it was obviously pretty cluttered. But then we weren't going to need that much room to share a kiss. She leaned her bottom back on the edge of the old wooden table that was used for lunches, and turned to face me.

'Wait.' I said, as I pulled off my coat, damp from winter drizzle, and hung it behind the door. 'Now I'm ready.'

'One kiss.' She warned me as I came closer.

'One kiss.' I confirmed as I reached out for her.

There was just a second's hesitation before she reached out too, and then we went towards each other until our faces were just inches apart. I looked into the dark pools of liquid chocolate that she had instead of eyes, then she closed them and our mouths came together in a longer kiss. 

Her full lips were as soft and sweet as that first brief kiss had suggested and her body, pressed more firmly against mine than I had expected, felt wonderful. My arms went around her back as hers went around mine, and we kind of moulded into each other.  

It wasn't a full on lovers kiss, because although our lips were parted our tongue stayed firmly in our own mouths. Nonetheless it was the best Christmas kiss I've ever had, and it seemed to last for ages before, breathlessly and reluctantly, we drew apart.

We didn't part completely, neither of us wanted to. I kept my hands resting on her waist and hers stayed on my shoulders, as if we were holding each other at a distance while we understood the effects of that first real kiss. Her eyes looked searchingly into mine and although I didn't then understand what she was searching for, I do now. She stared at me silently for a good sixty seconds, making me feel just a little uneasy, before she closed her eyes once more, gave a tiny little groan and pulled me back towards her. 

This time it was a full on kiss. There was an excited urgency in her, as if the decision to kiss me properly had been made and had to be acted upon straight away, and this time her mouth was pressed firmly onto mine, her tongue finding its way between my rather startled lips.

Startled or not, I couldn't help reacting and our tongues were quickly dancing around each other, fencing and probing into each other's mouths, while our lips mashed harder together. I soon felt my cock begin to respond within the confines of my jeans, lengthening and straightening uncomfortably. I moved slightly, trying to avoid pressing it against her, but she must have felt it anyway, for she groaned for a second time and her body rubbed sinuously against me. 

Her arms were around me in earnest now, hands stroking me, clawing at my sweatshirt, pulling it out of my jeans by accident or design until her fingertips found my bare skin and she burrowed under to massage my back with the flat of her palms. It was as if she had suddenly lost control, and I must admit that I was both turned on and, as she had predicted, a little bit scared. It was not the reaction to an innocent mistletoe kiss that I had expected, not that I was complaining.

Unexpectedly it seemed possible that a seasonal kiss was going to turn into something much more erotic, something much more thrilling than I'd ever thought possible. I didn't know how far she was willing for things to go, but I was sure as hell going to find out. I copied her, reaching under the jacket of her suit to find her blouse and pull it loose from her skirt, my hands quickly finding their way under it to feel soft warm skin. She groaned into my mouth as I slid my hand up her back, going between her bra strap and her skin, pulling her closer still and then fumbling at the fastening, wanting it out of the way, wanting to feel an uninterrupted stretch of smooth skin as much as anything.

Suddenly she wriggled out of my arms, pushing me away. That, I thought, is that, I've gone too far, but rather than appearing angry she seemed bewildered, confused. She held up a hand.

'Wait.'

For a split second I wondered what for, but then I heard her heels across the shop floor and the snick of the door catch dropping, and with some relief I understood. The sounds of light switches darkening the shop itself confirmed my thoughts. It wouldn't do to get caught by some last minute customer.

'I guess I'm closed for the holiday.' She smiled self-consciously as she came back, stopping a few feet away from me to gather herself.

She seemed much less anxious now, as if she understood what was happening and was ready for it. She was a woman used to being in command of herself and now she reassumed that control by deliberately watching me as she took off her jacket and hung it carefully on the back of a chair before slowly and seductively unbuttoning her white silk blouse. Unfastened, she let it fall to the floor of its own accord, but instead of picking it up she calmly ignored it, consciously standing facing me so that I could look at her, her white bra standing out against her skin.

'It's what you want, isn't it?' She asked, her voice taut and the message plain.

'Yes.' I answered directly. 'Do you?'

'Yes, oh yes.' She smiled again, this time a wry kind of smile. 'Ever since we first met. But I thought I might frighten you away if I did anything about it. I couldn't see you wanting a woman of my sort.'

Then I understood what she had meant by being scared to kiss me under the mistletoe, and I also knew what she meant by a woman of "my sort". She was worried that I wouldn't want her because she was black. But she couldn't have been more wrong. I'd long hankered to make love to "her sort" of woman, especially one as stunningly beautiful as she was. 

'And I didn't think you'd fancy a scruffy young guy of any sort.'

