Third Date

"Would you like a glass of wine?" he asked.

"Yes please."

She looked virginal in a white skirt, just above the knees, with white stockings and a white blouse. They stood on the balcony overlooking downtown; a loft in the old part of town; converted into condos from the shell of a 1930's department store. The grill was heating up, and the steaks were marinating. The vegetables were ready to steam, and the homemade bread was in the oven. Cooking a nice meal: his third date seduction technique.

"I have to be home by 9:30," she said. "The babysitter changed her plans at the last minute."

He thought he hid his disappointment well: "I understand. We'll have plenty of time for supper. And the sunset."

She was 38, divorced, with two kids. The profile on the dating site was sparse and to the point, but the photo had grabbed him by the balls immediately: dark black hair, deep brown eyes, full lips, pale skin. She looked to be of European descent -- Italian, maybe? Their first date had been the usual exciting but awkward and wary sniffing out of someone new.

"Another glass of wine?"

"Kiss me first."

So he pushed her against the balcony railing and kissed her; she stood on tiptoes and put her arms around his neck, having to strain to reach his mouth with her petite body.

He got them more wine and spread out the charcoal in the grill -- turning white and almost ready for the steaks.

Another kiss; this time his hands on her ass, pulling her up to help bridge the height difference. Their tongues danced, and he felt his erection swelling between them.

He remembered the second date: a long hike in the mountains -- it was dark and they were both pleasantly tired by the time he dropped her off at her apartment. A hike gives plenty of time to talk about many things, and something to do other than stare at each other. After the usual exploration of college, work, ex-spouses, and musical tastes, there was some sexual banter: likes and dislikes, what turns you on, what doesn't, what crazy experiences have you had, what fantasies still unfulfilled? She was open and emphatic about what she liked -- oral sex was her turn on -- she loved to be eaten out -- more so than having intercourse.

The goodbye kiss at the car had been prolonged and included much groping; hands down the panties -- two fingers into her wet pussy. Not virginal at all -- the sopping wet, elastic pussy of a mature woman who had delivered babies, liked sex, and knew what she wanted. The thing he remembered most was sniffing his fingers every few seconds on the drive home. She had the most pungent, arousing aroma of any woman he'd ever experienced. And it lingered -- he could still smell her on his fingers the next day.

"Why don't you show me the bedroom?" she said.

He led her into the bedroom, and she playfully pushed him down onto the bed on his back, and straddled his waist.

"We don't have much time," she said, as she unbuttoned her blouse and put his hands on her breasts.

"Take off your bra," he said.

She unclipped the bra and looked at him self-consciously, like she was ashamed of her breasts. They were on the small side, a little saggy, with dark brown nipples. Perfect.

"They're beautiful," he said, pulling her down and sucking one beautiful, soft breast into his mouth. He quickly discovered that having her nipples chewed on was another one of her sexual triggers.

He rolled them both over, onto her back, and kissed her belly button, his chest against her splayed thighs, white panties visible with the skirt slid up around her waist.

"What now?" he asked teasingly.

"You know what I like."

He pushed his nose into the damp white panties, inhaling that intoxicating aroma that had haunted him ever since the drive home after the hike. She helped him slip off the panties; lifting her hips and eagerly pushing down the sides with her thumbs, revealing the hairiest pussy he had ever seen. Hairy, aromatic, wet -- he had been a little coy at first about what he liked -- but this was it. Going down on a woman was his favorite thing in life, and he was going to take his time...

They reluctantly said goodbye at 9:05, with steaks still sitting in the marinade, and the bread burnt in the oven.