My first attempt at writing something slightly longer. It starts slow but builds as I wanted to make this vaguely more realistic that just a quickie. Again, I've glossed over long conversations, partly because I don't think I'm very good at them, but also because it just seemed to slow things down unnecessarily.
Introduction
I walked quickly down the suburban street. Rows of almost identical small houses passed on either side, anonymous in their ubiquity, as I counted the house numbers to myself. Not wanting my eagerness to show to any passer-by, I tried to keep my pace steady as my mind wandered back over the past few days. I could hardly believe this was happening to me, yet it was true.
We had first made contact through an on-line dating service. Having chatted via e-mail a few times, the e-mails had slowly got saucier and saucier with innuendo, and then obvious sexual references. We had eventually arranged to meet in-person at a local pub during the lunch hour. Public, and safe, yet quiet enough that we could talk easily without being overheard.
The First Date
I had arrived first, and waited near the entrance to greet her when she arrived. I can remember clearly the very second she walked through the door. Perhaps five-foot eight or nine in her high heels, wearing a plain, straight denim mini-skirt skimming the top of her thighs, bare tanned legs and brown ankle-strap sandals with four-inch high stiletto heels. Her top was a simple white cotton blouse, off-the-shoulder with a little lace trim along the elasticated top-edge, and no sign of any bra-straps showed to spoil her wonderfully bare shoulders. Her firm breasts bulged enticingly under the blouse, which was pulled low down over both shoulders to almost half-way down her upper-arms. Was she wearing a strapless bra under that blouse, or not? I couldn't tell, and thinking back, I guess that was half the point? Even now, I smile at the memory of that very subtle tease.
Her subtly high-lighted brunette hair was tied loosely back in a long pony-tail, held in place by a denim scrunchy that matched her skirt, and a simple hoop of thin gold was threaded through each ear ear-lobe, large enough to almost touch her shoulders, and bang enticingly against her bare neck with each bouncing step. It was an understated sexyness that wouldn't draw too much unwanted attention on a first date, nothing that would look out of place in the late summer sun. Yet it was very apparent that she had put a lot of thought into what she would wear, what I might like, for our first meeting after those many weeks of exchanging e-mails.
It was her eyes that stood out though. Pale sky-blue eye-shadow drew the attention immediately, blended up to fade away into an almost white high-light just under the brow. I couldn't look away. A slightly deeper royal-blue eye-liner had been applied thickly all around her eyes, and especially on the water-line, making her eyes seem even larger and brighter, they sparkled and glinted as she passed though a sunbeam from the windows. Several coats of matching royal-blue mascara added the final touch of glamour to that simple, yet utterly enticing image. "Eyes you could drown in" was all I could think of, even though it was an old cliché. She smiled as she approached me at the bar, her lips coated in shining frosted pale-pink lipstick. She didn't stand out from the crowd too much, yet she was very clearly the most attractive woman in the room.
"You look fantastic" was all I could I could think of to say. It seemed a hopelessly inadequate compliment at her effortless beauty, but at that moment I was interrupted by the barman. I covered my sudden lack of vocabulary by ordering our drinks, and we retreated to a booth towards the back of the bar where it was quieter. When she picked up her drink, I noticed that her fingernails were painted the exact same colour as her lips, a delicate shade of frosted pink. I could feel my erection growing just as I looked at her, and was glad we were sitting down, it would have been embarrassingly obvious had we been standing up.
I vaguely remember us chatting happily for the entire time allowed to us in our lunch hour, although I can hardly remember anything of what was said that first time. I was so entranced by those eyes, and that beautiful blue eye makeup, that I felt as if I was almost babbling incoherently. Whatever I said, all I knew was that she smiled a lot, lighting up her face and making me want to kiss those lipsticked lips. But I resisted the impulse. This was only our first date after all, and I didn't want to come across too strong in case I scared her off. The time passed far too quickly, and once or twice our knees had touched accidentally under the small table as we leaned close to talk.
When our time was up, I led her back out to her car in the car park, enjoying the click-clicking of her stiletto heels on the concrete as she walked. I wanted to just stand back and admire that walk, but stayed as close as I dared. She stopped to get her keys out of her bag, and I leaned in to kiss her goodbye. I was very surprised when, although I was clearly aiming for her smooth cheek, at the last second she turned her head and our lips met, I tasted her lipstick. Fantastic. I tried not to show my surprise, and I held that kiss for as long as I had dared, my hands cupping her bare shoulders, before I slowly pulled away. Then, feeling bold, I leaned in again, and kissed her a second time, she responded by stepping even closer and putting her arms around my waist. It only lasted a few seconds, long enough to seem like little more than a friendly kiss to any casual observers, yet a definitely longer than was necessary.
