Supersized Desire

When he turns- drinks in hand- he catches me staring at him. I try to play it cool, but already know I'm oh so busted.

"Thanks, Adam," I smile sweetly at him when accepting my glass and placing it on a coaster in front of me.

He doesn't immediately say anything as he leans across and puts his own glass down. I'm helplessly enchanted as I watch him perform some minor contortionist manoeuvres to get back into his seat. While I could have made things easier for him, I barely even feel bad about it. That's how much I enjoy the show.

"Cheers," I say with my glass raised in his direction.

"Cheers."

I take a sip and observe him as he follows my example.

"So. Do you bring a lot of girls here, to your regular spot?" I ask.

He shakes his head briefly. "Believe it or not, it's been a while since I've been on a date."

"Me too. So you just come here to drink on your own, normally?"

He raises an eyebrow and folds his arms. "What about you, you normally sit at home and drink wine by yourself while browsing certain websites?"

I grin at him. At last, we're breaking some of the ice. "Good one. I just wanted to know what I'm up against here."

He leans back and lets his eyes linger on me. "I feel like I'm at a disadvantage. Like you know everything about me already, and I know nothing."

"Fair enough. What do you want to know?" I ask.

"What's a pretty girl like you-"

I hold my breath. He thinks I'm pretty at least.

"-doing browsing those sites? Inspiration? Research?"

I press my lips together and wait until he finally does look me in the eye again.

"I think it's probably the same reason why a lot of guys watch lesbian porn. They want to be the only penis in the room during sex. Same difference."

If he's shocked at my candidness, I can't tell. He takes another sip and continues to look in my direction. I seem to have stirred his curiosity.

"I was surprised to see your comment."

I was surprised I left the comment as well. But I'm not about to tell him that.

"Your turn. If you're not gay - and I'm inferring this based on what you messaged me and the fact we're both here right now - then what are you doing uploading videos onto that site?" I ask.

He pauses, then nods a few times. "That's a point too."

I shrug. "Because I almost wasn't going to comment. Why bother, when it's a lost cause, right?"

"I still don't get it, though. What are you doing here?" his voice has turned into a low mumble.

"I meant what I wrote, you know. I've been watching you for a while now," I say.

We stare at each other for a moment. I wonder if my words are having an effect. The table obscures the view of his crotch. If he's getting hard at all, I have no way of knowing.

I don't get a chance to think of something else to say, when my phone starts ringing. That'll be Rachel.

"Hang on, I need to take this," I say.

Sure enough, it's her name flashing on the screen. "Hello?"

The line is bad, I can't make out a word she's saying. It follows that she probably can't hear me either.

I gesture at him that I'm going to take this outside and mouth an apology.

"Yeah, sweets?" I say as I make my way out onto the terrace.

"Hey Em. I know I'm a little early... All fine? How's the date?"

I can't suppress a smile. Had she called a little earlier, I wouldn't have been sure what to say. But ever since we started teasing each other, I think there could be a positive outcome.

"I think it's going quite alright, considering it's a blind date."

"Blind dates are the worst. Ugh. I vowed to never do that shit again after the last disaster I had," Rachel complains.

"Yeah, in theory. But this one... I don't know. I'd like to see where it leads."

"Good stuff, babes. I'll talk to you later. Let me know when you get home."

"Will do."

I hang up the call and head back inside.

His glass is significantly less full than how it was a moment ago. Someone's in a rush! I plop down onto the chair and take a generous sip of my own drink.

"I'm sorry about that interruption. Blind date protocol," I say.

"Blind date, what-now?"

"Oh, you know." I wave his question away. "Tell a friend you're going on a blind date so they can call and rescue you if necessary."

"Ah. You didn't take the lifeline, huh?"

I frown and cock my head to the side. "Why would I? Did you think things were going that badly?"

He shrugs. "I'm not quite sure what to think, to be honest."

I run my tongue across my teeth and awkwardly push my wine glass around the table. His reaction is unexpected.

"That's too bad. I was rather hopeful so far."

"Were you?"

I look up and find him already staring at me.

"Okay, what is this, exactly? If you weren't interested, then why agree to meet me here?" I ask.

He shakes his head. "Look. You suggested it. Though, I have no idea why."

