The Set Up

Fuck I hated blind dates. I don’t even know why I agreed to it, other than Melanie was a good friend, and she was insistent this guy was ‘amazing,’ ‘absolutely perfect for me!’ ‘If I wasn’t taken I’d go for him.’ All direct quotes.

I think she just wanted more couple friends for her and Stan to hang out with. That, and since she was so blissfully happy being in a relationship she felt everyone needed to be as well. Apparently she didn’t hear me when I said I was happy being single.

Yet, here I was, standing in front of a mirror trying on a fifth outfit, unable to decide what to wear to meet this mysterious, amazing man. It was a dinner, nothing fancy, but I didn’t think showing up in sweats was an option. Plus he was cute so I wanted to dress to impress.

So, not a blind date in the traditional sense. Technology makes it almost impossible for that. Melanie had exchanged our numbers and we’d texted a few times, swapping pics so there would be no surprises. His showing a handsome face with dark hair, brown eyes and a kind smile. Our conversations were limited as he had been away for work and I was slammed with new clients; but we’d set the date and time for dinner and would have more time to chat and get to know one another then.

Spinning one more time I throw up my hands in exasperation. I have nothing to wear! I’ve tried pants, skirts, a dress and nothing looked right. I didn’t even know why I was trying so hard. I really was happy to be single. Maybe I needed to shift my perspective, stop looking at this as a date, instead as a nice dinner out with a new friend. Yea, that felt better. Less pressure for sure.

Settling on a black pencil skirt with a slit up the thigh, and a dark blue silk blouse I figured I looked dressy enough without being over the top. Some light makeup, a few accessories and hair curled I was ready. Or as ready as I was gonna be for someone who didn’t do this often.

I was nervous. Even though it was just dinner with a new friend (or at least that’s what I kept telling myself), I felt the butterflies in my stomach. To help quell the tsunami of nerves overwhelming my body I cranked the tunes and sang my heart out on the way to the restaurant.

I pulled up, double checked my make up as the song ended and with a deep breath made my way into the restaurant. I was a bit early so I didn’t expect he would be there yet, but he was. Standing at the hostess station checking in I heard him say his name. He had a nice voice. I stood back and checked him out from behind. He was taller than I was expecting, and I was glad I opted for heels instead of flats. He was wearing slacks and a button down, the sleeves rolled up showing strong forearms. Damn, that was sexy.

When he turned around he was holding a single blue rose, my favourite. I don’t know how he knew, but I would hazard a guess that a mutual friend mentioned it. When I looked into his face my breath stopped. His pictures did not do him justice. Those brown eyes captured me and there was an intensity in his gaze, especially as it traveled down my body. I thought better of him when he started at the top and worked his eyes down. But he didn’t rush his look and I felt almost naked. I liked the warmth that spread through my body as a slow smile spread over his face as he enjoyed the view.

“Wow, you look amazing!” he said as he came forward, offering me the rose.

“Thank you. How did you know they’re my favourite?” I asked.

“I didn’t,” he replied, “Blue roses mean hope and a fresh start. It seemed appropriate.”

Smelling the tight bud I smiled, “They also mean mystery and attaining the impossible.” Considering my feelings on dating it was very appropriate.

He chuckled at that, and pulled me in for a hug. Oh wow, he smelled good too. I wrapped my arms around him, nose pressed into the crook of his neck and basked in his presence. Normally I disliked hugs, and had fully prepared to shake his hand upon the first meeting, but thankfully he had other plans.

We stood like that until the hostess cleared her throat, bringing us both back into the moment and reminding us we were not alone.

He kept his hand on my lower back as we walked to the table, fingers grazing the cleft in my ass. I was so distracted I didn’t realize the hostess stopped until his hand moved to my hip and gave a light squeeze to alert me.  Being the gentleman he pulled out my chiar and I slipped in. He left it out for me to scoot myself in. Thank goodness! It was always awkward when someone pushed it in, sometimes painful if they were exuberant.

Once settled we began with the usual pleasantries of ‘how are ya,’ ‘have you been here before?’ ‘how do you know Melanie?’ while we waited on the server. When he arrived we ordered drinks and an appetizer. Our conversation slowly shifted from surface chatter of weather and work to discussions over literature and cinema. He was easy to talk to, and the flow never stumbled.

There was definite chemistry, eye contact creating sparks that led to small touches across the table when something interesting was said. He was charming, funny, intelligent and I wanted nothing more than to see his button down shirt and slacks on my bedroom floor. I was smitten.

