She would Feel the Same

He knew it sounded corny, but anticipation had been building inside him the entire day. Longer, actually, depending on what he was thinking about. Anticipation for the romantic evening he had planned for the two of them, that excitement was for today. Anticipation for the still new relationship, that excitement might last the rest of their lives. He knew he was being silly, thinking this way, letting his mind wander. Still though, he had to be fair to himself. Things were going better than he had hoped. Just a few weeks ago a gorgeous girl accepted his offer for a date, and now here he was, happily planning another evening together. He was allowed to feel this way. Sure he felt a little swept along with it all, but that wasn't necessarily bad, and anyway he hoped she felt the same.

He had spent more time than he expected planning the date, but walking up to her front door the next evening, he didn't regret any of the effort. The front of her apartment felt familiar now, and seeing the scant and aesthetically placed decorations outside her door reminded him of who had arranged them. He hadn't been nervous before, but standing here now at her door his previous excitement blended with a hint of anxiety. They had been on several dates so far, but he was hoping tonight would be the next step in their relationship. Each of their previous outings had gone wonderfully. This one should go well too. Of course. Confidence. That's all he needed. Just have confidence. Clearly, they were great together. He hoped she felt the same.

He knew by the look on her face she had been surprised to see him dressed to the nines and with groceries in hand. Words had never been his strength, and when he had told her he planned a date, he hadn't said anything about the details of his plans. He wasn't sure how she would feel about having the date at her place, but she seemed game enough when he explained he planned to cook.

Now he had done almost everything: cooked, decorated with the table with the flowers he brought, served the meal, and finally cleaned up afterwards. It was this last part that he knew would be the most difficult for her to go along with. Miraculously, she had gone to sleep, or at least played along and pretended to for a few moments, so he could take care of the dishes. Now that all that was finished, his excitement gathered again. There was a decent chance this would be another amazing date, maybe even the best yet. He hoped so. He hoped she felt the same.

Dinner was done and the residence was quiet as he made his way of the kitchen. He stopped walking to listen. It was dim, but still light enough to see. The soft carpet beneath his feet had fresh vacuum lines, and he could see the walls in the hallway where he stood were decorated. Beautiful inside and out. Everything seemed to be going well so far. He hoped she felt the same.

He listened again. Still nothing. Was this a game they were playing? He continued down the narrow hallway. He'd already passed a guest bedroom, hers would be farther down. He hadn't been inside before, but mentally he noted, she kept a nice place.

He arrived at the last doorway and paused for a moment before continuing in. He tried to appreciate the moment. He knew, in some unarticulated way, this was a special moment. Yes, he was excited for the physical pleasure a night like this might bring, but he also honestly believed this might be more than physical too. He knew it's impossible to tell beforehand, but he had a feeling. They had a special connection.

She already had her eyes on him as he passed the threshold. Through groggy eyes, her stare struggled to make itself intense. The brief observation of her countenance was all it took, and he knew he had been right all along. There was no doubt she felt the same way. This confirmed it all beyond any nagging disbelief. The answer was yes. Yes, they did share a special connection. One that only they could understand. That thought combined with the cool air against his own nakedness caused a chill along his spine.

She was there.

Waiting.

Waiting for him.

She was prepared for him.

He could see all this in her eyes.

"You have beautiful eyes," he said. He knew that wasn't very good. Their connection and the way she looked deserved better than that, but he didn't know what. He wanted to compliment her body. To say that her breasts were perfect and intoxicating. To say that the curve from her wait to hip, accentuated as it was by the way she laid on the bed, left a physical ache inside his own body. "You're beautiful," he said again. It was all he could think to say. She remained where she was on the bed, but her presence was the only object of focus in the room.

The rhythmic rise and fall of her breasts continued to captivate, but now he also noticed her arms stretched lightly above her head in a clear and open invitation.

This was farther than they had gone before, but he accepted the invitation by crossing the remaining distance between them.

Gently, he lay his own naked body on top of hers.

At last the perfect words that eluded him before arrived, and he whispered quietly, his face close to hers, "You're mine."

Her eyes widened as realization dawned.

He reached down and cupped her bare breast in his hand. She started to draw her own hand back to push his away, but was held in place by the leather restraints which kept her arms high above her head.

"You're mine." He repeated.

Soon, she would feel the same.