First Date

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Off to a shaky start, things turn out well.
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"Hell, this is ridiculous," I thought. Black jeans and a gray shirt. Casual, but nice. "I don't have a chance." The dark brown suede jacket should work. Up-scale, but laid back. Don't want to look desperate, right? Never mind the fact that I haven't touched a woman in six months.

We've known each other for about a year. Tracey's divorced and I'm separated. My marriage is on the rocks because neither of us would give in. The lawyers will take care of everything, as long as I keep writing checks. Live and learn.

She's gorgeous, in my opinion, and she has some ridiculous notion that I'm an attractive man. I'd say average at best, but if she wants to get to know me, who am I to argue?

I finally find her house and ring the doorbell. Wow! I apologize for being 20 minutes late and I'm knocked out by her smile. We're both nervous but off to a good start. "You look really nice tonight." Shit, is that the best I can do? I've been dreaming about this woman for weeks and all I can come up with is "really nice." A black skirt and pink fuzzy sweater. She looks great and I'm not under dressed--relief! This is awkward for me so she opens her arms and we give each other a dramatic, ice-breaking hug. I guess the "really nice" thing was ok.

The feel of her against me. The smell of her hair. I remind myself not to stare at her, but it won't be easy. Especially the view, as I hold the door and she walks by me to the car. I am not worthy.

We have dinner at a favorite little Italian restaurant of hers. Red wine and pasta. Stimulating conversation. I actually had interesting things to say and didn't make a fool of myself. So far, so good.

Back at her place we kick off our shoes and have a drink. More aimless talk on the couch and we find ourselves gazing into each other's eyes. I really do not want to blow this but I have no idea what's expected here. I haven't dated in 15 years.

"Kiss me, John, you know you want to." As long as I live I will never forget those words! I lean forward and put my arms around her. We kiss. Deeply. Soon we're both half undressed and I'm nibbling and licking every bit of exposed flesh I can find.

She suggests we go up to the bedroom and I follow, still not quite believing this. Once there we finish undressing and she lights candles in various parts of the room explaining, "I'm a very spiritual person." Over the next few months I'll find out it's true, but for now I'm happy to admire her in the candle light.

Feeling her naked body against mine is hard to describe. More long, deep kisses. On the bed now, I'm on hands and knees above her, nibbling slowly from her forehead down. My low moans are answered by soft mewling sounds from her. I trail kisses to her breasts, slowly working my way along the underside of one, and then the other. Such feminine, sensual sounds come from her. Just hearing that makes it worthwhile.

Moving lower, I'm taking my time, trying to taste every inch of this creature beneath me. She shudders and sighs. Soon she raises both legs and rests her calves on my back. I work towards her center slowly, not wanting to miss an inch of her perfect skin. There's a small neat patch of closely trimmed pubic hair pointing the way to her clitoris, but her outer lips are completely smooth. Knowing her artistic talents (she's a writer, among other things) I'm not surprised.

Licking, gradually entering her, she writhes and I moan. Her reactions arouse me further, and I take long firm laps from the bottom to the top of her lips, ending at her clit and sucking it for a bit before repeating. I have no idea how long this goes on, but an urgency develops, and I move to enter her slowly, to the hilt, and give her another long slow deep kiss when I'm fully inside. We hold each other motionless and silent for a few moments, and then I begin thrusting. It seems like hours pass. She meets me each time and our eyes are locked until our orgasms build like a wave. The wind picks up outside and the windows rattle a bit, the house shuddering once in a while as a storm moves in.

I can't hold out. A long loud grunt becomes a deep sigh and she starts to come as I spend myself within her, wrapping her legs around me. After the spasms subside we hold each other and listen to the wind outside. I gently massaged her for while, running my fingertips along the smooth lines of her body, stroking with firm open palms, what she would later call "making love to her with my hands."

We made love twice more and we may have slept for a bit before the sun came up, I'm really not sure. All I know is the whole night was perfect.

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