It was ironic that I was watching "He's Just Not That Into You" when he called. It had become a Valentine's Day tradition: watch a sappy chick flick, cook myself a nice dinner, and try not to dwell too thoroughly on the fact that it was my 30th Valentine's Day without a boyfriend. This year, I'd chosen my movie based on my New Year's Eve festivities. I'd had an amazing night with Nathan, a night that had been over a year in coming, and I still wanted to get to know him, but his interest had stopped. I'd wasted countless texts asking him to hang out, but despite saying he wanted to be friends, nothing else ever happened. So I stopped. I dreamed, I wrote, but I didn't talk to him. Watching the movie only added an extra dose of reality: he was only into me when he was drinking.
But Thursday night, my phone rang, which in itself was strange; we always communicated by text. I picked it up, my heart thumping, scared he'd pocket-dialed. But he greeted me happily and asked if I wanted to go get dinner. I wanted to ask him if he realized what day it was, but I wanted a date more, even if was simply dinner with a friend. So I told him I'd be ready in twenty minutes, gave him my address, and jumped in the shower. I soaped up with a cupcake-scented body wash, toweled off, and applied a sweet, lickable body powder. Never hurt to be prepared.
It was an easy choice to slip into the shortest skirt I owned, completed with black tights, leather boots, and a loose pink sweater. I was an expert at applying make-up quickly and was just letting my hair down when he knocked at my door. I flipped over at the waist, sprayed a spritz of perfume in my hair, and shook some body into my locks, then I opened my door. He looked nice and he smelled amazing; maybe he did realize the date. I was a little disappointed that he wasn't carrying a rose, but beggars couldn't be choosers. I hugged him hello, grabbed my purse, and followed him back downstairs. Every neuron in my body was firing and it was all I could do not to reach out and stroke his spine. Jeez, this guy had power over me.
I was quiet in the car; I didn't know what was happening. I had a hundred questions, none of which would come out. Nathan was acting as casual as could be, as if this was something we did all the time, as if I hadn't gone almost a month without hearing anything from him. In a way, it almost seemed true. I'd spent enough time dreaming about him that it was hard to believe it had really been that long. But my hands started trembling, a natural reaction to built-up sexual tension. When he pulled into a parking spot in front of the Melting Pot, every muscle in my lower abdomen clenched and I wondered if someone had managed to tell him my fantasies. Inside, he requested a quiet table (like there was anything else in this restaurant), and before the hostess led us away, I grabbed his wrist. "What are you doing?" I asked, maybe a little more harshly than I'd intended. This had stopped being funny.
He shrugged. "Making up for lost time?" he said. "Happy Valentine's Day."
I smiled, but I was ridiculously confused still. This from a man who told me countless times he didn't want a relationship; this from a man who rebuffed any and all sexual advances I made (except on New Year's Eve), despite my assurances that all I wanted was to be friends with benefits. With the thought of New Year's Eve at the forefront of my brain, I followed Nathan and the hostess to a secluded table for two. I was relentlessly nibbling on my lip and my eyes felt wide enough to pop out of my head. I was so turned on I thought I might burst, and without even thinking about it, I decided to play that angle. Whatever intentions he had, I wasn't going to assume he suddenly wanted a relationship. I wanted to fuck him, and that would never change.
When the waiter asked for our drink order, Nathan ordered a beer and smiled at me, waiting. "I don't have to be drunk to want you, Nate," I said softly. I put my hand on his leg and looked at our waiter. "Just water for me, thanks," I said. The look on his face led me to believe he'd heard my aside, and that just added fuel to my fire. When he walked away, I slid my hand a little higher and got the nerve to look at Nathan's face. He had a funny little half smile on, which I took as a good sign. Swallowing heavily, I stroked his leg slowly, up, down, up, down, climbing higher with each stroke. I noticed the instant his breathing changed and that time let my hand linger right where his thigh met his dick. He was already hard, and touching that lump made my own breath come fast. My mouth went dry and I turned my hand over, letting my knuckles graze over his tight zipper. I leaned closer to kiss his ear just as the waiter returned. I retreated, but only slightly, and our waiter smirked and quickly delivered our drinks. I wondered briefly if this was a common occurrence in this place, and then resumed my exploration.
Nathan's neck was a place I'd come to fantasize about. Few guys responded the way he did when I kissed them there. I smiled against his skin when he drew in a sharp breath, and while I yearned for him to touch me in return, I was thrilled that his hands stayed primly on the table, one gripping his beer. I licked the skin under his ear, which I also knew was sensitive. I nibbled his earlobe, traced the rim with my tongue, and bent once more to his neck. I nuzzled him and massaged his cock until I thought he'd explode right there at the table. And then I relented. I scooted over in the booth, and just in time. Our waited returned to take our order, and I rattled it off without asking Nate, who seemed incapable of speaking anyway. When he'd left again, I looked down at the menu. "I hope that's okay," I said coyly.
