Late for My Date Ch. 02

This is huge. My hot girlfriend is a slut, ready to indulge me in a fantasy high on my list. I think it's pretty high on hers too.

"That hotel?" she asks.

"Yes. My treat. But let's hang out here and enjoy the drama."

Katie squirms when I suggest it. We're always on the same page. When I once told her foreplay can begin with a text the day before we see each other, she was all over it. In fact, we had months of foreplay before we met in person. (And that first date was nothing but foreplay.)

She got right in my face - in that good way. "I really want you inside me. Then I want you to see me deal with our friends." Holy shit.

I'm ready for everything that's going to happen. Eager too. But the anticipation and the slow pace will make it hotter. She gets this.

Stubble has gone back up to the bar to talk to his old friends again. After about a minute and some more wine, Katie gives me a look and follows Stubble, joining the conversation - or at least sidling in there and allowing herself to be introduced to Stubble's friends.

So I'm left at our table with Tall, who has this range from roaring when the Rangers score a goal to looking my girlfriend in the eyes and spilling his soul out to her. We try to talk about how excited we both are about all the young talent on the Rangers, but who are we kidding? Tall has had enough to drink and wants to know about Katie.

To see Katie at the bar flirting with Stubble and his friends and to watch hockey on the TV requires almost the same angle, so if we want, we can pretend to be watching hockey. I think we pretend less after enough alcohol. We're watching Katie, who returns Stubble's physical affection with her own. After Stubble's arm has been almost chastely around her shoulders for a few minutes, Katie takes her hand and rubs Stubble's back. Under the shirt.

It's a bold move. She doesn't check with me. By now she knows I'm game. In fact, this is child's play at this point, although I'm sure Stubble is thanking God. I also like the looks on his friends' faces, who had no idea Stubble was such a studly pickup artist. But Tall is incredulous. Male friends can get pretty competitive, after all, and he figured (possibly correctly, but who knows?) that he had a better shot at Katie, with his thoughtful rap, than average height Stubble, who's funny, but that's about it. This is how I imagine Tall's thought process anyway, and it makes me laugh.

Tall has to know. "What's her deal?"

It's such a vague question that I almost automatically respond with a `What do you mean,' but I know what he's asking, more or less, so I'll just throw it out there. "We're very free. We give each other as much leeway as we can. She does what she wants and we're cool." He gets it, I think.

Tall makes a move that makes me think I'm right about competition between bros. He gets up to hit the bar and get another beer; to do this, he has to squeeze by Katie and the three dudes. You can see it coming from a mile away. Still, let's see Tall's move. Katie has her back to Tall and me at the table. Stubble is to her right, thrilled that Katie has her hand on his bare skin, I'm sure. We can see Stubble's friends' faces; their backs are against a wall. So there's no way around it. He gets to the foursome and to pass by, he's got to make contact with Katie and move her just an inch or two forward.

The gentleman would either hold her by both shoulders or move her the requisite space with a gentle hand on the back. Tall puts one hand on each hip. And takes his time. `That's not bad,' I think. Katie is down with Tall's move. She doesn't budge. Tall is going to have to squeeze through. I'm watching this whole time, curious to see how this will resolve, and the result isn't a huge surprise. Tall squeezes through sideways with his front (that is, his big bone) rubbing into Katie's back. Ideally, and I'm sure Tall is thinking this, his clothed cock would settle like a puzzle piece between her buttcheeks as he passes through not particularly easily. Sometimes there is such a thing as too tall.

Tall seems to take the setback in stride, maybe because he's actually quite happy to have put his hands on Katie's hips with such carte blanche. Or maybe he's thinking about the return trip to the table.

With a beer in one hand, more beer in his bloodstream, and emboldened by the success of his first grope, Tall surprises me on his way back to the table. He surprises Katie even more. With Stubble still on her right as they talk to the friends, Tall settles on Katie's left. With his free right hand, he reaches behind her and around her ass to her right cheek. He's got his hand on her ass now, but after a few circular rubs, he's not leaving well enough alone.

He's stopped rubbing. In his fist he's gathering cloth from the back of Katie's button down, allowing the back of her button down to lurch upwards half an inch at a time. Holy shit.

