The Best Date, Bar None: Redux

This is the complete version of Best Date with some minor amends and corrections. The whole tale is of course fantasy but is grounded in an actual encounter that led to an amazing night and morning together with someone that I just met. The male character is obviously an imaginary, more perfect version of me but the female character is a pretty accurate physical description but the circumstances and backgrounds of both have been romanticised.

...

Diana was tired. Not physically tired, her regular yoga sessions made sure that her body was toned and able to withstand the rigours of being a personal assistant in the city of Manchester. No she was tired of being alone and tired of being let down. She was giving up the rat race at the end of the month to pursue her dreams of making a living in make-up and beauty and having stayed in town to meet up with girl friends, they had either cancelled or left early, leaving her on her own in a hotel bar, nursing an increasingly flat and warm glass of kir royale.

All the effort of getting glammed up for the night wasted. She was in what was at the upper end of her Friday night post work wardrobe. Myla lingerie that made her feel good, even if no one else was going to see it, complete with ultra sheer stockings and suspenders. Small, but perfectly formed silver and diamond earrings, which matched her necklace and bracelet. A cream satin blouse, that hugged her bust and with the right number of drinks inside, could unbutton far enough to be interesting and a dark grey, pleated wrap around jersey skirt that gripped her hips like a second skin and stopped mid calf. The slit of which, again for the right number of drinks, had a habit of exposing expanses of those calves and on occasion, her thighs above them.

She started to gather her thoughts and look for cash to settle her account and pay for a taxi when she was aware of the fresh musk smell of freshly showered man. Mmmmm, nice. That was one good thing about hotel bars, some of the guys that frequented them were staying upstairs and could take the time to be man-fresh before you encountered them.

"Hi", a voice insinuated itself through her thoughts. The accent wasn't local, reminding her of her times in London. She turned towards it and looked into deep hazel eyes

"Err, hi." then she turned back.

"My name's Steve and I haven't met my quota for rescuing damsels in distress this week. Can you help me out and let me freshen your glass?"

That was original. As chat up lines went, she'd not heard that one and it made her smile. "Sure, that would be very kind of you. My name's Diana. Nice to meet you Steve. And thank you for making me smile. And for the drink but a regular glass of something fizzy would be lovely."

And suddenly, he had a bartender's attention and was effortlessly picking a bottle of salmon Brut champagne, taking the bottle from the counter and easing out the cork.

"Me and this bottle are going over to that booth over there. You're going to have to join us if you're serious about being my rescued damsel." and he picked up two glasses and the ice bucket to stride across the bar out of the main lights.

Something about his confidence, which stopped short of arrogance, made her powerless to refuse. He stood at the booth until she stepped past him and slid along the leather to sit down. Then he poured two glasses, the correct way, obviously not his first time, and slid along beside her.

"To rescuing damsels" and they clinked glasses.

The next few hours flew past as they got to know one another, slipping past being strangers to bar flies, to friends with shared experience, to ...? She wasn't quite sure. She didn't feel tired any more certainly and she definitely enjoyed his company. It was good to be the centre of attention after so long.

"Mumble, mumble, outrageous, mumble, mumble, sex?" Diana was suddenly aware that Steve was looking at her expecting an answer.

"I'm sorry. What did you say?"

Steve smiled, although the smile came more from his eyes than his mouth. "I said, what's the most outrageous thing that you've done with your boyfriend, past or present and did it involve sex?"

Diana knew that the champagne had given her classic pale English skin a touch of pink but his question deepened the blush deliciously. Steve's warm eyes signalled that he appreciated her reaction to the question. Diana was now buzzing and feeling flirtatious.

"First of all, there is no present boyfriend. Second there was an outrageous time with a past boyfriend, and girlfriend but finally, I am not telling you what it was!" and then she waited for him to try and prise it out of her. His next words surprised her.

"There is no current boyfriend. Interesting." Diana kicked herself for letting that out so she went on the offensive.

"Busted. But same question to you?"

