I wasn't overly sure where to start. Talking, that is. I hate blind dates, and now here I was sitting across the table from this incredibly beautiful woman, and had no idea what to say. A thousand things ran through my head, most so trivial and job related, that she would not find it to be stimulating conversation.
"So, shat kind of mood are you in tonight?" she asked me.
"Ummm..." I started, not sure how to answer her, "a good mood I guess." My lame finish brought a smile to her face.
"Actually, I meant are you feeling passive or aggressive. That is OK, I understand, you don't know me, and I don't know you, so we don't have any real common ground to start from. I guess I can start somewhere though, do you find me attractive, I mean do you want to have sex with me tonight?"
Damn, talk about grabbing me by the nuts to get my attention! "Well, yes I find you attractive, and please do not think me too forward to say that I can not think of a finer way to finish off the evening that in your arms." I hoped that answering her directly like that would not scare her away.
I should pause for a moment here to let you know that I am not desperate for sex, I am just one of those guys who does not worry about it that much, never have, and probably never will. I get some now and then, but otherwise, I have my work to keep me busy. Picture this if you can, a six foot tall, two-hundred fifty pound, mostly muscle thanks to daily trips to the gym, computer geek. People tell me that I am attractive, but I never really thought about it.
Now, this woman is hinting that she might be offering me something more than just some lame dinner conversation and a peck on the cheek.
This all started when my roomie told me that his girlfriend's sister was moving to town, and wanted to get out to meet people. I laughed and reminded him of the last disaster of a blind date that the two of them tried to set me up on, she was talking marriage as soon as I introduced myself, and it took three months and a restraining order to finally get her out of my hair.
He promised me that this was not a girl like that, "She is even into computers, I guess she took a local job running some company's network or something," he told me.
I reluctantly agreed, dug out my shirt and tie to match the faded khakis that I had, and went out to a nice Italian restaurant with my roomie and his girlfriend and her sister.
Back to the present.
"I am not trying to put you on the spot," she said, "just trying to get some conversation going."
We spent the next hour and a half discussing computers, networks, and finally, the internet and some of the adult content that is there.
"I can't believe some of the stuff that is out there," she said to me.
"I know, there will always be someone who is trying to out-sick someone else. I don't understand it, but I just go about my business, and leave that strange stuff alone," I replied.
We made it through dessert and coffee, and then my roomie leaned over to me and whispered, "Hey man, do you mind if she stays at our place tonight so Stasha and I can have her place to ourselves?"
"I guess so, as long as she doesn't mind the couch or your bed," I replied.
So when we left, Nancy rode with me, and Mike went with Stasha in her car.
The conversation was light and revolved around a problem that Nancy was having with the network administrator she worked with accessing her account.
We got back to the house, and since it was still early, Nancy and I decided that a glass of wine would not hurt, and sat down in front of the fireplace with a glass each of White Zinfandel.
As I settled down next to her, Nancy asked me, "So, what kind of mood are you in?"
Caught somewhat off guard, I replied with the first thing that came to mind, "Passive, I guess."
She set down her wine glass and leaned over into me, lightly brushing her lips against mine, in a teasing kiss.
She came back and kissed me again, harder this time, and I responded, feeling a heat rising in my groin, knowing that my member was rising with it. We kissed for what seemed like hours, though it was really only minutes. Our tongues exploring each other's mouths, our hands roaming over each other's body.
"Do you want me to sleep on the couch?" she asked me, her voice husky with desire.
"No," I managed to gasp.
I picked her up from the couch, and she wrapped her legs around me as we continued kissing. Somehow, I managed to make it to the bedroom, and set her gently on the bed.
She lay back, her long auburn hair falling around her like the cascading waves of blood in the moonlight. Her dress had slipped up to her thighs as I carried her.
