A man I'm only slightly acquainted with invites me out to dinner. He's not handsome, buy normal standards. But he has an almost dark sensuality that excites me. During the course of dinner, I sometimes find him looking at me when he thinks I don't see, and there's an intensity in his very dark eyes that makes me feel weak and nervous, and I don't quite know why. He's quiet, his voice is low and smooth. You can tell that he needs to shave every day, because his face is already showing signs of a shadow. The hair on his head is dark, but very short..growing back after being shaved off for the summer.
He has nice hands. Long fingers. Clean nails. I like to watch him cut his steak, his movements are so precise. But it's mostly watching his lips part as he lifts his fork to his mouth to eat....I like his mouth most of all and wonder what it would feel like on mine. Or on my neck and breast and nipple. Sometimes it seems he must know what I'm thinking because he'll look at me and his eyes briefly lower to my breasts, but they don't linger there. It's almost as though he's seen them before and he's content to wait to see them again. There's no hurry in his movements, and that just makes me feel impatient. I even begin to worry that he finds me boring and won't want to touch me with those hands of his, or his mouth. He seldom smiles.
And then dinner is over and we drive back to his house. We walk to the door in silence, his hand on the small of my back. And just as we reach the front door, he stops me with a gentle touch on my arm. For the first time, he seems a little unsure of himself, and then he reaches inside his jacket, and from an inner pocket, he pulls a long silk scarf. I wait, but he doesn't speak at first. He just pulls the scarf through his fingers over and over again. And then, very quietly, he tells me that he would never hurt me. He tells me that there's nothing inside his house that can hurt me. But if I want to go home, he'll take me now. No hard feelings.
But if I stay, he says, looking hard into my eyes, it will be a night I won't ever forget...and that he will give me more pleasure than I ever thought possible. He warns me that once inside the house, I can't change my mind and leave until morning. The decision is mine completely, but I have to commit to it. And I watch his hands on the scarf, pulling it through his fingers, and wonder what it will be like to spend the night here. And in the end, I nod my head once and whisper to him that I'll stay.
He turns my back to him and ties the scarf over my eyes, and tells me one last time that there is nothing in the house that can hurt me. With that, I hear him turn the doorknob, push open the door and usher me inside.
He takes my purse and places it, I think, on a table beside the door. Using his hands to stay in contact with me, he reaches down my body until he comes to my shoes, and pulls them off my feet. My heart is racing in my chest. I'm both excited and frightened. I feel his fingers...those beautiful long fingers....unbuttoning my blouse and slowly easing it off my shoulders. I can sense him moving behind me, working at the button and zipper of my skirt, and then like a whisper I feel it fall to the floor. Next is my bra...he has it unhooked and off my shoulders almost before I know what he's doing, and I feel a rush of cool air on my skin and feel my nipples harden and rise. My instinct is to cover my naked breasts with my arms, but he says "don't," and I obey. And then off come my stockings...one at a time...and finally, with the gentlest of movements, he removes my panties. I think I feel his lips or his breath against the flesh of my ass, but it is so light I can't be sure.