"You think I fucking care?" he asked, his voice husky. This time he slid closer. I was already so wet that my panties were sticking to me, but when his hand slid underneath my skirt, my pussy throbbed like it had a heart of its own. I instantly slid my hips forward, that warm, moist spot all but trying to swallow his hand. His fingers pushed at my mound through my tights and I involuntarily moaned. I looked at him, my eyes locking with his, and we both smiled. I was out of breath in less than 30 seconds. With his other hand, he pushed my skirt up around my hips. I straightened my legs completely and leaned my head against the back of the booth. He took the move as an invitation and started working my neck. "Fuuuuuck," I moaned quietly. It was my favorite spot.
After such an amazing first 15 minutes, it proved nearly impossible to make it through the two-hour dinner. It may have taken longer than normal considering we both only used one hand. With his left, he had me nearly creaming every five minutes or so, but then he'd retreat. I picked up where he'd left off, and we traded like that through our meal. By the time we'd paid the bill, we were both so hot it was a wonder we could make it outside. But make it we did, and I dragged him around a corner of the building and pushed him against the wall. I kissed him until we couldn't breathe, my tongue tangling with his in the sexiest dance. Someone whistled in the distance, and a rush went through me. My hands went to his belt and his hands went to my wrists. "Are you sure?" he asked.
"Are you fucking kidding?" I replied.
I resumed kissing him, alternating delicious bites of his jaw line with long laps of his lips. He tasted like the chocolate we'd only just finished with a hint of cigarette smoke. I buried my face in his neck, recalling the scent of him on New Year's Eve, of wood smoke and cigarettes, which had once repelled me but now turned me on. Leaning against him, I continued opening his belt. When it hung open, I unbuttoned his jeans and slowly, so slowly, pulled his zipper down. I kept my eyes purposely trained on his face, every so often kissing something, an eye, his nose, a cheekbone. I was careful over his bulge, and felt him spring free of the zipper. I finally looked down to see his boxers had hearts on them, and one was standing at particular attention. I giggled and bit the inside of my cheek. I slipped my fingers inside the waistband of his underwear and tickled his abdomen. His groan escaped instantly and he arched his back against the brick. I looked quickly over my shoulder, half hoping, half fearing that we'd have an audience. But the parking lot back here was deserted and the thrill of being caught was too good to ignore. I didn't spare a second thought for my tights before kneeling on the asphalt. A sound that could have been words came from Nathan's throat as I pulled his boxers apart at the fly, setting him free entirely. I looked up just to check that this was still okay, and when he smiled at me, I set my mouth to his cock. His "fuck!" was loud and reflexive and I grinned around his erection. I licked the tip slowly, running my tongue ring along the ridge, thrilling as his body jerked in response. I tasted every inch, taking him deep into my mouth and slowly drawing him out, sucking deeply. His hands went to my head, but he didn't push, he simply dug his fingers into my curls. I raised my eyes to see him looking down at me in complete rapture, and I smiled again, lightly tracing his shaft with my teeth, glorying in the small noises he made.
I felt his body tense after a few minutes, and I stopped, craning my neck to look at his face. His head was bent backward now, and when I stopped, his hands gripped me closer. "No way," I said, grabbing his wrists and removing his hands. "Not so fast." It may not have been the nicest thing to do, but I wasn't nearly finished with him yet. I stood up, took his boner in my hand, and squeezed lightly, receiving a loud, animal-like noise from Nathan. "Can you bear it?" I whispered in his ear. Then I bit his earlobe, and it was all the invitation he needed to abruptly switch places with me. His pants still hanging open, he ground his hips into mine, gently shoving his knee between mine and successfully opening my legs. My skirt traveled north and his adept hands caressed my pussy through my tights and then climbed higher, pulling the waistband down until the two articles were separated. I thought I heard another whistle and my eyes flew open, but there was no one there. My adrenaline surged as Nathan's hands delved into my panties. I was smooth and soft and the sensation was out-of-this-world. It must have been awkward for him, working me with the tights doing their best to cling to me, but he did well, and soon I was writhing against the wall. "Not yet," I pleaded. "Not here."
Slowly, he stopped, and it took me a minute to catch my breath. I straightened my tights and pulled down my skirt, and as I was reaching for his boxers, I caught sight of the couple strolling a few yards away from us. I pulled Nathan close, quickly tucking his dick back into his underwear and then pulling his hips into mine and kissing him again. This time the whistle wasn't imagined, and I smiled at the couple over Nathan's shoulder. "Happy Valentine's Day," I managed to say.
"Indeed!" the guy called back, and as I watched, he put his hand on his girl's ass, drawing her nearer. When they'd gone, Nathan and I both burst into laughter, exhilarated and beyond horny.
