Not Her Type


"No ... I haven't." he said slowly, giving her an appraising look.

"Then come here and have dinner with me." she gestured to the seat across from her. "My treat." she added firmly. "Let me thank you properly for helping me get home."

He hesitated for a moment, looking at her, and then glancing up at the sign over the restaurant window.

"What's wrong?" she pressed, not so sure what to think about his hestitation. "You don't like Thai food?"

"Actually, yes" he said, "I do like Thai food." He looked back down at her and smiled again, "And, yeah ... dinner would be nice." Much to her inordinately great relief he walked over and took the seat. "But," he said as he sat down, "there's really no need for you to buy me dinner."

"What's wrong with me saying 'thank you'?" Jasmin demanded.

"I didn't really do anything ..." he protested.

She sharply smacked the table. "Don't ever say that. You were wonderful and kind and there when I needed someone." She did not raise her voice and she still smiled, but there was real heat in her voice, and in her eyes. "That's something to me."

"Maybe your company alone would be more than enough." he said after a long silent moment of his eyes travelling slowly all over her face.

Jasmin found herself smiling widely at him, but she was not about to give up. She opened her mouth again ...

"Let's make a deal," he said. "I pay for your food, you pay for mine."

"You're not getting away that easily ..."

"You can get dessert."

"Still not enough." Jasmin insisted.

"Let's start with dessert." he said, with a touch of firmness and a suggestive arch of the eyebrow.

Jasmin abruptly felt a strange thrill race through her at that eyebrow lift. She found it remarkably sexy. How come she had seen him but never really 'seen' him before?

But before she could open her mouth to reply him just as firmly that she will be paying for dinner, including dessert, the waiter, having noticed the new addition to her table, arrived just then to ask if the gentleman was ready to order. Seizing the opportunity, the gentleman asked for chicken and prawns in spicy pepper and basil leaves.

"I'm Mark, by the way. Mark Archer." he said as the waiter left with his order, and instructions to bring their food to the table at the same time. He stretched out his hand, palm up, to her in what she always thought was a rather masculine gesture.

"Jasmin Marchand." Jasmin said, delicately placing her own hand in his outstretched palm - a complementary feminine gesture - and found herself keeping it there a moment longer than she intended. She squirmed a little in her seat, feeling the heat rising around her neck as she withdrew her hand. But she kept her eyes locked on his as she rested her chin in her other hand, elbow on the table. "So ... you're not a nice guy, Mr. Archer?" Her smile was playful.

And so, for the next hour and a half, they talked about everything and nothing in particular, only interrupted by the arrival of the food. She found out that Mark was an electrical engineer, who liked to tinker around and invent things. He found out that Jasmin was an architect who loved cooking whenever she had the chance. Jasmin discovered that he was an avid reader and a virtual encyclopedia of information on a wide range of subjects. Mark discovered that she enjoyed crosswords and had a PlayStationX that hardly saw a day of rest. Jasmin learned that he was pretty much on the Right when it came to politics. He learned that she was largely apolitical but had family members scattered around the political spectrum. They shared a common if small interest in photography and they found that their tastes were very similar in movies and music, though she was into Country & Western where he leaned more towards classic oldies like Frank Sinatra and old soul legends like Sam Cooke. He played basketball - not rugby as she had thought - to exercise, she went to dance class - quitting ballet did not mean she had quit dancing altogether.

Jasmin found herself enjoying a man's company in a way that she had not in a very long time, and she definitely was enjoying that frisson of sexual tension she had been fantasizing about just before he showed up. And yet she felt so comfortable she was not feeling any of the akwardness that she normally felt on a first outing with a man she found herself so attracted to. What was most surprising was that Mark was simply not her 'type' as she had known it to be.

"You're such a nerd!" she laughed after she dragged it out of him that he knew the name of every single monarch of England, knew the life stories of the most consequential monarchs of Europe in history and could facially recognize every President of the United States, living and dead.

"Guilty as charged." he admitted, somewhat embarassed, his smile just a little shy. Jasmin found it endearing. "It's just that I remember stuff I read." he added. His eyes suddenly locked on hers with a mischievous gleam. "And I've read somewhere that women like you are not supposed to be eating alone. Ever."

