Blind Date

(All characters are over 18 years of age)

I have a sister who is two years younger than I am.

Her name is Laurel, and she is a brunette who stands 5' 4" in stocking feet. My Dad maintains that she is the spitting image of Mom when Mom was that age, and it is easy to see how Mom wrapped my Dad around her little finger all their adult life. She has an olive cast to her skin she inherited from our Latina grandmother, and so even in the bleakest weather she glows with health, blessed with a year-around tan.

Yes, a tan all over. She's my sister - quit being a perv.

The first thing I usually notice is her emerald eyes which flash with intelligence and sarcastic wit. She is both book-smart and street smart; she claims that when I was born, I disappointed our "Fairy Godmothers" by being a Neanderthal troll throwback, so they saved all the good stuff in trust until she was born.

While I cannot definitively prove her theory wrong, there seems an abundance of circumstantial evidence to support her contention. My 5'9" frame is kind of a Neanderthal exhibit; just as Laurel could pass herself off as a graceful Tolkien elf out of the movies, I could pass as a dwarf... if dwarves came in taller sizes. I came from "good peasant stock" and grew up swimming competitively in high school; while I was no longer quite so ripped as I had been, I was still a good 180 lbs of (mostly) muscle.

At the moment, she had put herself in charge of preparing me for a blind date, for my sins. Friday she had bribed me with setting me up with a new woman at school to take her to a Halloween party at her friend's house. What she didn't know (but suspected from my self-satisfied grin when I picked her up to take her home again) is that at the party I had met a lovely lady in a leopard costume, taken her to her home, and became her version of catnip for a few wonderful hours. When she and I had parted, I had promised to call soon to take her to dinner, and perhaps a movie.

I didn't really care what we were going to do, so long as it was together. She could read a public phone book out loud and I would probably stare at her, utterly entranced.

I was smitten, even as I kept trying to keep my expectations low; I had no real idea of how much she liked me, or if I had merely been a convenient but helpful fellow in her hour of need that she had felt deserved a spectacularly disproportionate reward.

In any case, Laurel had called her friend on Saturday, and arranged for me to meet her for lunch on Sunday. I tried to explain that I was beginning what I hoped was a romantic relationship. Laurel was having none of it.

"Dane, I am glad you met someone you like, but let's be fair; you don't even know her real name. Besides, I already made the date and it's just lunch, not matrimony. Take her to lunch, make her smile and welcome to her new home."

Laurel had a point. Taking a woman to lunch as a welcome to a new city was a few hours on an otherwise boring Sunday for me, but a nice thing to do for a new friend of my sister.

At least it would keep me busy while I fretted about calling Kitty the Leopard Woman.

Laurel, feeling responsible for making sure I made a good impression, had gotten me out of bed at 9AM, and began running me through her checklist... which included wearing my charcoal-grey suit.

"Yes, you have to wear a suit. With a tie, in fact. It's Sunday, so many people will be wearing their 'Sunday best', so right or wrong I will.not see you out-shown by people who went to church and luncheon thereafter," she replied.

"What is wrong with black jeans and a polo shirt?" I questioned. If "Engineer Formal" was good enough for work, it should have been good enough for a casual lunch.

Laurel crossed her arms, tapped her foot impatiently, and gave me a world-class evil eye worthy of ancient brujas throughout the ages.

I threw in the towel. If Laurel wanted to treat me as her own personal Ken doll for a day, that also wouldn't kill me. There are some hills worth dying on, and this wasn't one of those.

I insisted on wearing my black tie decorated with Daffy Duck as Duck Dodgers. Laurel scowled, but let it slide. I take victories where I find them.

At the appointed hour, Laurel followed me to the restaurant. Close to the campus, Laurel would stick around and introduce us, then head out for some shopping therapy while her friend and I got to know each other.

Laurel had selected a Tex-Mex restaurant called Kali's, known for their inexpensive appetizers; during the week they probably fed half the college crowd, but was delightfully deserted during the weekend days. Laurel and I were seated on the patio, because "fresh air and sunshine set the proper ambiance", according to my ever-wise sister.

We were fifteen minutes early. Laurel forbade me a beer; I had soda water with a twist of lime instead. After a few minutes, Laurel got a mischievous sparkle in her eye, and I sensed that there was someone walking up behind me. I stood slowly and turned to meet my blind date... and froze while Laurel made the introductions.

"Abby, this handsome fellow is my big brother Dane. Dane, this gorgeous creature is my friend Abigail Walker."

I did not move.. I did not speak. My jaw dropped, just like a cartoon character on the receiving end of a 50 Lb. sledgehammer.

Abigail Walker was amazingly lovely. Her deep brown hair cascaded over her shoulders in soft curls. Hazel eyes twinkled back at me mischievously as her full, soft lips smirked knowingly. She was dressed casually in a knee-length grey skirt and black blouse. The blouse was buttoned all the way, exposing only a small amount of milky-white skin. She wore comfortable black flats on her feet.

