Pure and Simple Ch. 01

(Author's Note: This is the edited version! Build up to smut will be slow, you may have to wait till chapter 3 before it gets to the good stuff. So, if you want a quick fix this story is definitely not for you!)

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Simple and Pure

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Chapter One: Blind Date

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"This isn't a good idea." I tried my best to reason with my belligerent friend, trying to argument why her ideas never seemed to work.

"Wha'? Of course it is! You need to give him a try. Come on! It took me forever to book this date and you look fabulous! You can't argue with me that you don't look absolutely sexy!"

My eyes moved back over to the mirror I was currently sitting in front of, trying not to wince every once in a while when my friend Bethany, and supposed matchmaker, pulled a little too hard with the curling iron. I did look good. Sexy good. Incredibly edible 'let-me-help-you-take-that-dress-off' kind of sexy. But it just wasn't me. I mean, yeah, I worked hard on my body, exercising every day since High School to get my ass toned along with every other muscle in my body, but I wasn't one to show it off. Ever.

The dress was cocktail skinny, hugging my curves in a delicious way and was incredibly―virgin―white, contrasting well with my lightly tan skin. It hugged my body like a second skin, the wavy lace design was beautiful and breathtaking, and the flower see-through lace hugging my neck was indeed an eye catcher. It showed off my curves like no other dress I've worn before, and even my other sun dresses did a generous enough job of doing that, but this dress definitely would beat them in one curvy swoop. However, the one detail I did find a little disturbing was the fact it looked like someone shoved a basketball up underneath my lower backside. It wasn't a pretty picture, but my friend, who was currently pulling my hair out permanently, said it was every man's dream to have an ass like mine. I didn't agree, of course. Didn't guys like boobs more anyhow?

"I guess...but do you honestly believe this is something I would pick out for myself? He's going to get the wrong idea...I'm not this"―I gestured toward me and the dress, my green eyes clashing with her blue―"type of girl."

"Please, pray tell, what type of girl wears this kind of dress?" she asked honestly, not looking at me in the mirror as she continued to curl my hair from the messy bun she so delicately put it in.

"Someone who likes to have fun!"

"And you don't?"

"Not the partying and one night stands kind of fun!" It was true. This dress screamed that I was a one night stand kind of girl.

"This dress doesn't say that. Any girl―whatever their personalities are like―and with a body like yours, might I add, can wear this dress. Just because you're a nerd doesn't mean you don't have the privilege, like every other girl, to dress up sexy once in a great, long while." She rolled her eyes at me in the mirror, a light smile curving her generous, plump lips.

"Yes it does."

"No it doesn't."

"Yes-huh!"

"Nuh-uh!"

"You're such a butt-crack!"

"I love you, too~"

Ever since my fiasco of a relationship my senior year in High School went down, my friend, Bethany, started to set me up on dates with completely random strangers. She'd claimed to have had known them in some way, but I was pretty sure she'd put up some random post on craigslist and was setting me up with every available guy that replied to it. She still denies it till this day, but I'm pretty sure I was spot on with my 'not-so-random' guess.

I did meet one guy, however, so it wasn't all in vein on her part. It was a good learning experience―I found out what true love was, then also found out what true heart-broken felt like all in one go. Again, it was a good learning experience, especially on guys I should definitely, always, stay away from.

Rich men.

Yep. My last boyfriend was a somewhat famous surgeon. Everyone flocked to him with their different needs, wanting his so called magical hands to fix their ever growing problems. Turns out, he also slept with some of his patients, too, for extra incentives.

Ugh. You know what? No more thinking about it. End of discussion. It's all in the pass.

"All done!" Bethany sang out right next to my ear making me wince, once more, in pain, and deeply hoping that will be the last of it for the night. "So? What do you think?" Before I could respond, she was already talking again in her smug little tone I came to get use to overtime. "I know, I know, I'm a genius, no need to say it. Jeesh."

My hair did look good. I had exceptionally long hair that almost reached to the crack of my butt and because of its longlines, it was hard to style without it drooping from the weight throughout the day (especially when curled). But Bethany always had a way of manipulating it, making it last throughout the day and night. Looking in the mirror now, I scanned my eyes over the dull brown hair that was strung up in a messy bun with strands of hair falling from it, effectively curled and bouncy and somehow not dangling in front of my face. A few strands of curled hair was hanging around my face, framing it but was in no way uncomfortable or in the way of my eyes. She always knew what would look good on me.