'Then we were both wrong, weren't we.' She cocked her head in that old familiar way and then bent to pick up her blouse, letting the dark fullness of her breasts show over her half cup bra. I felt my mouth go dry and my heart begin to beat faster in sudden anticipation.

She draped the blouse over her jacket and turned back towards me, standing still as if wondering what to do next. This time it was my turn to hesitate momentarily, but then I reached out, grabbed her hand and hauled her the short distance back into my arms.

There was no reticence now. We kissed like there was no tomorrow, our arms holding each other close and little pleasure noises coming from both of our throats. Very soon, with our mouths still glued together and our tongues intertwined like mating snakes Trish was tugging at my sweatshirt, impatiently trying to get it over my head without breaking our clinch while I struggled manfully with her bra catch. Eventually we both admitted defeat and parted long enough for my shirt to be hauled off and her bra to join it on the floor.

Breathing harder from arousal and from such intense kissing we stood for a minute and looked at each other naked to the waist. I'm in reasonable shape, my job sees to that, so I didn't mind her eyes on me, and nor did I mind when her hand came out to run through my chest hair and down over the flat of my belly. It was a lovely erotic sensation.

For my part I couldn't help but stare, because her exposed breasts were magnificent, full sweet brown orbs tipped with long nipples so dark they appeared almost tinged purple. I just stood and looked, and licked dry lips, an action that made her giggle girlishly again. She wanted me to look, I could tell, for she stood with her arms pressed against her sides to accentuate the fullness of her bosom, her hands by her sides as she watched me staring at the rise and fall of her breasts. I must admit that I was entranced, both by the sight before me and by the fact that I'd got to see it in the first place. I don't think I would ever have torn my eyes free if she hadn't turned away to hang her bra over her other clothes and broken the spell.

This time when she turned back she reached for the zip at the side of her skirt before we became too entangled, popping the button and releasing it to fall and pool around her feet. If I'd thought she was beautiful before, then now there could never be any doubt. Her stomach was flat, her legs were long and firm, athlete's legs that joined where a lovely mound showed through her tiny white panties. The contrast between her brown skin and those little panties was so damn striking, especially as she wore hold-ups that seemed to enhance the firmness of her thighs. Then she kicked off her shoes, bent to collect them and her skirt and added them tidily to the pile of clothes before she stood passively to face me once more.

'Do you like what you see?' She asked. 

I nodded as I tried to get my voice to work. 'Yes.'

'Really.'

'Yes, really.'

'Can I check that out?' Trish looked meaningfully and mischievously at the front of my jeans.

I stepped closer, reaching out and cupping her breasts for a few short seconds until she bent and took them out of my reach. But the memory of that brief contact stayed with me, even as I felt her fiddling with my belt buckle, the warm weight of flesh in my palms, the hardness of nipples on my skin, and the firm fullness of lovely dark breasts. Then for a moment my jeans tightened as she pulled my belt undone before I felt the vibration of my zip descending and my jeans being pulled down, driving the memory of her breasts into the back of my mind. She crouched in front of me, wriggling tight jeans down my legs.

'Damn, I can't do it.'

Just for a moment I thought that she was backing out, losing her bottle, but then I realised she that I still had my shoes on and she couldn't get my jeans off. I smiled to myself and put a toe behind each heel in turn, steadying myself with my hands on her shoulders as I pushed my trainers off, still fastened. Then, still with my ands on her shoulders, I lifted each foot in turn for her to finish the job.

Still crouching in front of me in the tiny stockroom Trish swiftly ran her hands up my bare thighs until she reached my shorts, then she ran her hands lightly over the cotton material, softly stroking the length of my cock with a faint growl of approval and need, and making me close my eyes with the sudden pleasure. Then, hooking her fingers into my waistband, she began to drag them down, eagerly pulling them away from my body at the front to allow my very erect cock to spring free. Her eyes pinned themselves to it as she removed my shorts and my socks, my hands still on her shoulders for balance, leaving me totally naked before her.

'I'm glad you locked that door.' I whispered jokingly, looking down as she stared at my erection, her hand reaching forward to close around my shaft.

'So am I.' She replied more seriously. 'My husband is not a forgiving man.'

Up to that point to had never even occurred to me that she might be married, but a quick glance at her finger revealed the wedding ring that I had probably deliberately not seen. I know it should have done, but for some reason it didn't seem to matter, I think I would have taken any risk right then to be right where I was.

'That's nice.' I told her as she ran her hand along my cock, sweeping the pad of one finger over the head each time. She flicked a quick smile up at me and then quickly leaned forward. 

'Oh god, that's even nicer.' I told her as her mouth closed over the head of my cock.

She didn't suck me for long, her head dipped just three or four times to take me deep into her mouth before she pulled herself away and stood up, facing me with an oddly shy smile on her face. 'Sorry, but I just had to do that.'