I felt remarkably over-dressed.

"Hello Dane," she softly said, leaning in to kiss my cheek, my Thor's Hammer necklace peeking out from her cleavage.

I stood there as if her kiss had been administered with a paralytic poisonous flavor of lipstick from the Batman villain Poison Ivy (what can I say? I thought we had already established I was a nerd). Apparently I froze for so long her charming smile faltered, unsure of my reaction.

"You!" I said, blending an alloy of bewilderment and amazement. I did not know what to say; I was dumbstruck, I was enchanted. I was a Prince, who, having prepared to kiss the frog on a blind date, found a Princess as my reward! I recovered long enough to remember my manners, and held her chair for her so she could join the table.

Seeing my reaction was not based in horror, Abigail relaxed and laughed. "When Laurel called this morning and asked if I would meet her brother for lunch, I was all set to regretfully decline... but she mentioned your name was Dane, and I thought 'how many Danes can there be?'; it's not like your name was 'Steve', or 'Michael'." I glanced murder at my sister, but Abigail intervened. "No, she did not lead you into a fiendish trap - it's my fault. I thought... no, I'd hoped that Laurel's Dane was my fierce Viking plunderer..." I blushed; I had done my best to plunder every inch of her luscious form. "...but I kept my mouth shut, in case I was mistaken."

"You were at the Halloween party?" said Laurel, who turned to me. "You mean ABBY was the woman you took home and ravished?" Now it was Abigail's turn toi blush. Laurel laughed, turning back to her "Tramp! Sleeping with my brother on your first date!"

"Hey!" I said, defending Abigail. "Neither one of us slept, and we didn't fuck, either. We just kissed." I didn't tell Laurel that I had thoroughly kissed every inch of Abigail's breasts, face, neck, and cunt; it was none of her business.

Laurel gave me an incredulous look of disbelief. "Of course not. That Would Be Wrong," she said in a dry voice. I could hear the bloody capitalization. "Well, I guess my work here is done! You two have a marvelous lunch; I have shopping dragons to slay!" She stood and kissed me on the cheek. "Don't blow this!" she whispered in a loud voice before waving her farewells.

I turned back to Abigail. "I swear I told her no details, just that I had given you a ride home!" I promised.

Abigail was laughing softly. "If you hadn't given her details, I probably would have told her I met a guy with a talented tongue, and I don't mean scintillating repartee!"

Apparently, today was National Make Dane Blush Day.

She picked up the menu. "What would you like to eat?" she asked artlessly.

"Well, I know what I'd like to eat, but I want to be able to come back to this restaurant again," I said, smirking. My quip earned a swift unexpected kick in Ye Olde Shins under the table.

"Down boy... my mind is already so far in the gutter I need a stepladder to get to the curb," she joked. "I skipped breakfast; someone who shall remain nameless didn't spend the night and cuddle until morning, let alone make me breakfast!"

"Last time I make that mistake..." I said in a low tone of voice, earning more laughter.

"Damn skippy it is!" she confirmed.

We ordered our lunch - an appetizer of 'Mexican Egg Rolls' (a flauta by any other name with melted cheese guacamole as dip), and a double order of mixed fajitas. "Make sure they grill extra onions!" Abigail requested. "That is, if you want me to leave you any! I love onions." Her expression took on a dreamy look, and I hoped someday to rise in her estimation as high.

We ordered, and settled in.

"Dane, I have a confession to make... I hate making small talk!" she said, and then proceeded to do precisely that. "My name is Abigail Walker, but please call me 'Abby'; 'Abigail' is what I am called by my parents when I've been caught being bad."

"Abby it shall be," I confirmed. "Laurel said that you are an Accounting major?"

"I am... I know most people find it tedious, at best, but I like making numbers transform and do magic tricks. My Dad taught me math early; he is a Physicist, which is basically nothing more than applied mathematics, really." She grinned. "He started when I was four, and he told me it was a 'secret kind of magic'. He made learning it fun and mysterious, and I never looked back!"

"He sounds like a fun guy," I said. "Not that I am ready to meet your parents yet.."

"Probably not the best idea," she agreed. "Let's give them a few months to get used to the idea of their daughter dating before we walk you into the lions' den."

We chatted aimlessly for a bit until the food came. I learned that she had just moved here, that she was looking forward to NOT shoveling snow, that her parents were not happy that she had moved in with housemates instead of living with them in their new home, that she was 'socially Liberal but fiscally Conservative' (whatever that was supposed to mean), and that her family were devout Catholics but she was not. Mostly what I learned is that if I let her she would fill any silences; I was content to let her drive the conversation so I could listen raptly.

The food came and went. True to her word, she devoured the grilled onions with a rapacity that surprised me, although she graciously allowed me a generous portion... which she poached half of from my plate. "If it comes from your plate, it has no calories!" she excused. "A girl has to watch her figure,"

"I thought watching your figure was my job!" I mock-objected.

