First Date Glory Ch. 01

'Kinky Queen Seeking Her Kinky King.'

That's what her Tinder bio concluded with. A provocative last sentence in a world of often disappointing finales.

Laney Walker. That was her name.

We met in 2018 when I was 22 and she was 21.

We went to the same fancy, east coast liberal arts school, and we took similarly over-ambitious classes. Our majors would have nothing to do with our future careers, but that's what being 21 and 22 was like at that time. We were happily drifting like everyone else.

Thankfully, drifting allowed for lots of partying and sex and drugs, and all the things you finally do when you are living far from home for the first time, which both of us were.

There were seven, gloriously adorable pictures on her profile that seemed to imply that she was fun. Smart. Kinky. Cute. Tomboyish. Feminine. And predominantly up to no good.

She was a dead ringer for Aubrey Plaza, right down to the mischievous eyes; with her hair cut short and teased out. Her body looked incredible. There was the perfect, heart shaped ass that was always evident because everything she seemed to wear clung to her body without letting go. Yoga pants and jeans and sweats and even skirts. It all just hugged her tight and put her on display, and she clearly knew how sexy she was. There was a power in a younger girl who already knew they were that hot. It was a different caliber of woman.

We had a very quick rapport over our chat that week, with lots of flirting that led to even more obvious jokes and even more suggestive flirting. There was a zippy challenge to our dialogue. I never once felt like I was skipping ahead in the text with her. If anything, she outpaced me, and so far, I had loved trying to keep up.

We immediately decided we needed to get together for some drinks at a bar that Friday night.

I told her that I wasn't looking for anything serious.

"Neither am I," came the reply.

So it was craft cocktails at Barlow's, which was this downtown speakeasy in an underground 1950's bomb shelter motif that everyone just loved. The drinks have Green Chartreuse and Dubonnet and Lillet Blanc. The drinks have egg white and fire and smoke. It's thematic joy splashed on every wall and attention to detail ingrained in the cherrywood of the bar, which is perfectly polished with the appropriate amount of era-accurate varnish. That's how I was hoping to come off, wearing jeans and a short-sleeve, button up, which I felt highlighted my muscles well enough. Then from there, some workmanlike boots. Not formal. Just enough pulled together to make a point about how well I can handle things.

We set our rendezvous for 9:00 and I snagged us a spot at the actual bar-top when I got there to make sure we had good seats. Hunting for a bar-spot is one of the most romantic things about dating in the modern era. A lot has been taken from us...but finding a partner who knows how to stake out a bar spot is a genuine trait I look for in a girl.

I got incredibly lucky. Nothing was available right away, but an older couple got called away by some babysitter drama at home, and there it was...just to the right of the middle of the bar, centrally positioned to have a million, possible interesting things to talk about at once.

The bartender greets me and I order a couple of waters. Then I tell him I'll need a minute.

I'm browsing the cocktail list when I see a very cute girl bounce down the stairs at the other side of the room, her figure illuminated by the nearby row of Edison lightbulbs and vintage boxing posters that theme the nearby hallway.

Her short, dark hair is messy-teased and she's wearing a flared brown, plaided skirt, with a low-cut dark red cotton top that she buttons only up until her breasts come into view. Her top buttons are left undone and I can see her beautiful curves poking out all over. She is effortlessly sexy with every step she takes and I'm already very into her entire vibe before she's even made it to my outstretched hand and dumb smile at the bar.

I hold out my hand but she pushes it away with a smirk and leans in to give me a very tight hug.

What? This girl is fucking cool.

"There, now that's done...we've hugged each other and we don't have to spend the first thirty minutes of our date being weird about whether or not our legs touch at the bar." She pops up on the seat next to me, and leans over to grab another menu. As she does this I can see the way her ass lifts off the bar stool and shows off her soft, upper legs and my eyes follow those legs down to her dark brown heels which lift her amazingly perfect calves. She has an athletic sexiness with a dressed up swagger.

"Hi! You must be Tommy?" She reaches her hand out now to me and we shake.

"Yes, and that makes you Laney," I say, and she is already nodding and smiling at me.

"The one and only."

We hit it off immediately.

She orders a Mezcal Negroni and I order a Rob Roy, and then we both get another one. We talk for the next hour about all sorts of things.