I lean back against my chair and return his stare.

"You already know why."

"I thought I did, but I'm not sure sure now."

Does he really want me to spell it out? After making it sound like we're so far apart, nevermind being on the same page, we're in different books entirely.

"You're doing it again," he says.

"What?"

"Staring."

I wasn't, I think. We're having a conversation. Just where else am I supposed to look if not at him?

I take a deep breath.

"It's hard not to. You're sitting right across from me."

"Yeah." He shrugs. "But I thought... You know what? Nevermind."

I frown again. How did things turn bad all of a sudden? For someone who publishes intimate videos of himself online, he's incredibly touchy about people looking at him.

"You thought, what?" I ask.

"I thought perhaps you were different. That just maybe, I could have a normal interaction with someone, without being reminded of what a freak I am." He downs the rest of his drink in one go and almost slams the glass back against the table.

My mouth is agape. Hell yeah, now I'm staring at him. "No, wait. What?"

Indeed, we're miles apart on our perceptions of this hook-up. I glance around to the left and right to see if anyone has noticed his outburst. Nobody seems to care.

"But that's not why I'm staring. I swear I had no ill intentions. Impure thoughts, more like. But-" I stammer. He's thrown me off my game and I don't like it one bit.

"It's okay, really. It's my own fault," he says.

I shake my head again. He's misread the situation completely, but then again, so have I. I can't really blame him for his observations. Had the tables been turned, I might have felt uncomfortable too.

I lean forward and lower my voice. "Look, I have been completely inappropriate so far and I'm sorry. It's just..."

"Just, what?"

"I've already seen... everything. And you're sitting here trying to make conversation, and I can't unsee what I know to be right there. Does that make sense?"

The look on his face has gone from frustration to confusion now.

"You think I reached out to make fun of you? Oh, Jesus." I shake my head. God, he's going to make me spell it out, isn't he?

"Didn't you?"

"No!" And I'm starting to get pissed off myself now. "I thought you were hot. That's why I- What the fuck, Adam!"

He sighs and slumps back in his seat. "That's just classic."

My hopes for tonight are but a distant memory. Night to remember? Yeah, maybe. But for all the wrong reasons.

"Look, clearly our expectations were way off. We can just call it a night right now," I say, while pushing my chair back.

"Don't go. I'm sorry, Emily."

I pause for a moment, with both my hands resting on the edge of slightly sticky tabletop. He reaches across and despite my embarrassment, my heart still does skip a few beats when he places his hand on top of mine.

I inhale sharply and meet his gaze. How can he be so annoying and still so sexy at the same time?

"I've acted like a right prick. Can we start over?" he asks.

"Okay, but you better make it good."

"I'm utterly shit at this whole dating thing."

"It shows," I remark dryly.

"When you arrived, I had no idea how to behave or handle myself. I've been an absolute nightmare. Forgive me?"

I sigh and look down at his hand. How much larger it is than my own. It's so warm. So comforting. And he's not even doing anything with it yet. What else are those hands capable of?

"I guess that's okay. I've been a total creep myself," I whisper. "In my defense, I sort of assumed maybe you like being watched. Hence the videos."

He shrugs. "That's a fair assumption to make. Inaccurate, but fair."

I bite my lip and glance up at him. How can I stay upset at him when we're both in the wrong, at least partially? Perhaps the night can still be salvaged. Although normal is the last thing on my mind when it comes to my hopes for us.

"Maybe, if we can make it through a second round of drinks without getting into another argument, you'd like to watch for a change?" I suggest. "We'd be even. And you said you live nearby."

His face turns a couple of shades darker at my suggestion and he swallows hard.

"You're...Oh my God. I don't know what to do with you!"

Still, he finishes his exclamation with a shy smile.

I shrug and smile back at him. "You'll figure it out. Another drink?"

He nods.

I get up and approach the bar. Something tells me that this time he's checking me out. And I love it. The tables are turning.

***

We do make it through another round unscathed. And although I'm starting to feel the effects of the wine quite keenly now, Adam is showing hardly any signs of intoxication at all.

Our conversation has been flowing a lot more smoothly, so there's that. But I didn't come here to talk.