Steve's smile crackled from his eyes again as he sat back into the booth. "First of all, it was a past girlfriend. No longer present and not a boyfriend. And there is no other present girlfriend. Secondly, it was on a night like this, in a bar like this. In fact, now I think of it, it was this bar and it was this booth. Third, I don't think you can handle the truth." Something about the way he said it made her think of Jack Nicholson in A Few Good Men. Another flash of pink blushed through her contrasting with the starched white of her blouse neckline. She decided to kick the flirting up a notch and slid in beside him, planting her palm on the leather between his thighs.

"Oh. Really. I assure you that I can handle. It. I can handle anything you've got." Diana's arm relaxed back into the crook of his lap. However, she didn't expect his reaction, which was to slide further forward so that her hand cupped the swell of his crotch.

Realising that this was now a game of chicken, Diana was determined that it would not be her nerve that broke first. Her lips moved to his ear and her palm curled fractionally tighter.

"Anything!" she whispered. Again, his reaction surprised her. He scooted back in the seat, away from her hand which was now clutching at thin air and let out an enormously filthy laugh, knowing that he had conceded the game and awarded her the victory.

"I like you Diana. You're good fun." he said between laughs. "Your misfortune has been my good fortune." because she was still leaned in towards him, he took advantage of her position and planted a brief peck of a kiss on her lips.

That simple action, milliseconds in length, left her frozen and her thoughts locked. In that micro moment, her senses were overwhelmed. His scent was clean and fresh. His laugh still echoed. He was clean shaven and recently groomed judging by his cheek and sideburns. His lips tasted of maleness mixed with champagne. But the touch left the most lasting of impressions. Her lips fizzed with the memory which rippled out like a stone dropped in a pond, sending waves of desire across her body until the ripples peaked at her toes, nipples, ears, fingers and labia.

Wait a minute, her what? Her pussy now had an itch and ...

"Mumble, mumble, champagne, mumble, mumble, menu, mumble, mumble, eat?"

Diana snapped back to reality and tried to focus her thoughts and eyes to her companion. "I'm sorry, again. What did you say?"

All attention on him and almost losing herself in his eyes, she focussed hers on his lips and they formed the words of repeat.

"No worries. I said, this bottle of champagne is empty. Are you familiar enough with the menu to say whether you would extend me the pleasure of your company for something to eat? By which I mean, I want to ride my good fortune and save me from another hotel meal away from home on my own. This place seems to have a decent spread that doesn't need pockets to be too deep."

For some reason, her ripple fogged mind latched on to the words, empty, pleasure, eat, ride spread and deep. All of which sent aftershocks to those ripples and formed an image in her mind of her spread on a bed there for his pleasure, to eat, to be taken deep, or to ride him and fill the empty void she was only now aware was there. "That all sounds wonderfully decadent." was her reply but she wasn't sure if she was answering his question for supper or her desire for something more intimate.

Steve almost leapt off the seat in response and excitement edged his voice, "Excellent! You're a life saver." and with the experience and confidence of a man with a few years on the clock, he had a waiter at his command, ordering another bottle, along with some nibbles and asking for menus.

As a result, it caused Diana to think about her companion and his age. He was obviously worldly wise but she had no ideas as to how many years her senior he was. Diana was on the brink of starting her 30s and Steve was obviously the other side of 40 judging by the ages of his daughters. He must be older than her own father but she had no idea by how many years.

They placed their orders. Diana had a pea soup. Steve had a mackerel pate. They both ordered the sea bream with beetroot risotto. And then resumed getting to know each other. They had some things in common. He had family in South London and had lived in Guernsey. She had enjoyed spending time in both. They both had eclectic tastes in music and enjoyed musicals and live music.

Again, she momentarily lost the thread of the conversation as she looked into his deep hazel eyes and the cadence of his speech. Thankfully not too wide boy, nor too Essex but a grateful change from the Manc townies that she worked with, or worse still the whining Scousers.

Diana was sure that Steve had said something about trust, she wasn't sure what but she misheard it as thrust and like a flashbulb the image of his back as he thrust into her was burned in her mind and with persistence of vision, it stayed there before fading. It was time to kick this up another notch.

"So, Steve. About your previous time in this booth you had before. How does tonight compare so far?" Diana knew that Steve had implied that this had been something outrageous and hopefully sexual.