"You did fine" she had whispered, smiling up at me. "Same time tomorrow?" I must have been grinning like an idiot, but I didn't care.
The Second Date
Again I had arrived first, and found a spot slightly further away from the entrance, as today the bar was more crowded. She was a few minutes late, and I was just starting to get worried when the door opened and in she walked. At first I was disappointed, she was just wearing a simple grey business suit! But as she made her way through the throng towards me I took in the details, and my disappointment had turned to sheer delight by the time she reached my side.
The tight pencil-skirt ended just above her knees, and was slit high up one leg. Each step she made flashed her beautiful legs, and a lace stocking-top from the sheer black stockings could just be glimpsed. The simple black patent court shoes had a full five-inch high very thin stiletto heel. As she came towards me on those fantastic high-heeled shoes, I could see that she walked without any awkwardness or difficulty despite the height and thinness of the heels. Each step was accompanied by a delicious swaying of her hips that harkened back to the days of the great movie sirens from the 1950's and 60's. On those high heels, she walked with a practiced ease and nonchalance that spoke volumes to my admiring eyes. She could happily wear even higher heels when she wanted.
Her suit jacket, cut quite low at the front, fitted closely over her curves. A wide belt, pulled tight, emphasised the narrowness of her waist and the fullness of her breasts and hips. She had curves to melt a man's heart. At first I didn't spot any sort of blouse under the suit jacket, and when she was next to me I saw why. This close up, I could see a glimpse of a black lace half-cup bra. She caught me staring at her almost-exposed breasts under her jacket, but instead of reproaching, she looked up into my eyes and smiled, clearly enjoying the effect she was having on me.
Her hair was worn long and loose today, in contrast to the business suit, and it gently softened the sharp lines, making her look less severe and even more feminine, as if there could ever be any doubt. Long elegant strands of fine gold chain dangled from each ear, the earrings each ending in a small diamante that rested on her shoulders, and peeped through her hair.
Her makeup was less colourful than the day before, yet even more dramatic. A pale silver-white high-lighting eye-shadow had been applied all the way to the brows, and then this blended softly into a deep smoky-look of a dark silver-grey shadow all around her eyes. Jet-black eye-liner was formed to a sharp point in the inner-corner of her eye, extended heavily all around both the lower and upper lids, and on the waterline, to extend out in a long sweep beyond the outer-corner, where it blended into the deep silver-grey eye-shadow. Several coats of black mascara extended and enhanced her lashes to their utmost, taking my breath away with the beauty and simplicity of the effect.
Her smile was just as dramatic. A deep ruby-red lipstick had replaced the subtle frosted pink of the day before, and my desire to kiss those lips was an almost physical urge that I couldn't resist. I leant down, and gently touched my lips to hers. She pushed herself closer, her soft lips pushing into mine gently. Her fingers, with ruby-red fingernails that matched her delicious lips, held the back of my neck enticingly for a brief few seconds before she pulled away.
"I had hoped you'd like this," she said, and before I could make some laughably hopeless comment on her beauty, she looked down pointedly at the very obvious bulge in my trousers, "and that's as big a compliment as any girl could want." I felt like I was blushing a red as deep as her lipstick as she continued to stare at my erection for a few more seconds. Then she looked back up to my face, giggled out loud, and smiled at me
"Oh, that will never do" she tutted. Reaching out, she cupped my cheek with her hand and wiped some transferred lipstick from my lips with her thumb, much to the amusement of the other bar patrons around us. I didn't care. The taste of those lips and that lipstick had been nectar to me. I had to have more. As I busied myself ordering drinks, she quickly got a small compact mirror and lipstick out of her bag, and expertly touched up her makeup where our kiss had smudged it slightly.
We wandered towards the back of the pub again, finding our booth from the day before empty. She sat down so that the slit in her skirt was towards me, and the act of sitting had hitched her skirt very slightly up her legs. Glancing down, I could now see half an inch of smooth flesh above her lace stocking-top. The ache in my groin increased as another surge of blood pumped through my already erect penis.
