Chapter Two
I found the next week dragging terribly. I was between semesters at school and my xBox, Frisbee golf, and even darts could only use up so much time. I waited as patiently as I could, but by Tuesday I lost the battle and called her.
It wasn't much of a conversation really. She agreed to go to dinner with me and I picked her up about thirty minutes later.
Once again the dinner was a joy. I had never felt this comfortable with a woman. We even started joking about the difference in our ages and I took that as a good sign in what I hoped would be a long-term relationship.
When I asked about a drink later she declined.
"Sorry Davey," and I noted the subtle pet name, "but I do have a meeting tomorrow and I have to be at the top of my game."
So I took her home, with the top down again, and at the door waited until she gave me one of those light, not-quite-peck-not-quite-invitation kisses.
I called again Thursday, but I didn't push for another date.
Friday came at last and I picked up another of those little bouquets on the way to her house.
Her grin was bright when she saw me standing there, like an old rerun of Leave it to Beaver, with my little bouquet held out.
"Come in," she said, taking the flowers and heading for the kitchen.
With the flowers safely in a vase, we headed out. This time it was Chinese food for dinner and the movie was "John Carter of Mars" at a little second-run theater downtown. I was again transported to my teenage years as I casually (anyway I hoped it was casual) laid my arm across the back of her seat and let my hand touch her shoulder. She turned to look at me, smiled, and returned her attention to the screen. She did lean toward me a little.
Afterward, we went to a small local tavern, shared beers, and discussed the movie. We were both action/adventure movie junkies and agreed that "Fast and Furious" was possibly the best movie ever made. A couple of beers and there it was, not yet midnight when she smiled and said "take me home please."
As usual, we sang along with the oldies on the way home, the top down and I suppose drawing looks from the Friday night cruisers.
I walked her to her door and she put the key in. Then she turned to me with that cute mouth-pulled-to-the-side look.
"Okay buster," she said, giving me the one-eyebrow treatment, "are you going to make me kiss you again, or are you finally going to do it yourself?"
That was all the invitation I needed.
She felt good in my arms. Her lips, thin in appearance were soft in contact and fit mine, and our noses knew automatically where to go. I found the feeling of her slender body under my hand to be absolutely wonderful. In part, it was so different from what I normally sought that the simple uniqueness of the experience was part of the excitement. But mostly it was her.
And she was passionate. Her hands were pulling me to her, and her breath catching. That soft little moan/whimper/hum sound only a woman can make was soft in my ear.
When I started unbuttoning her blouse she suddenly stiffened and pulled away.
"Wait baby," she said, and took my hand leading me down the hall to her bedroom.
In the bedroom she closed the door and turned out the light, leaving us in almost perfect darkness.
She turned on a small nightlight in the bathroom, giving us just enough light so that we wouldn't be stumbling over each other and the furniture, and then she was back in my arms.
We were both a little breathless as our fingers worked on buttons and our mouths found each other. When she nuzzled my neck and then nipped I yelped, drawing a little giggle from her. Then, with her top three buttons undone I pulled her blouse down, pinning her arms, and began sucking on her neck, deliberately planting a hickey. She squealed and tried to squirm away but the leverage was all mine and I kept at it until I was sure she would be marked clearly.
As soon as I released her she grabbed me and spun me, making it obvious that she had spent some time in a karate dojo and understood the leverage. I found myself flat on my back on the bed with her straddling me, her fingers busy at my belt. I didn't fight for my virtue but, rather, I reached up and finished unbuttoning her blouse.
When she started working my slacks down I lifted my hips as well as I could, helping her. As soon as she got my pants down far enough to expose my erection she lifted just enough to push her panties aside and settled onto me, taking me into her.
She froze in that position, impaled, and I thought maybe I had hurt her somehow. Her womanscent was strong, her pheromones affecting me on an instinctive level, and it was all I could do to hold still at that moment.
"Oh God Davey," she whispered, "it's been so long."
I could hear the tears in her voice and I reached up, found her hands in the dark, and gently pulled her down until she was laying cheek to cheek with me. It was an awkward feeling, both of us still dressed and me inside of her past her panties which were just pushed aside.
I held her, lightly stroking her hair. I could feel her tears on my cheek and the soft jerking of her body as she cried. I didn't say anything, just held her, finding the sensation oddly intimate.