Once the necessary length of shirt has been pulled up, Tall has the bottom of it clenched in his hand. Katie's ass is briefly exposed and some of the warmest and happiest memories of my life come streaming back. The first daring photo she shared with me was of this perfect ass. The secret but natural and obvious thought was that one day, and soon I hope, I'll have my hands on that ass. The more secret and, for lack of a better word, more idiosyncratic thought, someday I want to show it off to my friends. (Yes, we hadn't been on our first date and I was having this bizarre fantasy, but that's how nice her ass is.)

As I continue to think back on my Katie ass fantasies, I see the back of the button down tumble back to its normal length, covering Tall's right hand.

-------

When a new buddy you've just met at a bar has his hand on your girlfriend's bare ass - and the move isn't sneaky, rather perfectly overt - you think. Or at least, I think. `Is she just entertaining me, or is she into it?' And, `I'm so glad she trusts me not to freak out on her. Some guys at a bar would feel threatened.' (In fact, an old friend of mine got the shit kicked out of him just for talking to someone else's girlfriend at an event. I'm serious! Turned out the guy had some sort of disorder. It all came out in the lawsuit.)

I don't feel threatened. Quite the opposite, ironically. The bond between Katie and me is strong. Each of us enjoys the idea of the other having a little fun. When things get too tense or too serious, one of us will remind the other that it's supposed to be fun. And isn't hanging out at a bar, drinking, watching hockey, flirting, pushing limits when it turns out there are no limits when there's enough love, isn't this all, you know, FUN? And we could never be having fun like this if we had, for lack of a better term, couple issues.

I'm watching Katie. I don't even notice a spectacular fight taking place between a handful of Rangers and Flyers. I'm watching her. She knew about my voyeuristic tendencies early in our relationship, I think, and was unfazed. Another she's-perfect-for-me-moment. She doesn't turn back; she knows I'm watching and enjoying. For the first time, I'm kind of in some sort of planning mode. Katie is much more of a planner than I am, but right now she's got her hands full, you might say.

We need to get to that hotel. I want to invite Tall and Stubble to join us. It's funny. If I were Autistic, I'd simply tell them, "We have to go now. Would you guys like to fuck her when I'm done with her?" But somehow that seems absurdly unhip, but what's even more absurd is that I'm worried about how it will come out. Of course it doesn't matter how I present it to them! I've got what they want!

Interrupting my little foursome planning session is a big fat guy who needs to get through Katie's little group of friends by the bar. Unlike Tall, the Fat Guy requires far more space to get through. He's not quite an insider either; he's not going to grope anyone while passing through. Fat Guy breaks up the little conversation by the bar. Katie, Tall, and Stubble all come back to the table, Katie gently settling on my lap. I am rock hard. And despite being very familiar with Katie's assets and the contours, oddly eager to explore them. I guess it's not so odd. She always does it for me.

Women might not understand this, but the combination of a hardon and a human body sitting on your lap is a delicate operation. A flaccid penis is far more flexible and amenable to shifts and pressure. While there's maybe nothing in the world a straight male would rather have happening than a beautiful, sexy woman, down to just a thin shirt, basically, sitting on his lap, close care is recommended. I need to adjust.

I grab Katie by the ass and prop her to her feet. She's not so steady. For all her fabulous qualities, the great ass, the eternally warm heart, the quick wit, and the sunshine eyes, she's a lightweight. (I guess that could be considered a quality as well, but that's a whole other story.) Katie rotates to a standing position and tips into Stubble's arms.

Really, though, she just tips into Stubble, not just his arms.

OK, she doesn't tip. She spills into him.

It's almost as if prepared for this, like a kid with a glove at a ball game, waiting for that foul ball that might or might not ever come to him. While I'm working out the necessary adjustments in my shorts, Katie has stepped down out of my lap and fallen into Stubble. My own focus is necessarily on reaching inside my shorts and finding a comfortable angle for my erection. It's only a few seconds, but when I'm all straightened out, as it were, Katie is making out with Stubble.

Tall is observing this incredulously. He's not upset, I don't think. I saw his upset face when Katie and Stubble were getting handsy over by the bar, this is more curious than upset. I suppose he views having had ten minutes to explore her bare ass just moments ago as a victory. His trip to the bar will never be looked at as a waste. When Tall and I make eye contact, I look at him, shake my head in just the most subtle gesture. "Can't take her anywhere!" I declare.