"Ahh, yes. Tonight is shaping up very well in comparison, thank you. I was just thinking the same. I think I might even give you a blow by blow account so that you can draw your own conclusions. I think that you can handle. It."

Diana was sure that she had heard pause before Steve said 'it' and the words handle and blow flashed more images in her mind of his head between her thighs and then her head in his thighs as they pleasured each other to climax.

"I'm sure there's more to come tonight but I'd love to hear about the previous time that you came." Diana tried to give some emphasis on come and came and gazed at his eyes to watch for reactions. As a result, she was sure that she saw his pupils dilate wide within those deep hazel eyes with each word. Good. Perhaps she was getting to him too.

"I was here with a female colleague, Sarah, with whom we had become lovers in the office. Sometimes actually in the office, but that's not this story. We were in Manchester on business, with a meeting the next day so we decided to grab a meal, for the sake of appearances and expenses claims. Also, for appearances sake, we had booked two rooms so we got changed and freshened up separately before meeting in the bar."

At this point, Steve paused to sip his champagne, gratified that he seemed to have Diana's rapt attention. Her languid blue eyes completely focused on his.

"Sarah was wearing the perfect little black dress. It hugged her curves perfectly, stopped mid thigh and had a deliciously devilish brass zip down the back running down from her neck, all the way past the sculpt of her behind to the junction of her thighs and buttocks. Quite something. "

Now what Steve didn't know was that Diana was more than a little bi curious. In fact she had loved many girlfriends in recent years and so she was bringing to mind one of her favourites, clad in a LBD that Steve had just described. As a result, her pulse had quickened, as she hung on his every word, and she could feel her blood throbbing between her thighs and within the confines of her bra. Steve was aware of these tell tale signs of Diana's arousal. He continued,

"Sarah and I ordered drinks and as we waited she whispered in my ear 'do you want to play a guessing game?' Now this caught my attention, she continued 'I'm so forgetful sometimes, I don't know if I remembered my underwear tonight. Do you think you could help me find out later, just so that I know and to save later embarrassment. '"

Both of them took a moment to savour the image, Steve of the actual conversation and images. Diana of the fantasy she was creating of Clara in her mind. Both of them realised that the conversation was being kicked up another notch.

"Now that's an interesting way to start a conversation, I'm sure that you'll agree."Steve continued, "It's hard to know how to respond but suffice to say, I was interested. Her reply was to suggest that we find a booth and carry on the investigations."

"So, now we're sat here at this very booth and my erstwhile lover is sat opposite me. She raises her glass and asks me my thoughts, which were hard to articulate at this point." Once more, each time Steve said the word 'hard', Diana had images flash through her mind of being on her back, getting pounded. This caused her breath to catch and her nostrils to flare slightly. Neither of these autonomic responses were lost on Steve as he continued.

"After that Sarah managed to make everything she said and did incredibly erotic, drinking, laughing, eating olives, fiddling with straws and napkins, playing with her hair, biting her lip or rubbing her fingers along the edge of her neckline. Everything gave me the right horn, which was starting to get uncomfortable. So I asked Sarah to stretch her leg and give me her foot, unsheathed from her heels. Excuse me, I'm getting parched."

With that, Steve took a gulp of his champagne, leaving Diana waiting expectantly for the continuation of his reminiscences.

"Once I had her foot, I placed the sole of it into my lap. Sarah immediately understood what was on my mind and she tensed and relaxed that foot so as to caress the stiffened muscle in my trousers. Would you like to give me your foot Diana?"

The mention of her name brought Diana crashing back to reality and without giving it a thought, she kicked off her shoe and raised her leg beneath the table, offering it suppliantly to Steve's firm grasp. As he squeezed it and pressed it to his groin, sparks of yearning danced along her nerve endings, firing miniature explosions as they went.

"That's better. Where was I? That's right I had Sarah's foot in my groin, giving me a cock rub. A bit like this." And with that, he pressed Diana's foot into the crook of his crotch and her nylon encased foot was pressed against the same taut muscle of which he had just spoke. Diana copied the motions from Steve's words and stroked her foot up and down, just as she had heard Sarah had done. She was gratified that her actions had a pleasing effect on him. Diana knew that she was becoming more aroused with Steve's tale. The mere mention of the word cock from his lips brought to mind arousing images again, this time of her lips around his cock. Her fingers caressing the skin at the base of his testes as she tried to coax him deeper and deeper into her mouth, pressing his swollen head to the yielding entrance to her throat.

