Part 1:
"You know, what I've learned is that usually when a man mentions sex in a personal ad he just wants to get laid," Angel said with a slight smile.
He looked at her, more than a little taken aback. He thought that this had been dealt with. "Okay, I mentioned sex. But it was only to say I wasn't interested in one night stands," he replied. "As I told you in my emails I'm looking for friends. I would like sex, or at least being able to openly talk about sex, to be a part of the friendship. But, Angel, what I want more than anything is to find people I enjoy hanging out with. I thought you understood that."
"Yes, well..." she said, "most guys I know talk all kinds of shit but only want one thing."
He looked at her again. This was not going well, as far as he was concerned. Physically he found her very attractive but they seemed to be at cross purposes.
"I don't know about other guys," he said, finally. "I just know I want more than some kind of zipless fuck. I need an emotional connection. I thought women liked that."
"You're weird," she said. But for the first time there was genuine amusement in her voice.
Two weeks ago she'd responded to an ad he had on an Internet dating site. They'd exchanged a number of emails and come to the mutual conclusion that they'd like to meet. So here they were, having met for the first time at the restaurant she'd suggested.
"Well, yes, I know I'm kind of a complicated guy," he continued in response to her comment. "As I told you in my emails I'm not a one woman man. But I don't play games. You'll always know where you stand with me." She grinned at him. The realization that she was very possibly jerking his chain slowly dawned.
"You're really weird," she said again. "But very interesting. And you seem nice... for a weird person." She paused. "So, what kinds of things do you like to do with your friends?"
"Oh, I don't know," he replied, "hang out, go for bike rides, watch movies, talk..."
"Have sex?" She said, looking into his eyes. He felt his pulse quicken and his cock begin snaking down his pants leg.
"If that's something we both want to do." He felt something touch his ankle and guessed it was one of her feet. He tried to adjust his cock, now almost hard, discreetly but had the impression that she knew exactly what was going on. Whatever was under the table had found his knee.
"How many friends are we talking about here?" She asked with a mischievous grin. He liked the warm sparkle in her eyes, the sense of vitality and intelligence.
"I'm kind of in the middle of a dry spell right now," he said, feeling foolish. "The women I've met so far weren't too thrilled with the idea of polyamory."
"Polyamory?"
"I'm sure I mentioned it," he said. "It's a mix of the Greek 'poly' and the Latin 'amor' and means, basically, 'many loves'. Swinging is essentially about sex. Polyamory includes a deeper emotional involvement."
"Oh yeah, I remember now," she said. The presence pulled away from his knee and a moment later the waitress was placing their food in front of them.
"So..." she said after the waitress had left and they began to eat. "When was the last time you got any?" He almost choked. The presence was back, edging up the inside of his thigh.
He looked at her, wanting to lie but being the sort of person he was he knew he wouldn't.
"Alan!?" She said with mock severity.
"It's been over a year," he muttered.
The thing under the table disappeared. Her eyes were round with surprise. "You talk about all these 'friends' and I thought..."
"Well, I have some friends online and we do things. You know... chat and webcams... but it's all long distance. I haven't been with anyone physically for over a year." He hated hearing the defensiveness in his voice. "It's difficult to find like minded women in this area. At least it is for me."
"You poor baby," she said quietly with just a hint of humor. "I think it's time you dropped your fork."
"What?"
"Drop your fork."
He didn't drop his fork but got the drift of her suggestion. With a furtive glance around to see if anyone was watching he leaned over and looked under the table. Her knee-length dress was pulled up to the middle of her thighs and her legs were open. It took him a moment to realize what he was looking at. She was bare. Not only was there no underwear. There was no hair. Blood rushed to two places... his cock and his face. She laughed when she saw his red face rising over the edge of the table.
"You like?" She asked.
Speechless, he nodded. He wanted to tell her how much he enjoyed her playful spirit but couldn't quite get his tongue to cooperate.