We stop to take a bathroom break each. My skin is starting to feel that familiar kind of alcohol warm mixed with connective buzz.

When I get back to the bar, she's waiting for me with two shots and two beers.

"Ah? So we're switching it up?" I ask, laughing, and she gives me my poison with a "Well?" sort of look, and I know I have zero choice. As if I didn't want to follow her anyway.

We down the whiskey shots and both of us do our best stoic faces. It's a high proof whiskey I can tell. She is definitely not fucking around.

"So you trying to get me wasted, Laney?" I ask, laughing.

"Well...I'm definitely getting you to the fun conversation portion of the night," she parried.

"Oh, well that sounds great. You should know this is a category I am VERY well-practiced in." I say to her, and I noticed we're now both turned in our bar seats, legs towards each other, intertwined on the stool steps below us.

"Well...okay, let's see, where to begin. So...you're clearly a very sexy guy...but I want to know what turns you on," she says, as she takes a very cute swig of her beer. I could tell she was starting to feel the increased friendliness of the booze.

"Okay...let's see...turn-ons. We should probably do these first, yeah?" I say, as I reach for the whiskey shots she's ordered."

"Ah, yes, right," she grabs her shot glass which is just one of those bar tumblers that always seems to have way more than just one shot inside of it. "To the honesty that alcohol brings," she says, without having to think.

"Cheers to that!" I agree, and we down our liquid courage. I try my best not to make a little sound, but I definitely twitch a little at the high-proof enabler of our ever-increasing words.

"Okay...where were we?" I ask, wondering if she's still on board. She doesn't miss a beat, as she sets down her beer from a chaser sip.

"Turn-ons. What are you into?" She puts one of her knees against the inside of my leg and smiles at me a little with the challenge of the question.

"Well..." I almost laugh a little because I'm so into this girl. "I dig confidence. I think confidence is my absolute biggest turn-on. Honestly..."

"Really?" She says surprised. "I never meet guys like that...they always want some meek sex kitten, which is so boring, ya know?"

"No...I love it. Honestly. I think it's sexy as fuck. I don't always want to lead." I say, and I'm so into her level of interest in every word I say.

"I love it, what else?" She asks.

I gulp another gulp of tasty beer, and after the fizz has fizzed, I launch into my list: "Well, I dig a lot of obvious guy stuff...besides, ya know, fucking and oral sex; lots of positions...etcetera, etcetera...I like lots of talking during sex. I'm VERY verbal. I think it's very hot to talk a lot during sex and bring up sexual fantasies and make the other person cum just from the sexy things you can say in bed." She's nodding with me as I say this, as if she is a fellow acolyte of verbose eroticism.

"So...let me guess, you like lots of: "Fuckkkk, Daddddy, Yuuussss...cummm in my asssshole, Daddddy...I neeeeed your cum deeeep inside me...pleasssse," she says to me, and she touches my knee through my jeans when she says this which drives me insane. I'm already hard from having this conversation, and my boner is straining against the front of my pants. Thankfully it's dark enough that no one can see under the bar in this place.

"Yes. Fuck. AbsoLUTELY like that. But like...I dig it all, I dig talking about fantasies during sex, ya know? Talking about kinky things you want to do together or..." I grab her hand in mine on the outside of her leg and she links fingers with me loosely, "...things you want your partner to do. I like the idea of being with someone who is sexually adventurous and that has a completely insatiable sex drive. That's my type." I say it like I want her to know it. Like fuck it, what do I have to lose?

"I have an insanely high sex drive," she says, as she puts her legs on either side of mine now so we're basically me-her-me-her on the barstool. This allows us to get even closer as we trade off flirtatious touches now.

"Well yeah...me too. Like really high," I say.

"Okay so, what's your number?" She asks me, immediately forgetting that I hadn't even come close to finishing my list of turn-ons, but we're tipsy and the conversation is in that place where it bobs and weaves with each new exciting idea that zooms up the synapse of connection.

"My number is..." I stop to pretend not to know for a second, but of course I know. I'm 22 and all I think about is sex and what I've done sexually. "Mine is 10," and I think that's impressive for my age. She can probably even sense my presumed swagger.

"Oooh, very nice," she says, sweetly. And I know immediately she's messing with me.

"Okay...so...what's yours?" I ask, and she's already wearing a guilty grin.

