An Acquired Taste

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Noah's blind date helps broaden his horizons.
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Noah couldn't explain it, but he knew it the minute she arrived.

It wasn't just that he recognized her. Alison had shown him a picture when she first proposed this whole blind date thing, and she had such a unique look that he certainly wouldn't mistake her for somebody else. But as he sat in the corner of that coffee shop, nervously scrolling on his phone and praying he wasn't sweating through his shirt, he just...sensed it. Before the bell over the door could chime, he looked up and turned, right on time to see Sylvie strut her way in.

She was short, barely breaking 5'2" in her casual heels. But that just made everything else about her so eyecatching. Her deep, black hair was long enough to reach her lower back, and a stray lock hung over her face, slightly obscuring one of her vibrant green eyes. Her right eyebrow was adorned with a silver piercing. She wore rich, purple lipstick that matched the fashionable, gothic dress that was cinched around her waist. In an urban coffee shop she didn't look out of place, but certainly drew the eye.

When he'd first seen her picture, Noah had barely believed it. She was exactly the type of woman he'd always fantasized about -- the kind of striking, alternative beauty that made him gawk but was too intimidating to actually approach. And somehow his friend from work was setting him on a blind date with her? Even seeing her in the flesh couldn't fully convince him this wasn't a dream.

She scanned the shop for a moment before catching sight of him, then gave him that classic "I sort of know you, I guess" wave before heading to the front counter. Noah waved back a second later than he should, then awkwardly lowered his hand when he realized. He ducked his head down in embarrassment and struggled to take some deep breaths and hold off a shame spiral. Sure, he looked like an idiot before they spoke a single word, and she was probably laughing at him inside her head as she ordered her coffee, but...okay, he didn't know where he was going with this, except do-

"No need to look so timid," said a voice in front of him. Noah looked up to see Sylvie standing, drink in hand, staring down at him with an amused grin and a cocked eyebrow. "I promise I don't bite -- at least not on the first date."

"Ah, um, yeah, no of course, I-" he stammered, fumbling for how to react to...any of what she'd just said. "Sorry, I was just, uh-"

"Shhhhh." She whispered, holding a finger up to her still grinning lips. "Just take a few deep breaths first. Close your eyes for a moment, and let yourself calm down a bit. Then try to speak."

Not knowing what else to do, he followed her instructions. Noah closed his eyes, breathing in through his nose, out through his mouth, trying to center himself. Miraculously, he felt himself calming down, his heart rate slowly returning to normal, the blood slowly receding from his blushing cheeks. When he opened his eyes, his date was sitting across the table, patiently sipping as she watched him.

"Feel better?"

"I...yeah, I do. Thanks. I-I'm sorry about that."

"No need to apologize. Your thanks is more than enough." With a smirk he didn't quite know how to read, she extended a hand to shake his. "I'm sure you already know, but I'm Sylvie."

"Noah," he said, taking her hand. He noticed she had long nails painted a deep purple. There seemed to be a pattern etched into the coating of her index finger, but he couldn't quite make it out from this angle...

Sylvie chuckled lightly, and he realized he was still holding her hand. He quickly let go, blushing again.

"So, I guess we should start with getting to know eachother," she said, thankfully not commenting on his latest fumble. "I'm 24. I moved to the city for art school a few years ago, and I recently graduated from an apprenticeship as a tattoo artist. That's actually how I met Alison -- she came to the shop I work at to get some ink."

"Wow. I didn't realize she had tattoos."

"I don't imagine you would. Hers are very...personal, shall we say." Sylvie winked, and he chuckled a little.

"Oh. Yeah, guess she wouldn't show those off at the office. That's where I know her, by the way. We both work data entry downtown. Oh, right, and I'm 27."

"Have any hobbies, Noah? I can't imagine data entry is the thrill of your day."

"You're right there," he laughed. "I don't know that I have a lot of hobbies. Like, I'll go to the gym after work just to stay healthy, but I'm not really into the fitness lifestyle. I like movies and TV, and uh, some anime, I guess. What about you?"

"Outside of art, I love to read. If it weren't for e-books my apartment would be too filled with paperbacks to have room for furniture..."