Once our glasses nearly empty, I scoot my chair closer to his and cross one leg over the other. His gaze lingers on my thigh. From the corner of my eye, I follow his line of sight. My dress has ridden up a bit, exposing quite a bit more skin than a moment ago.

"Remind me again why you got in touch today," he speaks in a low voice.

The rawness in his tone gives me goosebumps. Perhaps he is getting tipsy as well now. Or perhaps he's getting affected by something else.

"Because I'm a fan," I whisper, and stretch out my leg just enough to brush past his calf. The tension between us is almost painful. It takes a lot for me not to jump him right here.

And that look in his eyes, I've come to know it well over the past few months. I don't even need to see any more to know he's getting turned on too.

Good. That's how I want him. Teetering on the edge of self control.

"Excuse me," a female voice interrupts. "I just wanted to let you guys know that the kitchen is about to close. In case you were planning to order food."

We both look up at her, then look back at each other. We're starving, but not for a meal.

"No thanks, I think we're fine," I say.

His subtle nod tells me he feels the same way.

She leaves us just as suddenly as she appeared.

"How far is your place exactly?" I ask coyly.

Part of me still can't quite believe I'm about to go home with a guy I've just met. The smart thing would be to get a hotel. Some neutral ground. But that would take time and effort, and I'm not known for my patience. I promised him a show, and I'm a woman of my word. He will never forget what's about to happen.

"A short walk," he says.

I smile briefly and remember our very first interactions by message and mirror his earlier attitude. "Prove it."

I push my chair back and get up. My knees are wobbly, but not debilitatingly so.

He follows my example and offers me his arm. It's rather sweet, even if it's not the mood I was going for.

When we turn around and approach the door, I notice multiple sets of eyes on us. If he is indeed a regular here, I'm guessing my presence has sparked some curiosity at least.

He may not like attention, but I do. A little voice has awoken in my head, egging me on to take things further. I want to torture him a bit. Give him a taste of what's to come.

I look up at him, marvelling again at just how tall he is. My giant for the night.

He looks down into my eyes, really taking his time too. As if he can see all the filthy fantasies my mind has conjured up by now. It makes me giddy.

What do those full lips taste like? What about those hands which I've only seen him use on himself?

I'm determined to find out the answers to all my questions. I release my arm from his, only to wrap it around his neck and tiptoe to get closer to him. He yields immediately, his arm finds its way around my waist and face nears mine.

The anticipation for this moment has been killing me. I don't care who's watching. Strike that. I love that people are watching. While I know that he doesn't, I think he's beyond caring. All he has eyes for now is me.

As he should.

Upon inhaling deeply, I get a full dose of his intoxicating scent. I can't take it anymore and go in for that all important first kiss.

Our lips meet and any remaining doubts are wiped away. This was always how tonight was supposed to end. Neither of us were looking for a boring-ass first date. It's not love or romance we're chasing, it's this raw animal lust I've felt for him ever since I came across his very first video.

With my fingers now threading through his hair, I open my mouth and allow him access to my tongue. We dart around one another, tempting and teasing until we can't stand it anymore.

I forget our surroundings. Other people, even myself. It all fades into nothingness until the only thing that matters is him. His ample belly pressing up against me. The firm grip of his arm around my waist. The taste of his sexy lips, and the hungry movements of his tongue as he begs for all my attention.

He has awoken something in me. An urge I haven't known before. Throughout our conversation, even the awkward part, I've felt a new need. A desire to take control of this situation. Of him.

Something in his mannerisms and early insecurity tells me he'll let me have that, once we're alone. I can't wait to find out how far I'll be allowed to go. Will I get to own him completely, just for tonight?

We release each other, breathless.

"Let's go," I whisper.

He doesn't pause or think twice. We leave the pub in a rush. Has he ever walked home this quickly? The thought puts a devious smile on my face.

By the time we get to a nondescript building just off the main road, he pauses and catches his breath.

"Are you sure you want this?" he asks.

He's so out of shape... The short walk has turned his face a brighter shade of red and he's sweating a bit as well despite the cool evening breeze. Meanwhile I'm so turned on I'm equally breathless.

"Am I sure? Unlock the fucking door and find out!" I say.

He gives me a sheepish look, then digs around in his pocket for his keys. I can't wait to get these clothes off him.