"What do you mean, women like me?" she asked, feeling flattered, and amused.

"Beautiful intelligent women with everything a man could want." He reached out and started to stroke her hand by her glass on the table, and his eyes began to travel up and down her body, all hint of the shyness that had been there just seconds before suddenly gone. "At least, that's from what I'm seeing now."

She felt herself flushing, and strangely, she started feeling something suspiciously like she was getting turned on. She licked her lips. "And what makes you think you'll see any more than what you're seeing now?"

He grinned as he continued to caress her hand with his fingers. "I have this ... feeling."

"I think," she said, smiling with lowered eyelashes, "you, actually, are a very bad boy."

"Why do I get the feeling you like that?"

"Someone should send you to your room." Jasmin thought she really should move her hand away from his stroking fingers - they were becoming very distracting. But she did not.

His smile widened slowly and as she watched, it took on a very different cast. "Sure. If I could take you with me."

Her breath caught and the heat spread down and moved from her face to her abdomen, and then lower still. She squirmed in her seat unconsciously and licked her lips before she stopped herself. "Really?" she asked, a little breathily. "And what would you do to me there?"

He licked his lips slowly, "What do you think I'd do to you there?"

An image of her, naked, her legs wrapped around his back and him pumping away inside her, exploded into her mind. She felt a warmth settle between her legs and her nipples slowly begin to harden inside her tube top. Another image; this time she was on top, frantically sliding up and down his shaft, her breasts cupped in his hands ...

Jasmin was squirming in her seat again, lips parted and staring at him. His smile was positively predatory as he openly undressed her with his eyes. "I don't know." she answered a moment after he arched an eyebrow at her silence, her voice still breathy. "Why don't you tell me?"

"I think you'd be a very," he continued to stroke her hand, "very bad girl."

Jasmin suddenly saw herself bent over on her hands and knees, with him behind her, his hands on her waist and his dick smoothly sliding in and out of her wet and swollen cunt. She nipples were completely hard now and her breathing had turned ragged, the circles his fingers were making on her hand scattering her thoughts before they could fully form. She saw herself again, straddled over his face, her breasts hanging free, his tongue licking and exploring her slit as she repeatedly took him into her mouth and stroked him with her tongue.

"I think," she said, licking her lips again, "I need to go to the little girls' room." That last came out in a rush.

He only grinned and nodded. "Sure."

Jasmin smiled shyly at him as she pushed her seat back and stood up. She kept her eyes on him as she walked to the door to the interior of the restaurant. Then as he watched her, she suddenly kissed at him, just before she went inside. Unbeknownst to her, as she had stood up, the hem of her shirt had risen up to her belly before it fell down to her thighs again. But not before Mark had seen how low her capris rode on her hips, and the lace of her French cut panties rising up to her waist. The sight of that expanse of bare skin and flesh had rendered him almost speechless. And the image of her full lips as she kissed at him ...

Jasmin entered the toilet stall and swiftly pulled her capris and panties down to her knees - her bladder really was full. But her mind was far away from relieving herself as she sat on the thankfully clean toilet seat. She peed and cleaned herself with a medicated wet wipe from the pack very thoughtfully bolted to the wall by the toilet roll. But she did not get up even after she flushed everything away. Images of Mark fucking her crashed into her mind no matter how hard she tried to push them aside. For a moment the image of what would have been happening now if she had dragged him into the toilet with her played in her mind's eye. He would be sitting on the toilet seat, she would be impaled on him, her shirt open and her tube top pulled down he could get at her breasts ...

Jasmin reached between her legs and touched herself with her finger, shuddering with a tiny moan of pleasure. She was wet. Sopping wet down to her inner thighs. Her body was preparing itself for sex no matter what she thought about it.

But she was not sleeping with him tonight, she firmly decided. Not on the first night. No matter how much she would welcome him burying himself inside her. And feeling his tongue on her breasts, his hands holding her waist and hips as he pumped in and out of her ...

Jasmin shook her head sharply.

She was only going to kiss him, at the most. A long and hot kiss. She would not think any further beyond that.