'Hey.' I told her. 'You think I'm going to complain?'

'No, but I don't want to seem a tease, it's just that I'd never done to a white man before.'

'And I'd never had a black woman do it, so now we're quits.' I told her, pulling her close again and kissing her on the mouth, enjoying the pressure of her breasts on my chest and the feel of my cock against her belly.


A Mistletoe Kiss



I wanted to feel her breasts in my hands again, but she was pulling me too close for that, with one arm around my back, fingertips digging into my skin, and one behind my head, making sure that I didn't back away from her kisses. Meanwhile, as I couldn't stroke her front, my hands were around her back, holding her close while sliding in turn up and down her the long line of her spine and round the soft upper curves of her bottom, just skirting the elastic of her panties. I think we were both moaning softly from the wonderful sensations, she certainly was and I'm pretty sure not all of the noises were hers. 

We both wanted more, needed everything, but neither of us knew quite how to get there. I don't mean we didn't know what to do, of course we did, it was more that we both needed each other too urgently but we didn't want to miss out on the lead up either. My hands were all over her back, caressing, rubbing, massaging, just soaking in the sensations, and while her hands were comparatively still, her fingertips worked at my skin, and her mouth and tongue made her own eagerness obvious. Something would soon have to give.

Then, out of the side of my eye, I caught sight of our reflections in a full length shop mirror that had been wheeled into the stockroom at some time. I twisted free and, smiling inside at the puzzled look on her face, I spun her around to face the mirror, coming to stand behind her and pass my hands under her arms to cup her breasts again. She leaned back onto me as I squeezed the firm flesh, both of us watching the mirror, dark breasts held in pale hands, black nipples peeking between white fingers. She placed her hands over mine, making me squeeze harder, and I kissed the side of her neck as I listened to the little noises she made in her throat.

'Are we...?' She asked, leaving the question hanging in the air.

'I want to.' I told her, hearing a catch in my voice.

'Me too.' He hands left mine and moved to the waistband of her panties.

'No! Let me.' I wanted to finish undressing her; it was just something I needed to do.

She turned to face me and I dropped onto one knee, my fingers reaching eagerly for her panties, hooking her waistband, scratching at her skin in my haste. They slipped down her legs and, just as I had, she steadied herself with her hands on my shoulders to let me work them over her feet, before she parted her feet, purposely giving me a partial view of her cleft. Then I looked at what was straight in front of me and promptly glanced up at Trish's face in surprise.

'Don't you like it like that?' She asked, sounding just a little bit anxious. 'It is too wiry and curly when it's natural, so I keep it shaved off.'

'It's gorgeous.' I told her, absolutely meaning it. 

Her brown skin darkened into her cleft, so that the edges of her smoothly shaven labia were nearly black, emphasizing the beautiful pink interior. I reached out and stroked her mons and the top of her pussy with the backs of my fingers, soaking up the feeling of the perfectly smooth skin and realising that she must have shaved that morning with no knowledge of what was to come. I knew exactly what I wanted to do.

I stood up and, wrapping my arms around her waist, I picked her up, my cock rubbing against her front as I lifted her. She opened her legs around me, thinking I suppose that I was going to plant her onto my cock, but I wasn't. Instead I planted her on the table she had leaned on earlier and pushed her legs wide apart. For a few seconds I gazed hungrily at the lovely shiny pink slit that contrasted so delightfully with her dark chocolate labia. She had the most gorgeous pussy even without the lovely colours, for her outer labia were smooth and puffy, her inner ones small enough to reveal her open vagina, waiting and slippery, and her clitoris stood there, peering out from under its hood, a little button just the right size to be licked. 

That was exactly what I wanted to do. I used my thumbs to hold her labia wide open and leaned forward, my tongue already out and eager for that first taste of a black woman's pussy. Seeing what I intended she leaned back, supporting herself partially on her elbows and partially on the wall behind her, and raised her feet to rest on the table, leaving herself totally exposed to my tongue. I don't know what I expected her to taste like, I'd never tasted a black pussy before and for a crazy moment I half expected her to taste like chocolate. But of course she didn't - she tasted like woman, all woman, beautiful woman, with the musky scent of a randy female.

'Oh, yes please.' She sounded a little breathless from excitement as my tongue swept along the length of her slit for the first time. 

At first I just licked the length of her pussy, from vagina to clitoris and back again, listening to the sounds of her pleasure, the little gasps and moans she made. But then I started to focus on one part of her after another, pushing my tongue as far into her as I could, licking around the inside of her vagina before moving up and sucking her clitoris into my mouth. I would give it a couple of quick flicks with the tip of my tongue and then lick my way down her slit again, running my tongue deliberately and slowly down the inside of her pussy lips, skirting past her opening, crossing her perineum and then up the other side. I was teasing her, deliberately getting her as aroused as I could. I wanted to fuck her, but I wanted to make her come first as well. 

