A Date with a Handsome Gree

"You seriously want to hear about my 'darkest, most secret' fantasy on our second date?" I ask incredulously, indicating the quotation marks with my fingers. From across the table, Sam's mischievous brown eyes hold my gaze and a distracting smile breaks through a dark beard a few days old. His slender hands are lightly folded in front of him on the table between us, circling an empty beer glass. He is looking at me like he wants to set me on fire with his gaze.

"I do," he says nonchalantly.

I blush, despite my best efforts to be mysterious and sexy.

Truthfully, I don't know why I'm surprised. When we were chatting, first on Tinder and then later private texting, Sam charmingly smooth-talked his way right through all my reservations and inhibitions, without being a prick. He seemed to know exactly what to say to make my knees buckle without even physically being with me. All very vanilla and normal, though. Our first date was good - mid-morning coffee in a very public place - and we clicked immediately. We both confirmed that we're just looking for some fun, nothing serious or committed. I was fresh out of a relationship and needed to "reset" my vibe, so to speak. We made small talk and kept the topics innocent, but in spite of that, at the end of the date it was undeniable: I was in lust.

Sam asked for a second date the very next day, and of course I agreed. I wanted him so badly... It's a slightly scary thought (I was brought up to be much more "wholesome" and reserved), but I can't deny that I enjoy it.

Especially because my recently-turned-ex boyfriend was so damn un-sexy. He wasn't unattractive and he definitely wasn't useless in bed, but the last few months were average, boring. Sam seems to be the ideal remedy for that.

Now that we're sitting opposite each other - in a corner, thank god, because our conversation has turned, inevitably, to sex - I feel like an inexperienced newbie to the dating scene. I think I've forgotten how to flirt. We've done the small-talk thing again before we ordered and finally moved past that into comfortable conversation throughout dinner. Then we started playing twenty questions (his idea) over dessert, which resulted in, well, this.

Everyone seems relaxed, but at our table, sexual tension is suddenly buzzing through the air. I think I can actually feel the vibrations; I'm getting goosebumps. I smile, drop my gaze and stare into my wine glass, trying to calm my nerves.

"Come on, tell me," he urges.

I look up again into those brown eyes.

Sparks fly between us instantly. Butterflies come alive in my belly, I shift on my chair, and I take a very obvious deep breath. This man does something to my heartbeat and my insides. It feels as if he can read my every thought. I feel exposed and naked and vulnerable under his gaze, even though I'm wearing my usual winter date attire: fitted skinny jeans, calf-length boots, wool jersey, scarf.

I am turned on; more than I've been in almost a year.

Then I start to laugh. This is so bizarre and my nerves are shot. I always laugh in stressful situations. It's ridiculous. I cover my face with my hands to hide my embarrassment. Sam sounds amused when he asks if I'm alright.

I lower my hands. Still smiling but not looking at him, I pick up my glass.

"I'm fine, I'm fine! I'm just... uncharacteristically nervous. This whole situation is unreal."

I manage to turn my eyes towards him again.

He's still smiling, and I shake my head before taking a sip of my wine. How can he be so unruffled about this?

He takes hold of my wrists with both his hands when I set my glass down, and squeeze them gently.

"You're incredibly sexy," he says matter-of-factly as he looks me in the eye. "Relax."

My eyes search his for god knows what. Reassurance? Calm? I sigh again, and then nod.

"OK. It's fine, I'm alright now."

He lets go of my wrists, leans back in his chair and folds his arms across his chest.

"Good. So, do I have to ask a third time or are you going to tell me?"

"It's not quite as normal as some people would hope, though," I try to prepare him. I fold my arms on the table.

"So? Come on, please?"

I shake my head slightly before relenting. "Okay. I, uhm, I want to be tied up. Not in seriously tight ropes or chains or anything," I add quickly, "just enough to make me feel like I can't move."

Sam's eyes never leave my face.

"And then I want to... well..." I break off. I'm more embarrassed for sounding like an idiot than I am for what I'm about to tell him.