When the dessert, creme brulee, was cleared I sat back to stretch out, stuffed and sated. My foot grazed his leg as I extended it to give my belly a bit more room. He raised an eyebrow with a sly smile. I almost pulled back and apologized but there was something in his eyes that stopped me. Instead I upped the ante, slipping my shoe off and sliding my foot up his inseam. He gave a small hiss when he realized what I was doing and where my toes were headed. Just before my foot hit the apex between his thighs a strong hand wrapped around my ankle, stilling my movement. Our eyes locked as his hand moved from my ankle to the arch of my foot and applied pressure in all the right places. I couldn’t stop the moan that escaped my lips.

After a few minutes I was purring like a kitten as he worked the knots out of my foot. He bent down to retrieve my shoe and in full Cinderella fashion slipped it back on my foot. Perfect fit.

“I have two feet, you know?” I asked coyly.

“I’ll save the second one for our next date,” was his quippy response.

The idea of a next date sent a thrill through me. I hadn’t been sure about the first, but I was absolutely on board for a second one.

Laughing I sat up and we resumed our conversation, but I kept my leg pressed against his. Every shift causing friction and the heat to build between us.

By the time we paid our bills my panties were wet and I could feel my clit swelling. Nothing like an intriguing stranger, a titillating parley, and good food to get me going. I knew exactly what I would be doing, and who I would be imagining, when I got home. As we left his arm enveloped my shoulders and pulled me into him, my own arm wrapping around his waist. He walked me to my car, pulling me in for another hug when we got to the driver door.

This would not do. I needed more than a hug. Pulling back I pressed my lips to his. I intended a simple kiss, a tasting to tide me over to the second date. I did not expect the rise of desire to sweep us both into an inferno of lust.

As soon as my lips met his, a shift happened in both of us from proper humans to primal beings. His hands cupped my face, pulling me closer as his tongue invaded my mouth. He pressed me back against the car, trapping me between his legs, the growing bulge in his pants pressed into my belly. My moan this time was louder and with more need. Damn I wanted him.

After an eternity of time he pulled back, rested his forehead to mine, eyes closed.  “Wow,”  he whispered, “I was not expecting that.”

Nodding my head, unable to catch my breath or form words I knew exactly what he meant. A quick kiss and he pulled himself off me. I suddenly felt cold.

Unlocking the door I slid in and turned back to say goodbye, finding him leaning into the car for another kiss. Who was I to deny him? This time his hand found the slit in my skirt and his fingers trailed up to the top of my thigh. Heat ran through me at the idea of those fingers finding their way under my skirt. I was about to shift my thighs apart when he pulled back.

Kissing my cheek he whispered, “I like to tease.” Then stood tall, “Have a goodnight, Crystal. It was an absolute pleasure to meet you.”

I could have wept in frustration. I turned the key in the ignition and nothing happened. Click. Click. Nada. Motherfucker. 

Taking a deep breath and trying really hard not to laugh at the situation, I looked up at him, “Car won’t start. Can I get a ride home?”

I knew exactly what the problem was, even had the tools in the back to solve it, but I wanted a ride home. I didn’t plan this to happen, but I sure as fuck was going to take advantage. 

He looked like he knew what the problem was too, but was going to keep the solution to himself, “I’d be absolutely delighted to escort you home.”

Like a gentleman he helped me into his truck. Once we were headed out of the parking lot he offered me his hand to hold, which I gladly took. This time we sat in silence, the only words spoken my directions. My thumb tracing circles over his knuckle, taking delight in the small intimacy. Raising my hand to his lips he pressed a soft kiss to my fingertips, sending shivers down my spine, straight to my clit. If the console wasn’t between us…

I didn’t live far from the restaurant, which was one of the reasons why I picked it. He pulled into the driveway and parked, pulling the keys from the ignition he got out coming around to open the door for me. Hands clasped as we walked up to the front door. I unlocked it and led us both in. No invitation needed. 

I barely had the door closed and locked behind us before he kissed me again, the door knob pressing into the small of my back. My fingers flew over his buttons, tugging the shirt out of his pants. I needed to touch him. Fingers finding flesh I let them wander down his chest, tracing the line of his pants, still secure around his waist. 

He tried doing the same but struggled with the delicate buttons of my blouse. “You need to do it, or I’m going to rip that fucking shirt off you,” he growled, eyes closed, hands propped on the door trapping me.  

Pushing him away, I give us space. I stare at him, the door still to my back, shoes on, purse dropped on the floor, breath heavy and body on fire. There was no denying that I wanted him, and based on the thick outline in his pants he wanted me too. 