"Well...mine is 22," she says. And her eyes are wide and honest, and she is cute as fuck as she blinks back at me like an even-minded cat.

"Wow, 22?? And you're only 21?? That's an impressive number. How'd you pull that off...were you an early bloomer or...?"

"Nooo! I actually was a LATE bloomer...only lost it at the end of high school...but then..." she started to trail off, as if thinking about her first time.

"You discovered sex and became a ravenous slut?" I cut in, half-joking. But the word is out there for the taking.

"Oh my God. YES," she laughs, almost spitting beer out of her nose a little.

"I knew it," I said. And we clink glasses for no reason whatsoever.

"But how did you know it?" She asks, as she takes another sip, and I can see the suds of the beer on her gorgeously soft lips.

"Because that's me. I was a very good kid in high school...mostly." I say, allowing for the fact that I definitely wasn't exactly, nor did I want to be.

"Mostly...yeah...me too, mostly. I like...gave a handjob or seven. And a blowjob. And I mayyyyyyy have fingered my girlfriend at a sleepover two or three times."

"Wow...I'm so impressed right now. I feel like you might actually be a level above me on the current sex video game of life," I humble myself to her. I'm also crazy turned on hearing her admit to both her sexual history and her apparent girl-on-girl fun. Though I probably would've guessed that by her profile. She did call herself the "Kink Queen," whatever that meant.

She laughs and squeezes my leg with both of hers, and I repeat the action with my outside leg and now our legs are just stuck together and it feels very fucking nice.

"Hey, ten is still an impressive number," she assures me, "It's a little bit easier for me to get what I want, when I want it, cuz...well..."

"Cuz you're a girl and you fucking look like that?" I finish her sentence, as I point up and down her body with my beer. A little sploshes over the edge of my glass and spills onto her bare leg. She simply looks at me and runs her hand over the beer, bringing it up to her mouth to lick it up. She never takes her eyes off me.

She beams at the second compliment. "Well, not to be conceited or anything...but yeah. Basically." She's the type of hot girl who knows she's hot, but that doesn't mean she doesn't want to be told a lot by someone who isn't afraid to to be genuine with a crazy beautiful woman-a quality usually lost on the type of guys who attempt to approach her at bars or clubs.

"You are insanely gorgeous, you know." I say confidently to her. I want her to know how into her I already am. It's that kind of good.

"Mmmm, thank you, you can always say things like that to me by the way. I will always love them." And I can tell she feels the same so far. It's just...there. Hanging in the air between us.

"So what is the next question?" I ask her. "I get the feeling if you call yourself the kink queen, you're probably holding out on some other, more interesting sexual interests that we haven't yet covered," I was grinning at her because she was already showing her hand with the way she bit on her lip and gazed back at me through the glass of her half-drunk pint glass.

"It's your turn," she says, and I realize she's right.

"Okay," I size her up, as I enjoy the way we are both clearly squeezing each other with our legs, the vibe building with each minute. "What is the craziest thing you've done in bed?"

"Oh...easy...I was in a blood ceremony and killed twelve Swedish men." She joked, and I almost spit out some beer.

"Fuck...did they deserve it at least?" I parry.

"Seven of them did."

And we both laugh hard. It's the kind of joke that doesn't require further explanation or addendum. Because why not? Seven is better than half right?

But then she gets down to business.

"Hmmm," she searches her sexual memory-scape as she bobs her head up at the ceiling and enjoys the LoFi track that the recently-installed DJ has now boomed into life throughout the bar, "that would definitely have to be my threesome with two guys."

"Fuckkk!" I blurt out. I'm instantly harder in my jeans than I had been already. "Really? Oh my God I need to know everything," and I realize I must sound desperate but this girl is such a fucking fox and the idea of her being used by two cocks is driving me wild in realtime.

"It was two of the college baseball jocks at my school. We were all drunk at a frat party that I crashed, and I convinced them that I would let them do whatever they wanted to me...but they had to fuck me together in a threesome."

"WOW! So you were the one that convinced them to?" I said, so fucking impressed with this girl.

"Yeah...they both wanted to fuck me already...they just didn't realize they'd have to make a deal to make that happen...I kinda got off on being so in control of them both." She smiled at me as she nibbled the edge of her beer glass. God she was the sexiest fucking thing I'd ever seen. Truly.