Taking a deep breath for what feels like the millionth time that evening, I tuck my hair behind my ear, look in his eyes and let the words tumble out before I can overthink it.

"I want to be dominated. Without any pain or humiliation or weird stuff, though. I just want to, you know, give up control and not be able to do anything except... surrender to whoever I'm with."

I shrug and he doesn't say anything.

The silence hangs between us like a rickety suspension bridge. I search his face for any sign that he's going to be the one who bursts out laughing this time, or for any sign that he might think I'm a freak.

Instead, all I see is lust. Pure lust brightening his eyes, creeping into his smile and finally permeating the air between us when he says in a low, soft voice, "I can do that. I want to."

I forget to breathe. I just stare at him, at his face, his lips.

Then I raise my eyebrows at him and smile lightly, skeptically.

"Shall we go?" he suggests, ignoring my expression.

"Wait, what? Right now?" I ask incredulously.

"Yes. Or are you scared?" A naughty, slightly arrogant smile plays on his lips.

"I'm not scared," I answer defiantly and reach for my handbag.

He smiles and then signals for the waiter to bring our bill. I try to pull myself together by downing the last of my wine in one big gulp. Liquid courage. I pull out my purse but Sam waves in dismissal, and I thank him as he pays for both of us.

I'm quiet when he gets up and holds his hand out to me. I take it and he playfully pulls me up. He's about a head taller than me. Tall, dark and incredibly handsome; a real Greek god. His grip is warm and firm around my hand.

"Your place or mine?" he asks the moment we're out of the restaurant.

"Yours, you said earlier that it's closer."

We quickly walk to his car. He struggles to pull his car keys from his pocket, then leads me around and opens the passenger door for me. I somehow manage a gracious sit-down and he slams the door shut just a tad too hard.

Before I know it, we're in front of a security complex gate. He tags in, parks in front of a garage a few hundred metres further, and leans over me to open the passenger door. It clicks open but he doesn't move back. Instead, he puts his right hand on my leg, grabs my face with his left hand, and kisses me deeply before pulling away and locking eyes with me. My head is swimming.

"Let's go," he says hoarsely before turning away and getting out of the car.

Suddenly, my heart is hammering in my chest and my joints feel like jelly. This is it; I'm doing this!

I get out and follow him to his front door. He stands aside to let me walk in first. I enter into a decently-sized, cozy lounge and place my handbag on the couch. When I turn, he's right next to me, hands already reaching for my hips, roughly pulling me closer to him.

My hands are shaking. I snake my arms around his neck to hide it from him, then stand on my toes to kiss him.

He responds immediately. He tastes like beer and mint. A soft groan, barely audible, escapes from his mouth into mine, and it descends all the way to the pit of my stomach. There it turns into butterflies. And tension. And a weird, quivering feeling of need.

Then Sam pulls away. Disappointed, I take a small step backward so that there's some distance between us, but his hands are still on my hips.

He takes my hand again, turns around without a word and pulls me after him, down the short passage and through the door on the left. My step falters and I pause. He looks puzzled when he turns around, not letting my hand go.

"Are you alright?" he asks.

I look around the room, smelling his cologne and taking in small details: the red mug on his desk next to his laptop, the three bead bracelets on his bedside table, gym clothes over the back of the chair.

"Yeah, I... I just don't know how to..." I can't find the words. I look at him, suddenly feeling uncertain.

He cups my face in his hands.

"Don't overthink this. Just go with it." Then he kisses me again, passionately, deeply. I sigh and it's as if something inside of me is set free. I lean into him, hold onto his arms and kiss him back with equal passion.

He walks backwards towards his bed, still kissing me, and I follow. He lies down on his back and pulls me down so that I straddle him. His hands move to my hips again and slip under my shirt. His fingers dig into me as he grips my body and I kiss him as though I'm starved for his taste. My fingers entwine in the almost-black curls on his head, then my hands are on his shoulders, stroking his neck, cradling his face.