Perhaps I pushed that too far, beyond her endurance, because as I licked her clitoris again she moved a little to get one hand free and entangle it in my hair, pushing my mouth into her and holding me against her slit. I took the hint, sucking at her clit and then nipping it between lip covered teeth, licking and lapping at its tip until I felt her begin to buck and wriggle as her orgasm drew nearer.

'I'm coming.'

She didn't have to tell me, I could already tell, her hand gripped my hair to the point of pain, and her bottom began to lift from the table, supported by her bent legs, as her hips thrust at my mouth. Her noises, her gasps and groans, intensified, becoming louder and running one into the other and her movements more pronounced until she gave one long hissing exhale and rubbed her pussy onto my mouth. I could no longer lick or suck her and so I just kept my tongue out and let her rub herself off on it. It was a strange experience, but I'll willingly admit that I enjoyed knowing that I was giving her so much uncontrolled enjoyment. And she really was enjoying it, her orgasm was one of the strongest and longest I've ever seen in a woman and before she had done my jaw and my tongue were both aching. Eventually of course she slowed and her wild thrusts became just little jerks and shudders, her grip on my hair finally loosened, and I was finally able to come up for air.

I raised my head and looked at her face, chuckling to myself when I realised that we were both fighting for breath, but for every different reasons. She looked down between her open legs and smiled at me.

'Your face is all wet' 

'That's your fault.' I told her.

'Yes.' She agreed, and then paused. 'Fuck me.' 

I looked at her sharply, not because I didn't want to, but because I didn't expect such and elegant lady to suddenly put it so bluntly. It was surprise that made me hesitate, not any unwillingness on my part.

'Come on, fuck me.' She reached down with both hands hooking under my arms to drag me up between her legs. There was an air almost of desperation about her need. 'Come on, do it.'

I reached down and guided my cock to her pussy, hearing a little moan of satisfaction as it slid inside. Then as soon as I was buried inside her she put her arms around me, dragged me down on top of her across the table and began to kiss my face, kissing away her own wetness from my skin until she could find no more.

Having my cock inside her felt fabulous, she was wet and warm, her passage soft and silky but surprisingly tight around me, and as I thrust into her she pushed back at me, still making little gasping noises with each thrust. But apart from those involuntary pleasure noises and the heavy sounds of our breathing we fucked in silence, both of us in our own little world of ecstasy. She lay with her eyes closed, her soft full lips slightly parted, and her arms wrapped tightly around my back. I gazed down at her, breathing heavily as I plunged into her body, my hands hooked under her shoulders to hold her still.

It was never going to take long. She was still hot from her recent orgasm and I was so turned on I was never going to last. Very soon I felt a climax growing, that hot and intense sensation building at the base of my cock. It was my turn to warn Trish this time.

'It won't be long.' I whispered urgently. 'I'm gonna come soon.'

'Good.' She replied, gripping my back even harder. 'So am I.'

As it turned out it was she who came first, beating me to it by a matter of a heartbeat or two. I felt her begin to stiffen under me, her arms tightening around me and her fingertips digging into my flesh, and then she began to gasp loudly in my ear with little groans and noises. At the same time the pressure in my balls was getting to the point of no return and I was losing coordination in my thrusts, driving myself uncontrollably harder into her. I was within a hairs breadth of shooting my load into her pussy when she came, jerking up at me and calling out unintelligible words. Then I was there. I felt the first spurt race along my cock and flood out into her pussy just as her passage began to contract rhythmically around my cock, squeezing and releasing it in time to my thrusts as if milking me of my cream. I've never had that happen before, never felt a woman's vagina pulse like that as she came with me inside her, and it added vastly to the pure pleasure of our sex. Even when she had come and I was going soft inside her, still her vagina contracted intermittently until I eventually slipped out of her, my cock too soft and slippery to stay inside any longer.

'God, that was good.' I panted, still bent over her and just holding myself up with my arms.

'Yes.' She said, breathing just as heavily as I was, but looking up at ne with a strangely wistful, almost regretful, look on her face.

'All right?' I asked her, wondering if I'd done something wrong. 'Didn't you want me to come inside you?'

'Oh yes, that was wonderful.'

'Maybe next time I'll come in your mouth.' 

I don't know what made me say that, and the minute the words left my lips I regretted them, though I needn't have worried.

'You want there to be a next time?' She asked me, surprised.

'Why, don't you?' I replied, as if my wish was obvious.

'Yes I do. I want lots of next times.' She gave me that wistful look again. 'But I'm older for one thing, and I'm black for another. Do you really want to keep having sex with an old black woman?'

'If we put the lights out, neither of us will notice.'