Beer spews out of Tall like one of those hippos.

One of Stubble's buddies is passing by our table and can't help himself. "You two need to get a room."

Now beer spews out of me.

---------------

I notice that Katie's button-down is looser. So I peer around to see, and Stubble, optimistic and opportunistic, is working to unbutton her with one hand while steadying her with the other. I adjust some more, counterclockwise, to see that she's down to two buttons fastened. A part of me can let things progress this way, but really, how far will it go in a bar? I've also kept track of what she told me an hour ago. She wants me first.

"I think your friend is right," I say to Stubble, tapping him. "We should get a room."

Those words seem to halt the earth's rotation for a second. The line's been crossed. Katie buttons up and sits back on my lap. She's perfect. She's also wet. The guys look at us. Always take-charge, Katie extends the invitation. "There's a hotel we like just around the corner. We can go there and hang out."

"I know that hotel," Tall says. "I live right across the street." Stubble gives Tall that little nudge. "We can go to my place. It's better than a hotel."

Katie and I look at each other. Wordless eye contact. I shrug at her. These guys are harmless. Katie takes her phone out and snaps photos of both of them, which they don't object to. She also takes photos of the bar. Then she whispers in my ear, "I just want a couple souvenirs." She leads us away from our table toward the exit. Tall and Stubble are right behind her. I'm last, which is a position to observe from, of course.

Our path out is slow. Several times we have to stop and wait as people in no hurry enter or exit. During these delays, Tall and Stubble place themselves as close to Katie as they can. I'm pretty sure I see Stubble working the buttons on Katie's shirt again. But finally, outside.

The fresh, cool air seems to drive sense into my brain. I'm the least drunk of the four of us (does everyone who goes out drinking think that?), further sobered by the new air. Still, I'm going to enjoy every second of this. I'm hoping Katie is, too. I hope she's not shit-faced, for two reasons: one, I don' t want this to be a case of her being taken advantage of; and two, I want her to remember all this fun. We'll be gossiping and laughing about it forever.

So I'm the designated driver, in effect. I'll be responsible for 30 seconds here. I take Katie aside. She smells so good. I ask Tall and Stubble to give us a minute here. "You good?"

Her eyes blaze at me. Schwing! "I'm good. You're cool?"

"I could eat you up."

Katie and I are bathing in our little mutual lust and admiration. Stubble and Tall snap us out of our little haze. "You two coming?"

Then clever Stubble, in a loopy moment of clarity, shows true quick wit. "Are you sure it's safe to have her over at your place, bro? We should make sure she's not armed." I almost object. `You guys have already seen up and down her little shirt, you've groped and kissed and sidled and hung out and...'

But it's brilliant. I don't say a word. If they want to play it safe, Katie's got to be frisked. Tall, who's been losing to Stubble for some time now, if only in his mind, swoops in before Stubble is finished congratulating himself on his mental ace. Right there on a darkish New York sidewalk, he's undoing the button down, ostensibly to make sure she's unarmed. His tall hands explore Katie's breasts; even in relative dark, her nipples are visibly at attention. Tall, who has obviously seen The Godfather, informs Stubble, "She's clean."

Also apparent despite the darkness, my favorite thing. Katie's blushing.

Stubble is not to be outdone. "Hold on." Katie is going along with it. She makes an inquisitive face at him. Stubble takes Katie by a wrist and places her palm around a gate outside of a brownstone, then the other. It seems he'd rather put her in a position than tell her what to do. I get that. He takes one of her legs and widens her stance as she is leaned over this rail.

Not so drunk as to be out of control, Stubble looks up and down the block before making the boldest move yet. The back of Katie's shirt is now hiked up over her ass. She is bent forward over the rail. She is completely exposed and vulnerable. Completely.

Katie wants me first, she told me in the bar. I haven't calculated whether her getting fingered would count against that request. I also don't know if she only said that to be nice or if maybe she really wants me to have the first shot. Since I don't know, the best idea is to honor her wish. "I think she's pretty clean, buddy."

My interruption snapped Stubble out of the best night of his life. I actually felt bad. As if he'd been conned. Quick.

"Wait a second. How do we know YOU GUYS aren't carrying?"