Without warning, he lifts himself slightly and I grab his shoulders to keep myself from losing my balance. In one fluid movement - how does he manage that?! - he rolls over and pins me beneath him. Still kissing me, his hands slide over my arms, slowly guiding them upwards to stretch out above my head. With one hand holding my arms in place, the other lifts the hem of my jersey and my top. He traces the top of my jeans with his fingers, and I squirm against him.

He lifts his head and his eyes roam over my upper body.

"Keep your hands there," he tells me.

I nod, my voice suddenly gone.

He loosens my scarf and pulls it out from under my neck before lifting himself off me.

"Scoot up, please?"

I do as he asks, putting my hands on his arms to pull him closer. He shakes his head and smiles.

"Nope. Give me your hands."

I hold out my hands to him and he brings them together. My heart beats faster as I realise what he's up to. Then he ties my scarf loosely around my hands. I can't speak. I inhale deeply and he suddenly looks worried. His hands still around mine and he lowers our hands onto my belly.

"Emily, are you really okay? Are you sure you want to do this?"

"I am, I promise. It's just... well, I'm a little nervous!" I smile shyly.

"I understand. Take a deep breath."

Still smiling slightly, I do as he says, and exhale slowly.

"Another one."

I obey.

"Better?" he asks.

I nod once more.

"Okay. Raise your hands above your head. I'm going to tie them to my headboard. But if you feel uncomfortable at any time, tell me and I'll untie you."

"Be gentle, please?" I ask softly, all my defiant bravado suddenly gone. I look into his eyes and I'm momentarily lost in their chocolate depths.

"Of course, Em." He smiles and I relax a little, forgiving him for shortening my name like that.

I raise my arms and I feel him securing my hands to the headboard.

"Now..." He takes off my boots, then unhooks the buttons on my jeans and slowly, teasingly pulls them off me. I watch how the muscles in his arms move. Then he kisses his way back up my legs, over my hips, across my belly and into my neck. I moan with delight.

Kneeling between my legs, he slides his hands under my shoulders and unclips my bra before pulling it up so that it dangles between my tied hands. His shirt goes next, followed by the last of my underwear and then his boxers and jeans, too.

In his full, naked glory, he is even sexier than I imagined. His body is toned but not too muscular, a little sprinkling of hair where it should be, and a perfect South African T-shirt tan.

He's already hard.

I involuntarily lick my lips as he very deliberately leans over me to reach for the drawer in his bedside table. He feels around for something, finds it, leans back. My gaze follows his hands as he rolls on a condom. Then he leans forward over me, lightly kissing his way over my body to my mouth, his hands softly exploring until they come to rest on either side of my head. I try to deepen the kiss, but he pulls back. I can feel his erection pressing into my stomach. I long to touch it, but the only thing I can do is to flex my hands.

He laughs softly and shifts off of me before kissing me again, steadying himself with one hand next to my head. His leg is draped over mine, pinning me down. His kiss becomes a bit more urgent and with his other hand, he grabs one of my breasts. I moan again, which seems to be his cue to start squeezing and pinching my nipple, never letting up on kissing me. I cry out into his mouth - he unknowingly aimed for the more sensitive breast. It's surprisingly painful but torturously brilliant at the same time.

All too soon, he stops, then slowly traces my body with light touches, steadily moving downwards. Over my hip, down the outside of my leg, up the inside of my thigh, until it lightly comes to rest against my mound.

Sam teases me with oh-so-slight slips of his fingers through my folds.

I try to lift my body up to increase the pressure, but his leg presses down harder on mine and holds me in place. He laughs lightly and kisses me again.

"Oh, no, babe, you wanted to hand over control, now you've got to let me take it."

I sigh and smile at him before easing back into the bed.

He smiles back naughtily, then continues his teasing strokes. Suddenly, he rolls on top of me, his cock between us, pushing down on me with his body weight.

The hair on his chest tickles my breasts.