"If you let me have your onions, I'll let you do more than just look, she said, a naughty gleam in her eyes. "Speaking of which, let's play Truth or Dare? You can go first, but be careful with what you ask... I always tell the truth!"

"Truth or dare?" I asked.

"Truth," she answered.

"Do you really always tell the truth?" I asked.

"Oh hell no!" she laughed as she answered. "Truth or dare?" I chose the truth.

"What do you find most attractive about me?" she asked, looking away and blushing a little.

"I think... I think perhaps it's because you don't know how beautiful you are. I've dated the cheerleader type before, and I think that women who grow up being told how beautiful they are become used to having others adore them; they get shallow and lazy, relying on it and using it too much," I said, looking her straight in the eye. "You are absolutely gorgeous, but you don't seem to see yourself that way; your personality has depth and warmth, and a certain honesty."

"Kind words indeed, sir... but don't let me fool you. I can be as manipulative as the next person." She smiled to take the sting out of her warning, but I could feel her sincerity.

"I consider myself warned," I answered. "Truth or dare?"

"Dare," she said, throwing caution to the wind.

"I dare you..." I lowered my voice. "... I dare you to go into the bathroom and take off your panties, take them off, and give them to me."

"What if I am not wearing any panties?" she asked teasingly.

"..." Once more, words failed me. "Are you wearing panties?"

"Yes, I am. A special pair, in Laurel's brother was MY Dane," she confessed. Without another word, she stood and headed for the Women's' restroom.

I waited impatiently for her return, pondering the way she had emphasized 'her Dane'; I found that I liked the idea of her claiming me as her possession. She returned, her right hand balled in a tight fist. "Sorry it took so long," she said as she discreetly handed me her panties under the table.

I opened my hand. Her panties were a leopard print bikini style... and they were soaking wet.

"Sorry for the mess... I could not resist sitting in the stall, rubbing myself through the panties, bringing myself to the point of climax," she said. "I almost came anyway, I was... am... so damned horny."

"Now... truth or dare? Please choose dare," she said.

"Dare," I chose, not being completely stupid.

"I dare you to take my panties into the restroom, and use them to masturbate. I want you to return to me a sticky white mess." Her eyes seemed to dance with flames of lust as she made her request.

I took a deep breath, painfully aware of the throbbing of my cock. "I'll be right back," I said, amazed that I could walk with all of my blood pounding in my erection.

I made my way into a restroom stall and closed the door. I unzipped my suit trousers and released my phallus from the confines of my briefs. I brought the fragrant, sodden panties to my nose, and inhaled the spicy scent of her arousal. I rubbed her scent under my nose, and worshipfully, almost reverently, kissed the gusset, tasting her sweet honey.

I rubbed her wetness all over my turgid cockshaft, as she had requested. It did not take me long to achieve orgasm; I was far too excited, and cognizant there her naked cunt was probably waiting for my return. I came hard, and ropes of my sticky seed covered the crotch and ass cheeks of the panties, utterly overwriting her scent with my own.

I returned to the table and returned the sticky panties to her as discreetly as I could uder the desk.

"My turn for a dare," she said, standing up. She brought the panties to her face in full view, if anyone was watching, and licked a large dollop of fresh cum from the panties. "I'll be right back," she said as she once more palmed her panties into concealment and headed for the restrooms.

I waited with something bearing little resemblance to patience for her to return. This time it took her half the time of her earlier trip.

"That was an absolutely delicious 'dessert', Dane. Thank you."

"It was my pleasure, Abby," I said. "Quite literally, in fact."

"Mmmm...yes, yes it was, but it was mine too," she informed me. "I took the panties and put them back on, and rubbed your cum into my clit and labia... I came almost at once."

I could feel my cock resurrecting itself in my trousers. My excitement must have shown on my face, because she said "Are you free tonight?"

"I am at your beck and call!" I proclaimed.

"Oooh, I like that... maybe we'll explore that fantasy of mine another time," she said happily. "Tonight though, you are going to take me to a movie at the Palladium, and then a late supper, and then you and I are going to sleep and cuddle until my 10AM MWF class."

"What's playing?" I asked, not really caring. The Palladium was an older movie theater, converted from being a stage theater with a large roll-up screen that hung from the backstage rafters. It still occasionally functioned as a stage theater, but showed first-run movies during the week. On the weekends, it showed old movies, and at midnight on Saturdays showed the Rocky Horror Picture Show. The Palladium was a beloved local institution.

"I think it's CASABLANCA tonight" she said. "Now we both need to go home and freshen up... at least I do." She leaned forward and kissed my ear, whispering "I need a pair of panties that aren't ruined with both our cum, and while I love feeling your cum against me, it really only works when it's still fresh."

We gathered our things and I paid the check, leaving a healthy tip on the table. I opened the door for her and we embraced and took our time with a few delicious farewell smooches.

"I love the taste of your lips," she said as she finally pushed me away so that we could prepare separately for our date later tonight.

"Better than fried onions?" I asked cheekily.

"Heh," she laughed. "Don't push it!"