No longer thinking, just doing, Diana stroked the real penis that was held to her foot as the unbidden images of felatting the fantasy penis filled her mind.

"And as I was stroked, I stroked her foot and I was reminded of the game that Sarah had suggested. The guessing game. The game of is she or isn't she. The game of hunt the ... Which word do you prefer Diana? Panties, knickers, undies, undercrackers. How would you describe those garments that caress you most intimately?"

Because Steve was looking at her, Diana realised that she was being asked a question but she had no idea what it was. The combination of stimulations that she was being subjected to, physical, mental, sexual, sensual and aural was making it hard to concentrate on the specifics of the conversation. Hard, she had to stop using that word; it was doing all sorts of things to her. It was making it difficult to concentrate. Yes, concentrate. That word was ok. That word didn't strum her strings and play her. That word as safe. Now to tune back in to the conversation. Something about the game and underwear.

"Undies. I call them undies. When it's just me but when a man wants to know more about them, it depends on the man and what I'm wearing. In this situation, with this man. The answer is ... thong."

Steve raised an eyebrow in approval and continued, "Let's see if you and Sarah have that in common. It would seem that at the same time that I was thinking of her game, she was too. I'd never played this game before so she took the lead. I still had her foot in my hand and she slid further back into her seat, pushing her bum forward so that she was almost reclining in the booth, just resting her head on the back of it and moving her knees further apart."

Diana was completely rapt in attention to Steve's words now as the image of Clara, her girlfriend, wearing the black dress that Steve had described was languidly displaying herself in Diana's mind's eye. Stretching the material of that dress as her legs parted and it rode up higher.

"Now as you can imagine, this had me really excited and as I watched Sarah, her skirt slid up her thighs and more and more was revealed of her olive tanned flesh. I really wanted her and I really wanted to see her pussy. I had seen it many times before obviously, either when I was going down on her or making love with her or just when she was naked in my presence." Diana let out an involuntary moan and her body micro spasmed as Steve's words led the images in her head.

And then, without any warning, Steve pushed Diana's foot away and sat up. Diana was frustrated as hell at the interruption but a discrete cough at her shoulder indicated why because their server had brought their starters. Diana gathered her thoughts and focused on her bowl of soup, the roll was warm enough to melt the butter and the soup thick enough to coat her throat, just like ... Stop it Diana. Not everything tonight has to be sexual.

Steve continued, "Sorry about stopping like that. How's your soup? My pate is good, would you like to taste me?" Diana realised that Steve had probably said something less double entendre but in her sex charged state, she heard him offer himself to her. Without thinking she answered, holding out her spoon to him, "Do I ever. Do you want to lick mine as well?" Her eyebrow raised in wanton proposition. They swapped tastes of the other's courses and Steve resumed his reminiscence.

"It's funny actually, because it wasn't much longer after that same point that Sarah stopped her guessing game. But not before she had revealed enough for me to see that she was indeed wearing undies, or as you said, a thong. Flesh pink, with black lace trim. She always did have good taste. And then she sat up. Just as now, our food then arrived and we ate, all the while stoking the fires of desire with innuendo and flirting. When the server came and took away our empty plates, I honestly can't remember what we ate; Sarah excused herself to go to the washroom."

Diana had finished her soup but she felt far from satisfied. She was getting more and more aroused and therefore frustrated that Steve's words were only in her ear and her mind when she really, really wanted him, inside her.

"When Sarah returned, she slid across my lap to resume her seat at the table, pressing her exquisitely shaped arse into my groin and making me groan. She pressed her hand to mine as she did so. Once she was sat down, I realised that my hand was no longer empty." Diana's thoughts were ahead of the tale, anticipating his next words. "Yep, you guessed it, Sarah's thong was now in my hand which meant that she was now naked under that really tight dress. I tried to look at how tight it was now and then I realised that when she had sat on me, there was only dress between her peachy cheeks and my lap."