"Yes, Bethany," I agreed with a beaming smile, mostly to help boast her already overly-inflated ego. "You are a genius."

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Standing in front of Le Chantecler, one of the most famous―and expensive―restaurant found in the state, Jak couldn't help but run his hand through his slicked back, dark brown hair in a gesture of complete exasperation. He didn't find the restaurant itself irritating. Far from it actually. He found the food and atmosphere to be quiet enjoyable, giving him a feeling of relaxation and forgetful bliss for the times he'd spent in it. But today he knew entering that restaurant wouldn't give him the relaxation he craved desperately for, because what lied in the restaurant, and most likely sitting down and enjoying her time with the other dates that were accompanying them for this dreadful night, was his blind date.

He didn't like blind dates. Not one bit. Especially when his friend, Blake, was the one who arranged such an event. Remembering his last blind date brought a great deal of trepidation, forcing his legs to stand still, unmoving toward the twin French doors that lead to his nightly fate. The last woman he was forced to see was gorgeous, he couldn't deny, with long legs, deep tan skin, and luxuries blonde hair that shined golden under the soft lamping of another, less expensive restaurant he attended for the night.

Her beauty didn't outshine the shallow nature of her personality, however, much to her displeasure considering the impetuous emails he gets from her about once a week. Having to be forced to listen to one woman talk about every little aspect of her life and not once acquiring about his, or anything about him beside what job he held and his...recent expenses, was torturous. He didn't mind when his date would talk about past events, but to explain for hours on end on all the supposed achievements, dates, and family losses to no end in sight, was a little much for him to deal with in one night. That information should be given over time, and to people you trust enough to keep such knowledge secret.

He had to go in, however, he was already reaching the limit of 'fashionably late', already a half an hour late from the original date time. Taking one last final breath, he marched forward and opened the twin doors with more confidence than what he'd actually felt.

~*~

Ignoring the ogling stares from the waitress that lead him to their table, he watched closely as he neared his destination. Blake was already seated, sitting next to his yearlong girlfriend, Bethany, and was talking fervently with three other seated friends he didn't know or probably didn't care to recognize. As he neared, all five eyes locked onto him instantly, almost like they could sense him coming. Or perhaps, could sense his slight overwhelming hesitation. One girl in particular eyes grew wide, and none to discreetly, checked him out from head to toe.

After the waitress parted, promising to come back later to take their orders, he sat down slowly, but steadily into his seat next to Blake, watching from the corner of his eye when the girl followed his slow descent.

"Well, look what the cat dragged in!" Blake boasted with a wide smile, his shaggy blonde hair swaying in his face uncaringly. His bright, baby blue eyes sparkling with hidden mischief. "Fashionably late, like usual."

Jak shrugged his shoulders, his eyes glancing down at the menu before him. "You know me, I like to take my time primping. It takes a lot of practice and care to look as good as me." Jak played along, smiling along with his friend and feeling some of his earlier anxiety dissipating into the boisterous atmosphere his friend had a knack of creating.

"I didn't know shaving your legs and vagina is actually considered practice and care, Jak, especially from a man with your stature. Next time you should save the extremes, baby, you know I hate waiting."

Jak laughed along with his friends, his table mates joining in. "But I did it all for you honey, I know you hate it when I have a forest of hair, since your aim runs a little short, you need all the clearance that I can give in order to make it in on the first go."

Another chorus of laughing followed Jak's comment. It wasn't until the laughing died down that Bethany finally decided to speak up, effectively putting Jak back in his earlier soar mood. "Alora will be out shortly, she and Jessica headed to the bathroom to powder up." The way she said bathroom made it seem like it had some kind of double meaning to it. Something he was sure to ask Blake about when this date finally ended.

"Is that so," Jak mumbled, drinking the water that was always offered in a little glass cup. A woman who thought she had to fix her makeup not even an hour into the date wasn't a good sign, in Jak's opinion.

"More like trying to convince her not to bail at the last second," Blake added a little too cheerfully. "She was basically hyperventilating before you even arrived."

"Was she now?" Great. His date had anxiety issues.

"No she wasn't!" Bethany defended, her dark blue eyes clashing with her boyfriend's baby blues. "She's just a little anxious, that's all." Like that made it any better.

"Whatever you say, honey. You're always right after all," he mocked jokingly.

