A collaboration with Master Jewelcrafter.
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My hands are shaking and I have to grip the steering wheel tightly as I drive to your place. I have never been quite this nervous in my life. We have been talking for a long while. We have even been on a few dates; coffee at first, then dinner and a movie, even that one night at that BDSM club. We've always clicked. Even the first time we met there was just this connection there. After coffee that first night I knew you would be the one I submit to.
I am not nervous about that though. I never have been. I knew all along what I was getting into and what our talks and dates would lead to. I am nervous because tonight is the night. We decided at our date last week that we were both ready to take the next step. I was eager to say yes, and though I saw the famous grin of yours playing at your lips, you cautioned me. I did not take your warning lightly. I knew that once we crossed this bridge there would be no going back. It really did scare me. The thought that I may lose one of the best connections I've ever had, but I knew that to get the life I've always wanted I had to take this risk. So, after taking the few days you required for me to "really think about it", I texted you a resounding yes.
I wasn't sure what to expect and my heart skipped a beat when you replied with just your address and time. A few minutes later you told me to dress comfortably and as I normally would. Somehow this had me in even more of a panic. I decided on something simple. As I pull into your driveway, I start to second guess every decision I have made so far.
I stand at your front door, still nervous and shaking slightly. I try to take a few deep breaths to calm myself. I mentally go through everything I have done to make certain I please you. I make sure to straighten out my clothes after the ride and run my hands over my light brown hair to make sure the oil I use to keep the frizz down is still working. Today is an important day for us, so I decided to do something you haven't seen yet. I straightened my hair. Usually, I leave it the way it naturally dries; curly and resting just past my shoulders. Today with no curl, it lands on the top of my breasts.
I gather it up and push it to the side slightly. I try to make sure it doesn't cover up my chest too much. I put a lot of thought into the perfect sweater. The black V-neck was not the first thing I tried on or the last, but I am glad I settled on it. It does a nice job of highlighting my breasts and they almost seem to be poking out the top, ready to spill out. The bra I have on helps with this and it gives me a nice and slightly wide cleavage. I paired this shirt with my "good butt jeans". They are not too tight, but they do a nice job of showing off my long legs and squeeze my ass and hips in all the right places.
Another deep breath and then I ring the doorbell. Waiting for you to answer, my mind can't help but run wild as I look myself over in the reflection of the tempered glass window on the door. I am happy with the hourglass-shaped figure I have, and I think my choices do my body justice. As I wait for what seems like an eternity, I start biting my lip. Should I have put makeup on? I don't usually, except for the few occasions you have told me to, but I wonder if you will think this is a lack of effort on my part. In all honesty, I wanted to display the real me, but now I am left worrying. The fact that I still have my lip between my teeth is probably the only sign I need to know I have made the right choice. I have always had the nervous habit, and if I would have had makeup on, my teeth would be covered in red lipstick.
***
I approach the door and see you standing on the other side. I am tempted to just stare at you and make you wait, but I only hesitate for a moment, looking you up and down. I don't spend much time admiring you. I know how nervous you get, which makes me wonder how well, you will take tonight. I am going to push you to your limit, maybe a little past it, but I have confidence you can endure it. I notice the outfit you picked out. I am quite pleased that even though you picked something comfortable to you, you still seemed to put a lot of thought into how you would present yourself to me. I can't help but smirk as I answer the door.
I invite you in by taking your hand and kissing its back. "Welcome." I keep an eye on you as I close the door behind you and wait to see what you will do. I notice the blush on your cheeks and watch as you take your flip-flops off and push them neatly into a corner. I told you to bring house shoes or slippers of some sort, not that you would have them on for long, but I wanted you to feel at ease. I should have known though that you would show up without them. "I hate shoes," you once told me over drinks as we waited for our appetizers to come. "If I could go everywhere barefoot I would."
I watch you a little longer and know, even though this is your first time here, you are too shy and timid in nature to venture in without me, so I give your hand a little squeeze, "This way, baby."
I lead you through the foyer slowly, letting you take everything in. Since it is your first time, I know you will want to see every detail from the hardwood floor to the dark mahogany tables that are more for decoration than practical use. I pull you along slowly as we head into the living room. I give you more time here to look around. You notice I have a few pieces from various conventions, but there are not too many videogame characters that you can see. Your attention seems especially taken with some of the abstract paintings I have hanging on the wall.
I wait for you to continue your tour and let you stare at the cabinet for a few minutes. There are many glass figures, nick-nacks, and trinkets inside, all with a story of their own. If you were to examine each and ask your questions, we would spend the night talking about my "nerdism", as you call it, instead of getting down to business, so I clear my throat to get your attention before you have that opportunity.
"Have a seat," I smile and gesture to the couch. I know you are still very curious, but there will be plenty of time for that later. "Do you prefer red or white wine?" I can't help but grin as I see the blush return to your cheeks. I know the answer. In fact, I know most of your food and drink preferences, but I want to hear you tell me.
***
I stare at the couch, my mind and my nerves causing my anxiety to spike. I wrestle with my mind to make a choice on where to sit. Finally, I decide on sitting as close to where you indicated as possible. And then I reply to your question. "Red please, chilled or with ice if possible." I know you like to tease me about this. I remember you laughing at me playfully the first time you ordered it for me at that steak place we went to before a movie one night. "Red is supposed to be warm, you know." But you winked at me and made sure the waitress chilled the glass instead of watering it down with ice.
"Chilled it is," you reply. I know this means that you had a bottle in the fridge for me. You don't usually store your red wine in the fridge.
I watch as you disappear into the kitchen and continue looking around from my spot on the sofa. I can barely see the entryway to the kitchen where I sit, and as I look down the hallway I notice a few more doors but they are all closed from what I can tell. Looking around the living room, more of your personality becomes quite clear. I can make out a few things in the cabinet, and I look over the multiple gaming consoles hooked up to the TV. It is quite an impressive collection. I see some older systems like the NES and the SNES, and their new "Classic" counterparts sit beside them. But there are newer systems too, a PlayStation that looks sleek and new, along with a Switch, and an Xbox that is black and green. I know nothing about gaming, but I am still impressed.