Our first meeting was at a coffee shop, which, as it turns out, was not far from your apartment - although I didn't know that when we made plans.
When you suggested we meet for the first time there, I thought, "Totally fair. You can't escape a bad dinner date as quickly as you can someone you've met for coffee."
I wasn't planning on being a bad anything that night.
I got there well before the appointed hour, because the butterflies - figurative, not literal - were fluttering in my stomach. We had talked on and off for five weeks now, but I still wanted to make a good first impression.
It may sound silly that a stranger on the Internet inspired me. But I had gone back to working out after the first night we talked. I was committed to shedding a couple of these "dad bod" pounds before our first time.
To borrow a lyric: I wanted to look good for you.
I thumbed my drink nervously as I awaited you walking through that door. I didn't have to wait long.
From the moment you graced the entranceway, I was certain it was you.
Dark, smooth shoulder length hair.
A face so radiant it could power this small bistro we found ourselves in.
A neck so tender I ached when I thought of how good it would taste between my lips.
Breasts - oh, there was no doubt you knew their power to bring men to their knees. The outfit you wore flattered them well, although I imagined they'd look good in a potato sack if you were for some reason forced to wear one.
Those thighs. Oh and that ass. As you walked closer, you were smiling. I almost missed it because I was gawking at the view.
My face matched yours in intensity.
"Hello!"
"Hi."
As we embraced, I felt a warmth on my face and a beautiful scent in my nose.
"Be cool," I thought. I tried not to shake. I briefly allowed myself to think about where the evening may lead us, and I felt a rush of blood and a tingle in my fingers, neck and face.
We started conversing as old friends might, "catching up" on the lives we had, until present, lived in ignorance of each other. No life is completely sunshine and rainbows, but I leaned toward what was good and tried to avoid triggering thoughts of any of life's various disappointments.
We laughed. You laughed - oh, how wonderful it made me feel inside to hear you laugh. It brought out that smile, the one in the first picture you ever sent me. I had a collection of pictures thanks to you. But there's always a special attachment to the first one.
I felt a chemistry between us and I thought you were feeling it too. Our online conversations had carried over into real life and we were acting comfortable.
"Hey, should we get out of here?" you asked, seemingly innocently - although I swear I saw a hint of smile forming at the corner of your mouth.
"Sure! What did you have in mind?" I asked, hoping the answer was "back to my place for mind-blowing sex."
"There's a place nearby that I think you'll like," you said. You were trying to stifle that cheeky smile, but it was there.
"Lead the way," I replied.
You grabbed my hand and we walked out together, out of the coffee shop and onto the sidewalk. My pulse was quickening and I loved the element of surprise.
We walked for a while, continuing to chat and holding hands. I was using my thumb to lightly stroke your hand. The sun had fallen and the streetlights were illuminating our walk. Even under the harshest, most unforgiving lamps, your beauty overwhelmed me.
At the point which was longer than an aimless amble, but less than "does she know where she's going?" we slowed down in front of a house.
"Well, this is me," you said.
"Oh, that was a nice walk," I replied. "Can I come in so we can continue our chat?"
You agreed, although I think we both knew there wouldn't be much talking for the rest of the night.
The house, it turned out, was a multi-family apartment building. You lived a solitary existence, but kept the place clean - perhaps prepared for houseguests at any moment.
Once inside, I excused myself to go to the bathroom. I looked at myself in the mirror - everything still in its right place.
OK, calm down. You can do this. No expectations. Just have fun.
I noticed your medicine cabinet, and it struck me that there may be something in there that had your name on it. We had played this cat and mouse game for several weeks. You hadn't volunteered your name and I hadn't mine. We were familiar to each other, yet there remained an air of mystery.
I, of course, had given you several names. There were the sweet ones - "honey," "babe," "sweetie." Then there were the ones that jumped into my head when I was jerking off to the pictures you sent me - "fucktoy," "my little slut," "that fine piece of ass."
I decided not to look. It didn't matter if your name was Elena or Marie or Brittani (with an 'i'). You were still my beautiful stranger.
I exited the bathroom and saw you coming out of the kitchen with a glass of wine in both hands.
"I didn't know what you liked..." you trailed off.
"This is great," I replied, looking at something red and possibly sweet.
We sat on your couch as the sexual tension continued to fill the room. I took a sip of my wine, placed it on the table and reached my right hand behind your neck to pull you in for a kiss.
Thankfully, you acquiesced. (There's always that moment where you doubt yourself. Did I misinterpret signals?)
You broke away only to put your wine down on the table as well. We picked up where we left off. Our kisses were slow and small at first. But as my hand made its way from your neck to your shoulders to the small of your back, the kissing seemed to intensify.
Your tongue was soft and wet in my mouth and I briefly allowed myself to think of how that would feel wrapped around my stiff cock. I ran my fingers slowly up under your shirt and unclasped your bra. I had seen pictures of your breasts, but my body shuddered at the thought of being able to finally touch them.
I slowly lifted your shirt over your head in between kisses on your neck and mouth. My hands were now all over your chest, feeling each magnificent inch and circling your hard nipples with the tips of my index finger.
"Mmm," you said as your hands began to unbutton my shirt. Soon, enough buttons popped that my outfit could be brought over my head.