Everything I've thought and dreamed about these past few months is about to come true. My excitement is reaching record levels and the longer he delays it, the more likely I am to snap and take matters into my own hands already. If we end up fucking in the stairwell, so be it.

Or out here.

I really don't care anymore.

But I keep these thoughts to myself and allow him to lead the way. This is how we'll start the night. I'll let him set the pace for as long as I can stand it, but really, I know who's meant to be in charge here. I'll be biding my time, then flip things around.

He's a beautiful man. My own embodiment of perfection. Memories of all the times I've watched anonymously flood my mind.

Still, I remember what I promised him back at the pub. I promised him a chance to even the playing field. To give him a show to make up for all the times he's done it for me already online.

I will give him that night I'd promised myself. I'll give him everything he could possibly desire.

In return, I have no doubt he'll let me have what I want the most. Control.

Although I had no trouble getting dressed on my own, I turn around and present my back to him.

"Unzip me." I gather my hair and drape it over my shoulder and out of the way.

He inhales sharply through his teeth, then reaches for the top of my dress. His hesitant touch tickles. As he pulls down the zip all the way down, I feel my own senses heighten even further.

As high as my expectations are, I know I will not be disappointed. He's everything I want tonight. Even if he does nothing at all, and I do all the work, that's still better than having a sad lonely wank on the sofa.

"Music?" I ask, as I turn again, my hands crossed in front of my chest to keep the dress up.

He startles into action and turns on the stereo in the corner. A guitar riff starts to play.

I slowly sway my hips from side to side. My movements match the pace of the music. All the while I my eyes on his.

He's as helpless as I was back home. Taking in the scene in front of him.

Frustratingly, I can't see just how much of an effect I'm having on him. Not with those jeans still on.

I point at the sofa.

"Why don't you take a seat. Get comfortable."

Once he's lowered himself onto the large couch, I turn and continue to dance slowly with my back turned towards him. I lower the dress and let it drop to the floor.

"Oh God," he says.

I smile and twirl around again, then take a few steps forward. "Like what you see?"

I don't even need an answer. It's written on his face. His hands have dug into the sofa cushions beside him so hard that his knuckles are turning white.

"Maybe you want to do more than watch?" I ask.

He's panting already.

When he tries to get up, I shake my head and place my foot against his belly, pushing him back down. I love how my stiletto heel digs into his flesh even through the cotton shirt.

He gasps for air.

Oh yes. This is what I want. I want to make him beg for it.

"Touch yourself for me," I instruct him, as I lift my foot off him again.

He's eager to obey and starts fumbling with his fly. His movements are clumsy; his hands are shaking.

Finally, he's successful and reaches inside his pants.

I drop my bra and cup my boobs with my hands. His eyes snap shut and he starts to jerk off in a rush. Although I have some idea of his staying power, my presence here might speed things along too much.

"You're not allowed to cum yet," I warn.

He looks up again and shifts uneasily in his seat, until he's leaning back more. Every breath and movement is amplified by his large body. He's got to weigh at least 500lbs, though he carries it well at his height.

I've never been with a man as big as him. Not by far. It's always just been a fantasy.

Tonight's the night.

"Show me what you've got," I say and nod down at his crotch.

"God, you're killing me," he groans. But then he pulls his dick out for me to see.

Although his crotch is somewhat obscured by his overhanging belly, his cock looks even bigger than in the videos. I can hardly contain my excitement, though I try to play it cool and continue to dance slowly to the music.

I tweak my own nipples, though they're already perked up and hard all by themselves. I don't know how long I can drag this on before either of us loses it.

"How long do you think you can last inside me?"

His fingers are already closing around his shaft as I ask the question. It looks like all his energy is channeled into stopping himself from taking things too far. He's incredibly close to losing that battle.

My panties have soaked through already. I reach down and feel the wet fabric with my fingertips.

"Do you want to find out?" I ask.

He swallows hard and nods.

"Then take your clothes off for me," I say.

He presses his lips together. His face has tensed up. I clearly remember his demeanour at the pub earlier. How uncomfortable he was with my stares. But this is a hard limit for me. I refuse to fuck him fully clothed like this. His videos promised an abundance of flesh. I want to see and feel it all.