From there, the conversation carried on with surprising ease. Noah usually felt at a loss for words during...well, most social interactions, but especially dates. But Sylvie had a way of taking the reins to keep him from feeling out of step. She'd suggest a topic, and either start the ball rolling or ask his opinion, before eventually moving on to something else.

He didn't realize just how nice it was until there was a sudden lull. For the first time since she arrived, Sylvie looked away, her gaze downcast. Noah got the feeling there was something she wanted to say, but wasn't sure what to do.

"Is something wrong?"

"Not exactly. It's...just that there's something I should tell you before we get too much further."

That sure sounded ominous. Noah was at least partially comforted that he hadn't said something to upset her, but he felt his palms get just a little bit sweatier as he placed them on the table.

"So, when Alison set this up, did she tell you anything about me?" Sylvie asked, still not looking at him.

"Not really. She just said you're a good friend looking for somebody after being single for a while."

"Well, the thing is, the reason I've been single for a while is because I've been busy with my transition." She turned her eyes to him then, searching for a reaction. He flailed for a moment, not sure what to say or what she was hoping to say or even what he wanted to say, and trying not to look surprised, but also not look like he was trying not to look surprised and-

"Oh, uh, I see. So you're uh-"

"Trans, yeah."

"That's, uh, that's cool. I've got a few friends who came out not too long ago. My buddy Devon has been on hormones for a few months now."

"Oh? How's he doing?" she asked, still looking reserved, but with just the hint of a smile.

"Great, actually. The happiest I've seen him since we met in college, actually. Though he does complain a lot about acne breakouts."

"That's why they call it second puberty." She laughed. "I couldn't tell you how much my voice cracked when I first started E. Though it was still less of a hassle than getting these babies."

Sylvie's brief bashfulness was gone, and she casually reached up to cup her chest -- which, Noah wanted to note, he had very politely been trying not to look at during their entire conversation.

"They uh...they certainly look like they were worth the hassle," he said, immediately wanting to punch himself in the face. Sylvie didn't seem to mind, and just laughed.

"They better be, after all the time I spent saving up for 'em. So...you still interested in continuing our date, then?"

"Yeah, of course. I'm totally cool with it."

"Even if I were to tell you I still have some of my...original equipment?" This time, her question was neither nervous or guarded. She was flirting with him, cocking her eyebrow and giving that infectiously sly grin.

"I...well, I can't say I've ever been with anyone with uh, one of those before," again, totally clueless about how to respond. "Like I'm not opposed or anything but, like, if things were to get physical -- not that I'm assuming, I mean, uh but if we did, I don't know how good of a partner I'd be..."

He fell silent, and this time it was his turn to avoid eye contact. They were silent for an awkward stretch of seconds, before Sylvie leaned over the table and took his right hand in both of hers. He looked up to find her staring at him with the most intense gaze he'd ever encountered. He instantly wanted to look away, but was caught like a deer in headlights.

"Noah, can I be totally up front with you?"

"S-sure. Of course."

"I like to think I can read people pretty well. From the moment I saw you, and through this whole conversation, I've gotten the impression that you're a man who's afraid to say what he wants. Whenever you speak, it seems to me like you're trying to find the right thing to say to avoid making anyone upset, or embarrassing yourself.

"I'm...sorry?"

"No need to apologize," she grinned again, and leaned in closer. He felt her index finger gently tracing circles on the back of his hand, while her other hand kept him in place. "I think being compassionate and considerate are wonderful traits. But it also means you're always putting what you want second. Does that sound right?"

"I...yes, I guess so," he muttered, knowing she was a thousand percent right. But admitting it felt like admitting he was worthless.

"I bet that sometimes, you don't even think about what you want at all. You just default to what you think people want to hear. Even right now, you were more concerned about not hurting me than about whether you were comfortable with dating me. Am I right?" She was even closer now. He could smell delicious scent of her latte on her breath with every word. Distantly, he realized her finger was making spirals up and down his forearm now.

"You're right. So-"

"Shhh. I don't want an apology. I want to know how you really feel. So I'm going to ask you questions. You are going to answer them, with your gut reaction. No thinking about it, no trying to spare feelings or worrying about how I'll react. Do you understand?"

"Yes." His voice sounded oddly monotone when he spoke, but he couldn't really spare a thought for that. He was too caught up in her piercing gaze, in how close they were, in the teasing scratches of her nails on his skin.

"Do you think I'm attractive?"