"Damn right I am." Bethany directed her blazing eyes toward Jak, smiling her usual too sweet of a smile. Sometimes, the girl only raised more questions than answers when Jak spoke one on one with her. She was always so...enthusiastic, no matter what the situation called for. "Alora just isn't use to this kind of atmosphere, that's all. She just got out of a bad relationship after all." She popped the p in relationship when she spoke, making Jak believe there was something more to this Alora's past lover. Or, that was just how Bethany spoke. He could never figure out the girl, no matter how hard he tried for Blake's benefit alone.

Of course, Jak did completely understand the anxiety she was probably harboring at the moment if she did, indeed, get out of a recently bad relationship. Jak was going through a nasty divorce at the moment himself. One that was lasting a whole year. Of course, his understanding was limited in wonderment of whose fault the relationship had supposedly gone south. For all he knew, this Alora girl could be at fault.

Jak had very little expectation when it came to Blake's choice of a date.

"Hm," Jak hummed, not commenting on Alora's past affairs. "Since we're on the topic of this Alora, should I be expecting anything before I meet her? Any―quirks I should know before hand?" He did have to liking the sound of her name rolling off his tongue.

"She's extremely shy," the woman across the round table spoke up for the first time, bringing the other two men at the table out of their conversation. When he gave her his attention, he couldn't help but notice the smoldering look she was directing toward him with her dark brown eyes, and the small pink appendage dragging across her bottom lip, wetting them. She flipped her straight, dark brown hair behind her shoulder, revealing a slender, tan shoulder. "She doesn't talk much and hates to be in large crowds. You could say she has some...social anxiety issues. She always had them ever since grade school," she said matter-of-factly, her eyes gleaming in triumph. For an odd second, the thought of his treacherous ex-wife flashed through his mind.

"She isn't shy!" Bethany defended her friend again, but this time raising her voice with defensive aggravation. "She just doesn't like talking to people right off the bat. She has to assess them first, get to know them, before she becomes friendly. She's just more private, unlike you who likes to leave everything out in the open to the public."

Jak smiled at her little pun. She had her moments, probably why Blake stayed with her for so long. Despite both of his and Jak's age, Blake had been a player for quite some time up until he met Bethany. Dare he say he was actually settling down with her? In a way, Jak hoped he was.

The woman glared at Bethany, rolling her eyes and making a un-lady like huff. Before she could retaliate with her own excuses, her date, or the man sitting next to her, decided it was his turn to speak up. "Speak of the devil! There's Alora now!" Some of the tension dissipated, leaving everyone to turn in the direction the guy was looking toward.

Jak turned around in his seat, looking directly toward the back end of the restaurant. A woman was making her way toward their table. A rather large, heavy set woman with brown hair and grey eyes and was wearing a pink, strapless dress that was a little too tight around her midsection, making Jak eternally cringe. He didn't mind heavy set woman, but when they wore clothes that showed a little too much of their curves, he would mentally curse their own mentality. He looked at Blake for a second, wondering if he was being serious, but he was actively ignoring him, of course, looking ahead of him with clear anticipation. It wasn't until he heard a rather loud, lecherous whistle that he turned his head back to the woman hastily making her way back to the table, jiggle and all. But after she turned to walk around a table closest to theirs, did he finally notice another figure behind the heavier set woman.

Another woman wearing a tight white dress, her back turned toward them showing off a naked sun-kissed back and thighs that were, what most men would call, mouthwatering, was standing in front of a table with her hands clasped behind her back tightly, (And on top of those thighs held a bountiful round ass that he couldn't tear his eyes away from).

There were four men, or boys, seated at the table she was turned to, actively talking to her with smiles that screamed hidden intent. She was inching slowly toward their table, trying to dispel the conversation she was finding to be awkward, considering how her hands were fiddling with one another behind her back, a quirk she probably didn't know she was doing. As she moved one small step at a time, each cheek of her ass swelled, moving up and down in a mesmerizing manner that probably had all men at the table in a trance, and all the women envious.

Forcing his eyes up when he felt a sudden stir in his groin, something he wanted to avoid, he was met with her sun-kissed creamy back, and hair that swayed with every small step; light brown hair that seemed to glisten red in the lighting of the restaurant, giving her hair a quality Jak hadn't quite seen before, or just never noticed on other women until now.

Waving her hand in a way of saying goodbye to the boys most likely asking for her number, she finally turned around, and Jak was meet with emerald green eyes that shined it the light in a way that reminded of a forest glistening from the sunshine after a long, rainy day.

He couldn't look away, but that didn't matter to him because, for one, he didn't want to look away.