"So did you love it?" I asked her.

"Oh...FUCK yes. It was amazing. I got to get fucked from both sides at the same time. It made me feel so sexually powerful, ya know? Like, I loved getting to be that slutty with them." She said to me, sitting up and sliding her hand up the inside of my leg now.

"That is so sexy, Laney," I say, and I feel her move her hand further...only inches away from my hard-on. I slide my hand further up the inside of her bare thigh. She flexes her leg in my hand and I squeeze back as she grabs the bartenders attention.

"One more round?" She asks me, and I quickly agree.

"Okay...my turn," she says, after the bartender has seen her quick circle of fingers in the air.

"Do you want to fuck me right now?" She asks simply, and I laugh a little like a kid getting caught sneaking out of the house.

"Yes. Absolutely. I very much want to fuck you." And we clink our newest drinks, as she wraps her arm around mine to toast in a new style.

While I slurp down my first sip her fingers slide up and bump into my sizable boner, and I watch her eyebrows go up as she traces the outline of my cock for just a moment.

"Mmm, you are so insanely sexy," I say.

"I know," she answers, as she sticks out her tongue and flicks the top of her teeth.

"My turn," I say.

"It is your turn," she bites her lip, and I'm dying to ravage this girl.

"What is your favorite position to cum in?" I ask, and now my hand slides all the way up and traces the inside of her silk thong panties. I can feel how wet she is and she hums a little at me as I near her pussy for the first time.

"I umm..." I'm rubbing my fingers along the outsides of her thong, teasing the front patch of her Victoria's Secret panties. "I like to be bent over on a bed with my ass arched up behind me and pounded. I like to be fucked very hard, and I like to be spanked and talked dirty to," as she said this my fingers slipped over her panties and rubbed down her clitoris through the thin fabric. She shook in her seat and I quickly repeated the motion.

"How do you like to cum?" She asked me, and now her fingers were just tracing the helmet of my cock. If the bar wasn't so dark, it'd be pretty obvious we were fooling around with each other, but it had filled up with people and the dimmed blue lighting was perfect for this kind of naughtiness.

"I like to cum all over a girl's pussy and ass...or all over her chin and mouth and face...and then I like to bend down and clean up my mess." As I said this I slipped a finger inside of her panties and into her soaking juices for the first time.

"FUCK. REALLY???" She had this big asshole-eating grin on her face, and I could tell how much that turned her on.

My finger pushed inside of her pussy. "Yes. Really." And I said each word firmly. Decisively. Her eyelids fluttered a little as she hid behind her drink.

"I fucking LOVE that...unf...sooo much, you have no idea how hot that is to me," she was doing her best to maintain composure.

"Yeah?" I asked coyly. I was glad I was honest with her. It thrilled me to be able to tell her I liked cleaning my cum off my partner and not even have her flinch.

"Yes." She was looking at me very intently now.

"What's the craziest place you've ever been fingered?" I asked her, not allowing our seductive pace to slow down. We were both on the verge of being drunk and the vibe between us was immaculate. I was slipping my fingers into her pussy as she stroked hers along the length of my penis through my pants.

"Ha!" She laughed, though it came out in half a squeal. "Actually...that would have to be on the Matterhorn at Disneyland...but this is definitely climbing the list."

We were quiet for a second, enjoying the sexual tension between us as they turned the bar even darker. People were beginning to get up and dance now at an area reserved for that very purpose across the room.

"Do you get off on the idea of being sexual around other people...does it turn you on knowing that we're playing with each other around all these people right now?" She asked, keeping up her end of the game pace as her fingers admired the length of my shaft through my pants.

"Yes. So much. This is really fucking sexy right now," I told her.

"I know," she said. "Wanna make the game even better?" She asked me, taking her hand off my cock as she leaned back a little to pull herself together a little.

I sat up, doing the same, as my fingers slipped out of her. "What did you have in mind?" As I asked this, I took a big swig of beer and stopped to smell her delicious pussy funk on my fingers. It was intoxicating.

She opened her clutch and pulled out a purple, silicone sex egg. I'd seen similar devices at sex shops and in the various sex toy collections of the girls I'd dated. She reached up and put it in her mouth and sucked on it for second, without caring whoc could see. I gulped and smiled at a guy who walked by us, headed for the restroom, as he glanced at her sucking on something.