Mark turned to look at her when she stepped out of the door and began the walk to their table, somehow cleared of all plates and glasses while she was in the toilet. As she walked, her hips took on a sway that bordered on the scandalous, but she could not help herself; she wanted him to watch. She stroked his shoulder as she passed behind him and took her seat, smiling coquettishly.

"Miss me?" she asked.

"A little." he teased, getting a look of mock outrage from her.

He grinned and reached across the table pick up her hand in his. His fingers began to move in little circles and whorls on her skin and she sighed quietly in contentment, simply enjoying his touch.

"So ..." she said, eyelashes lowered "what are you planning on doing after dinner?"

"Think about you." His fingertips began to tickle her palm.

Jasmin's smile telegraphed her elation. "I'll be thinking about you too." she confessed. Her smile took on a more sensual cast as she raised her leg under the table to stroke along his in counterpoint to the movement of his fingers on her hand. She licked her lips as she watched his eyes flicker in surprise before they locked on hers from behind his glasses, one corner of his mouth turned up. She squirmed in her seat again, her body suddenly more sensitive. The heat between her legs slowly grew more intense, and after a full minute of silently touching each other, she began to let out a low inaudible moan of pleasure.

Just then, the waiter arrived with the bill on a tray. Or rather, two separate bills.

"I took the liberty of asking him to separate the bills when he came to clear the table. Remember," Mark said, wagging a finger at her, "you pay for mine, I pay for yours."

"That's not fair ..." she protested.

"Too late." he gloated, picking up a pen and the bill for her order, signing it, and putting a credit card on top.

Jasmin pouted, sulking, but she was quick enough to smack his hand away and snatch his bill out of the tray when he suddenly made to go for it. Frowning dramatically at him, she quickly signed, fished out a credit card from her wallet and handed it to the waiter, who promptly took the tray with the cards inside with his thanks and a small bow. He had just gone past the door when Jasmin remembered something. "You said I could get dessert!"

"You said you were stuffed, remember?" Mark shrugged, all innocence and yet managing to sound smug.

Jasmin felt thoroughly exasperated, but she laughed despite herself, amused at how deftly he had foiled her from paying for anything. A thought suddenly occured to her and she found herself blurting it out immediately. "I've got cake and ice cream at home." It was just after the words left her mouth that Jasmin realized that she was half-way to inviting him back to her home. Looking at him and achingly aware of the moist heat between her legs, she was suddenly aware of how very dangerous being alone with him could be.

She wondered how could look so ordinary, so not her type - yet she wanted him inside her in the worst way. But she was only going to kiss him, she told herself sternly, dismissing the image of two writhing naked bodies - one of the furiously humping bodies had a face just like hers - from her mind. Even if she invited him up, she was going to stop it at just kissing. She squirmed in her seat. Nothing more.

He was looking at her with one eyebrow raised, questioning.

She could not, and for that matter, she did not want to, turn back. "If you won't even let me buy you dessert, let me at least make it for you." Unconsciously she licked her lips. "And I'm not taking no for an answer." She added.

He grinned with just a hint of the predatory gleam she had seen earlier in his eyes. "No objections."

She was not going to let him eat her pussy on the couch or take her doggy-style on the coffee table ... and she certainly was not going to give him a blowjob! She was only going to kiss him, she reminded herself. They were only going to sit on the couch, have some cake and ice cream and kiss for a while. Jasmin took a deep breath - her cunny was beginning to feel as if it was on fire.

"Great!" Jasmin said happily. But then, she abruptly raised a finger to announce another decision, wagging it at him in admonishment as she spoke. "But next time, it'll be my treat, starters, dinner, dessert, the whole nine yards. And I'm not taking no for an answer this time either."

Mark threw his hands up in mock surrender. "Yes ma'am. You win. I give up."

Jasmin laughed, "Good. Very good."

The waiter came back and handed them their credit cards and receipts, and left with another bow and a quiet murmur of thanks in Thai.

"Time to go?" Mark asked as he slipped his card back into his wallet.

Jasmin looked at her watch - tomorrow may be Friday, but it was still a workday. "Yeah, I think so."

"Okay," Mark said "let's go."