Stalking forward I take his hand and lead him to the living room, “Sit” I command, pointing to the couch, “Alexa, play sexy time music.”

As the music begins, Tennessee Whiskey by Chris Stapleton, I stand in front of him and slowly undo the buttons, his eyes mesmerized by the movement. Pulling it out of the skirt I let it fall behind me, a sheer black bra left covering my breasts. Reaching back I unclasp the waist of my skirt. I turn so he can watch as I slowly lower the zipper, exposing the matching sheer thong, pushing the skirt to the floor. I hook my fingers on the thong, hinging forward to pull them down, exposing my tight asshole and wet pussy. 

“Oh fuck” was all I heard. I glance over my shoulder, he’s hypnotized by my ass, his hand stroking his cock through his pants. Stepping out of the panties I kick them away and turn to face him again, only my heels and bra left on. Shifting forward on the couch he brings his face to my slit, inhaling the scent before his tongue teases the lips apart. His hands caress up the back of my legs to cup my ass, pulling me forward, his face buried and mouth devouring. As his tongue hits the right nerve on my clit my legs start shaking. I dig my hands into his hair as the orgasm rips through me, and soaks his face. 

Pulling me forward I straddle his lap, mouth seeking his. I can taste myself on him, my tongue tracing the lines of his lips, savoring the taste. He undoes my bra, tossing it into the pile of clothes behind us. He cups them, teeth finding first the right, then left nipple. Arching my back I push down, feeling his cock still encased in his pants. I unbutton his pants, freeing his cock. I can’t see it as he continues to enjoy the softness of my breasts, but by the feel he was thick and long, and was going to feel so damn good inside me. 

I stroke it, finger collecting the precum and bringing it to my lips. Sucking it off my finger I didn’t realize he was watching me, fingers pinching my nipples as I enjoyed the taste of him. 

“That’s hot,” he moaned. “Suck my cock,” he demanded. 

Thought he would never ask. I got him to stand as I pulled off his shirt and pants. This was going to get sloppy and I didn’t want to ruin his clothes. 

Now that he was naked too (I still had my shoes on) I knelt between his legs, hands sliding up his thighs pushing them further apart as I leaned forward, my tongue running from the base to the tip of his cock. Letting a stream of spit drip from my lips I coat his cock before wrapping my lips around him. One hand grasped the base of his cock. He was too big to fit completely in my mouth or down my throat but I could do a combo handjob/blowjob. As I worked his cock, drool dripping down my chin to my chest, his hands continued to fondle my tits, pinching the nipples. Coming up for air I place his cock between my breasts pushing them around him as I move them up and down, my tongue working the tip. 

Groaning and close to coming he tells me to stop, which I do. Dick still ensconced between my creamy mounds, I watch his face as he struggles for control, his eyes locked to mine. 

“Damn, woman,” he says between deep breaths, “You certainly know how to rile a guy up.’

I move up to straddle him but he stops me, “Turn around,” he commands. 

I turn as he grabs my hips and gently pulls me down onto his lap. I spread my legs, realize that won’t work, kick my shoes off and tuck my legs back on either side of him, hands on his knees as he guides his cock inside. I’m kneeling backwards and edging my hips back, that thick piece of him stretching my tight pussy wide. Hitting deep I take a moment to adjust to his girth, his hands grabbing and smacking my ass. 

I feel him spit on my asshole, his thumb pushing the wetness against the tight resistance. I start to ride him, wet pussy snug around his prick, hitting my cervix with every thrust. His thumb breaches my ass, moving in and out in tandem, while his other hand grabs my chest. The sensory overload is too much and I come hard, over and over as I move faster. 

“Good girl,” I hear him say.

Releasing my breast he reaches and strokes my clit, bringing me over the edge again. Unable to keep myself up as the climaxes don’t stop I lean back against his chest, cock still buried in my pussy I press my weight on to him. Both hands now free he uses one to spread my pussy lips and the other to put me into a frenzy with his finger working my clit like a guitar string. Guttural sounds are all I can manage as I move up and down.

Teeth sinking into my shoulder he pulls his cock out, jacking off, his hot cum hitting my belly and breasts. 

Bereft of him my fingers replace his cock as I come with him, squirting, soaking him and the couch. 

Both of us spent his arms circling my waist, forehead resting between my shoulder blades. We sat in silence as we both caught our breath. 

“Your battery died,” he finally said. 

“Yup,” I responded. 

“I have jumper cables.”

Chuckling, I answer, “So do I, and a battery booster.”