"Yes. You're exactly my type."

Just like she'd said, he spoke without thinking. A tiny part of him felt embarrassed to admit what he had, but its voice was thin and muffled in the back of his mind.

"Have you enjoyed our date?"

"I've loved it."

"Would you want to see me again?"

"Definitely."

"If I asked you back to my place, what would think I meant by that?"

"That you want to have sex."

"And if I did ask you that, what would you say?"

"Yes."

She was so close, all he could see were her eyes. Yet he still sensed the hungry smile on her face as he answered.

"You know, I'm starting to see why Alison set us up. She's a good judge of character, and I bet she could tell from a mile away that you're a good guy in need of firm direction." Her hand ceased it's spiraling, and moved up to firmly grip his chin. "And it just so happens I am very, very good at providing direction.

"Close your eyes for me."

He obeyed without a thought, as easily and automatically as he'd answered her questions.

Her lips reached his, pressed in, and gently urged his into motion. Even through the strange daze he found himself in, Noah's brain tingled at the taste of her. Gradually, the hand gripping his chin slid to the back of his head, running through his short hair and pulling him deeper into their kiss. He moaned softly, lost in the sensations for who knows how long, oblivious to the rest of the world and any potential onlookers.

Sitting there, lips locked, eyes closed, all that mattered in that moment was Sylvie.

"Mmm, good boy. Eyes open now" she whispered when they eventually parted. He obeyed, and was greeted by a piercing, hungry grin that he could only answer with a dopey smile. She was lovingly stroking his cheek, gently tousling his hair. "How are you feeling right now?"

"Good..." was all he could come up with at first. Then: "Sleepy...warm...horny..."

"That's perfect, just perfect. You like feeling this way, don't you? You'd want to feel this way again, right?"

"Mmm, yeah."

"Then I want you to remember: whenever I look into your eyes and tell you to relax, you'll start to drift back into this warm, sleepy feeling. No matter where we are, or what we're doing, you'll slowly but surely fall back to how you are right now. Can you do that for me?"

"Yeah..."

"Perfect. Now I'm going to slowly wake you up, and when I snap my fingers your memory will start to get hazy. All you'll know for certain is that we kissed, and that you're very, very eager to come home with me so we can continue our date. Doesn't that sound nice?"

"Yessss."

"Good boy. Very good boy."

Then she was whispering right into his ear, softly urging him back to reality. Noah could feel his brain waking up, as if he was coming out of an unexpected nap, not totally sure where he was or what he was hearing. Sylvie gently nibbled his earlobe, before leaning back and snapping her fingers next to his head.

The sharp sound finally brought him out of his daze, and he quickly took stock of his surroundings. Sylvie was sitting in front of him, with a smile that sent a shiver down his spine. A smile that had some seriously smudged lipstick, evidence that he hadn't daydreamed their kiss. That memory made him painfully aware of his erection, and he subtly tried to shift in his seat.

"...Wow," was all he could think to say.

"I'll take that to mean you're interested in taking this date somewhere more private?" Sylvie cocked her eyebrow, with an intoxicating smugness that told him she already knew the answer.

He didn't have time to think if he should be embarrassed, before he nodded "yes."

* * *

Not for the first time, Noah wondered if this was all a dream. He was, by any measure, a totally average guy. He'd had some past relationships, even a few alcohol-fueled one-night stands in college. But he'd had more than enough lukewarm Tinder meetups to know he wasn't the kind of guy to nail first dates so well that the woman invited him back to her place.

Yet here he was, leaning back on a beautiful woman's couch, while said beautiful woman straddled his lap, ran her fingers through his hair, and made him very familiar with her tongue piercing. His own hands were roaming up and down the sides of her lithe body, cresting over hips, tickling the skin that peaked out between the criss-crossing ties of her dress.

He couldn't get enough of her scent, sweet and heavy like dragon's blood incense. Leaned back on the couch, her hair fell in curtains around his face. In that moment, she was all that he could sense -- Sylvie was everywhere and everything.

Eventually, she backed off enough to let them both catch their breath. For the millionth time, he found himself dumbfounded by her eyes, and could feel himself getting lost in them again.

"You know, I'm already in your lap with my tongue down your throat," she said suddenly. "No need to be so gentlemanly. My ass and tits won't be upset -- promise."