They were a few minutes away from the restaurant, and past the busiest part of the High Street, strolling and chatting casually, when Mark confidently reached out to hold her hand. Jasmin fell silent in the middle of the story she was telling, startled, then she looked up at him, her smile a little hesitant, but her fingers smoothly interlocked with his.

Mark suddenly stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and pulled her to him. Jasmin barely had time to understand what he wanted to do before his mouth descended on hers. Jasmin instinctively opened her mouth for his tongue and threw her arms around his neck as she felt his hands settle on her waist and pull her harder up against him. Jasmin's toes curled, her knees going weak as his tongue licked against hers and he sucked on her lips. She felt his manhood begin to thicken and swell against her belly and she began to moan against his mouth. She started licking back at his tongue and sucking his lips into her mouth.

Her nipples had lost some of their turgidity but now they swole and hardened, pointing sharply to their full extended inch through the lycra of her tube top and her thin cotton shirt. They often caused her some embarassment when it was cold and she was always careful to wear a padded bra when she was going on a date so they would not betray her when the man was getting it right. But this time she wanted Mark to see and feel their pebble hardness as she pressed them to his chest. In the back of her mind, she realized that his hands were stroking her bare waist under the hem of her shirt - he had discovered just how low her pants were on her hips.

He deepened the kiss, practically lifting her off her feet, and the all too familiar image of her, legs spread around his thrusting hips entered her mind and refused to leave. Her whole body began to tingle, her pussy on fire and leaking cum to soak her panties.

She was breathless when he put her back down and broke the kiss. She opened her eyes and stared up at him, wonderingly. It was the perfect first kiss - intimate and wildly erotic. She normally would have been embarassed to have people around seeing her being so manhandled in the open but she quite simply did not care right at the moment.

But she was still only going to kiss him ... she was not going to sit on him, his mouth licking at her titties as she rode his dick. No matter how good a kisser he was.

He still held her waist under her shirt, and she still had her arms around his neck and they held each other silently for a moment, smiles on both their faces, then he lifted a hand and began to stroke her face, fingers trailing from her forehead along her hairline and down one cheek to her chin. Jasmin closed her eyes again, moaning low in her throat. Her tongue darted out to lick his fingers as he traced the outline of her parted full lips.

"I've wanted to do that since I first saw you on that bus." he said, quietly.

Jasmin's eyes popped open but she closed her eyes as he kissed her again, much more softly this time, but still enough to have her breathing hard when he raised his lips from hers. "What?" she asked, when she got her breath back.

"I've wanted to kiss you the very first day I saw you on the bus." he smiled. "But I don't think you noticed me."

Jasmin was stunned. "But I did notice you." she said, defensive, and knowing even as the words left her mouth that it was a lie. She had seen him but she definitely had not 'noticed' him. And just because she had not noticed him did not mean that he had not noticed her that way. She suddenly felt ashamed.

He smiled, eyebrows arched, still tracing the outline of her lips with his fingers. "No, you didn't."

Swiftly, she pulled his head down and kissed him, uncaring of anyone watching. She plunged her tongue into his mouth, exploring and sucking on his lips as hard as she could. She pressed and rubbed her breasts against him, shuddering at the friction on her sensitive nipples. She kissed him until she heard him growl, his dick a mass of turgid flesh against her belly. Her pussy seemed to contract.

"I've noticed you now." she said when she broke the kiss and stared up into his eyes. The heat in her own eyes told him plainly that it didn't matter that it had taken a near accident. She had noticed him - that was all that mattered. "But I have to tell you something."


"I'm not ready for anything serious."

Something flickered behind his eyes but he smiled at her. "So I can't kiss you like that ever again?"

Jasmin definitely did not want to put a halt to kisses like that. "No ... you can kiss me like that again."

His smile suddenly took on a different cast, turning him from teddy bear to vicious predator in the blink of an eye. Jasmin found it oddly exciting "So ...?"

"I just got out of something ..." Jasmin licked her lips nervously. "And I just don't want anything serious right now."

"So where do we go from here? Cause I'd like to see you again." he said quietly, after looking at her for a moment. "And I'd really like to kiss you again."

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byhotknight© 74 comments/ 747740 views/ 779 favorites

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