Then he slides down, kissing my neck, my breasts, across my belly, in a reverse path from earlier. He kisses around my hips. Frustrated, I lift my body up to try to get him to just put his mouth on me. But he pulls away and pushes me back down, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

I close my eyes and sigh, and after a moment in which I wonder where he is, his mouth is on me, right where I need it, warm and soft and wet. His tongue teases me; he alternates soft, long strokes with short, hard ones, occasionally nipping me with his teeth, or dipping his tongue inside me. It's exquisite, the pleasure is pulsing through me in waves with every stroke of his tongue, and I cry out when one particular stroke almost sends me over the edge.

I realise that I'm squirming again and I try to relax. He must feel it, because he slows down and then teasingly nibbles on the insides of my thighs before sitting up. I look into his beautiful eyes as he moves over me, and the naughty glint in them makes me giggle.

I can feel him fiddling with something between us, but keep eye contact with him.

He arches his brow in a silent request to continue and I nod in response.

And then, without saying anything, he starts to slowly push into me. I call out again, overwhelmed by the feel of him entering me, the warmth of his breath against my cheek and the smell of his cologne enveloping me.

He is big. It feels never-ending.

Finally, with a small thrust, he's all in. It feels amazing. Full. Warm. Comfortable.

He starts to thrust and I rise to meet him, but he pushes me down again. "No," he says roughly. His voice takes me by surprise. He pulls himself from me and grabs my thighs.

"Turn over, get on your knees and hold onto the headboard," he commands. It sends delicious shivers up my spine.

He helps me to flip over. I feel his hands on my hips and moments later, he enters me again in one, long thrust. My breath catches in my throat and I wish he'd move again.

He does, and soon settles in a steady, fast rhythm. My body clenches around his cock and I'm pushing back onto him. He moves my hair over my shoulder and the intimacy of the gesture rushes through me. I grip the headboard.

Before long, I feel myself getting close, but I need something more. I need a hand on my breast, or better yet, on the most sensitive point of my body.

"Please... hand... clit..." I manage between thrusts. He understands, puts his arm around me from behind and finds my centre. His touch is teasingly light again, and I moan.

"Harder," I manage. He presses onto me a little harder, all the while still moving rhythmically in and out of me.

My legs start to shake and my breathing comes in short gasps. I'm so close!

"Wait, Em, hold it," he commands.

I try to think of something else, anything, but the sensations are just too much.

"I can't!" I cry as I make a sound almost like a hiccup.

The pressure on my clit increases. As he leans down to kiss my back, the angle changes as well. Suddenly he's so far inside me, so deep... I involuntarily clench around him and he's stroking me from behind and below, and then I hear him whisper right by my ear, "Let go, Emily. Come for me."

It's my undoing.

I throw my head back, squeeze my eyes shut and cry out as my climax pulses through me. He's holding me upright; my legs are shaking and my arms feel numb. Seconds later, I feel him become rigid behind me. His fingers dig into my skin where he's still grasping onto me and I can feel him shaking and slamming against me as his orgasm crashes over him. My breath catches in my throat and I come again, squeezing around him and wishing it would never end.

Then he slows, steadily, until he comes to rest deep inside me. Breathless, I drop my head onto the pillows below me and I feel him leaning forward, resting his head and torso on my back, hands still around me, holding me close.

A minute or so later, he reaches over my back and head to untie my hands. He gently pulls himself out of me, and I gasp again when he slips out.

While he cleans himself up, I flop over onto my back and put my arms over my face. Suddenly, I'm exhausted and feeling shy.

When he returns, still naked, he lies down next to me and pulls my arms from my face. I open my eyes.

"Hi," he says softly.

"That was... incredible," I whisper, and he kisses me deeply. I don't even care that I can taste myself on his lips.

"Come shower with me?" he asks.

In his car afterwards, on our way back to where my car is parked, he looks sideways at me.

"Are you okay, babe?" he asks.

I smile. "Perfectly fine. Tired, but fine."

"Good. We'll do this again soon." He winks.

"We'll have to," I reply, smiling and reaching over to put my hand on his thigh. "I have more fantasies..."

* * *

This is my first submission and I really hope you enjoyed it. Sam is loosely based on someone I know, although the rest of the story is pure fiction. But I might publish something "based on true events" soon...

Please vote & tell me what you think!

-NL