Chapter 1
This is the story of my relationship with Gina, and what were the most intense years of my life. When I think back on it (and I find myself thinking back often), I realize the tone of our relationship was set by the end of our very first date.
When I met her online, we clicked immediately. We flirted back on forth and had amazing conversations about nothing and everything. For four weeks, we continued chatting and flirting online and I just couldn't get her out of my mind, so I asked her on a proper date. We both decided on a simple dinner out on a weeknight.
I should tell you a little bit about myself — my name's Darvin. I'm just past 30, standing tall at an even 6'0". My blond hair has darkened slightly with age and if that keeps up, it'll soon match my eyes. I'm no athlete, but I keep myself in shape by running during my lunch breaks — one of the perks of working for a company that includes a gym membership. I'm not bragging when I say I've been with my fair share of women, although I wouldn't consider myself a "ladies man." Truth is I've been with as many as I have because I never clicked with any past a surface level. Until I met Gina, that is.
I was unexpectedly nervous when I showed up at Gina's house. We fit so well online, I hoped we'd fit as well offline. I needn't have worried. The house itself was quite unassuming but spacious, on a corner lot at the end of a cul de sac. The landscaping actually made it feel very secluded.
I walked into the porch and rang the doorbell at 6pm prompt. No sooner was my hand off the button than the door was opening. There was Gina smiling wide inviting me in. Her pictures didn't do her justice. Her jet black hair was cut in a pixie bob and contrasted sharply with her porcelain white skin and steely gray eyes. She couldn't have been more than a couple of inches shorter than me, and very fit. And oh my god, those tits! I've always been a breast man, and Gina was the embodiment of why. I could feel my pants getting a tighter just standing before her. In short, she was absolutely gorgeous. The instant I saw her, my nervousness melted away.
I followed her in and was slightly surprised to see two more women seated at the couch, sizing me up. Gina introduced me to Angela and Brooklyn or — as the trio called themselves — "The Three Amigas."
Gina, Angela and Brooklyn had met over a decade ago as college freshmen. They never joined a sorority or anything like that, but they became instant friends and, during their sophomore year, shared an apartment. Now, well past college, they were all living in a house that Gina owned, equally contributing to the expenses.
The whole time we were together I never really understood what Gina did for a living, other than the fact she made serious bank in sales or high finance or something. Money didn't seem to be a concern for her; she much preferred to have the company of her best friends than hoarding cash.
Angela was your typically cute freckled fair-skinned type. Shoulder length red hair, bright green eyes. A nice apple-bottom with boobs a bit smaller than Gina's: bigger than a mouthful, smaller than a palmful. She worked as a flight attendant. And in the 15 minutes I had just met her, bemoaned several times about being perpetually single.
Brooklyn had skin the color of milk chocolate, with a very even complexion. Her hair was short and spiky, and she had a small diamond stud in her left nostril. She was a manager for one of the local pubs, often also serving as bartender for afternoon or evening shifts, and was very devoted to her boyfriend who was deployed overseas.
Gina and I didn't stay long chatting with her friends before we headed out on our date. Honestly the whole evening is still a blur. Suffice it to say it was one of the best dates I had ever been on. Our offline rapport was just a good as our online one — more so. After a couple hours of dinner and a delightful evening stroll through the moonlit night, we headed back to her place.