"Oh! I uh, well, it's not that I, um, wasn't going to, but uh..." Noah stammered, blushing furiously. "I just...didn't want to assume?"

Sylvie chuckled, before leaning in to kiss his forehead -- a move that made him feel condescended to and made his stiff cock twitch in spite of himself. She slowly eased off of him to stand inches from the couch, between his parted legs. She reached behind her back, and her dress started to softly slip down her collarbone.

"Noah, let me be real with you. You're a sweet guy. Cute, open-minded, and a pretty good kisser to boot. But the one thing you're definitely lacking is initiative."

Noah's face burned. He looked down from her eyes, too embarrassed to meet her gaze. It was much easier to watch the neckline and shoulders of her dress inch closer and closer to the edge. For a few more seconds, the fabric clung to Sylvie's body, before gravity firmly took hold and pulled it down, to reveal the beautiful sight behind it.

Sylvie was thin, fit, the way he always imagined pixies might look if they were real. Her skin was pale, but carried a warm hue that only helped to make her lacy, black underwear stand out to the eye. Her bra held modest, beautifully perky breasts. A garter belt clung to her hips, holding up her stockings up over taught, athletic legs. The bulge straining against her frilly panties assured him his "lack of initiative" couldn't be that big of a turn off.

"Don't take that as a criticism, by the way," Sylvie continued as she retook her position in his lap. She leaned in until he couldn't look anywhere but her eyes, forehead to forehead, and took both of his hands in hers.

"Then...how am I supposed to take it?" He almost meant for it to sound combative, but all he could muster was an earnest plea for guidance. Before responding, Sylvie pulled his hands up to her chest, urging him to squeeze and caress through her bra cups, to which the happily acquiesced.

"It's a compliment, really," she whispered, her eyes piercing into him, making his head spin and his cock twitch again. "Cuz I just so happen to like a man who isn't sure what he wants. It means he needs somebody else to tell him what he wants. Someone to make his decisions for him. Someone to obey."

"O-obey?"

"Allow me to demonstrate." She smirked, before fixing him with a demanding, predatory stare.

"Take off my bra. Now."

Before he could think, he was following her order. His hands stopped playing with her breasts, reached behind her back, and opened the catch. Moments later, he was peeling the flimsy material down her arms, and staring at two stiff, pebbly pink nipples.

"Good boy," she husked out, drawing him forward. Without needing to be told, his mouth descended on her right breast, and he started to kiss, lick, suck. "You see? You did exactly as you were told, and it made both of us happy. You were wavering, nervous, uncertain of what you were allowed to do. I cut through all of that to give you really wanted. That's what happens when you obey me."

He could only moan in response, caught up in her body to speak, but Noah couldn't help but think on her words. They were humiliating, demeaning even, but...he couldn't say she was wrong. Just by following her, letting her make the decisions, he had found himself clinging to his half-naked dream girl, tasting her tits, lost in her scent and touch and voice...

While he was lost, Sylvie's hands were busy -- untucking his shirt, unbuckling his belt, and ever so carefully easing his pants and underwear down. Before he knew it, Noah's cock was free, standing hard and ready. One of her hands began to teasingly circle the head, making him gasp hard enough to come free from her nipple.

"You like that, boy? Happy to be out in the open and free?"

"Y-eah-"

"You want to feel even better?"

"Yeah!"

"Good! Then all you have to do is look into my eyes," Sylvie leaned in, her eyes wild, pupils dilated, staring into him in a way that would have scared him if he was so fucking horny. "And relax for me."

At that word, Noah let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. The same instant, he felt his body ease back into the couch, allowing Sylvie's weight to totally pin him. His eyelids drooped. His hand slowly fell from her breasts to rest at his side. The only thing still tense was his cock, twitching and jerking in her grasp while he stared helplessly into her eyes.

"Mmmf, I love seeing the first drop so much," she mumbled. Noah wasn't sure what she meant, but it didn't bother him. His mind was as limp and slack and his body. All he could focus on were Sylvie's eyes and the intense, tingling pleasure of her playing with his dick.

"Thaaaat's it baby. Just drift in this feeling. Let me worry about everything else while you just bask in this pleasure and listen to my words. Give into the wonderful, delicious feelings and trust yourself to me. Listen and obey. Listen and obey..."

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