Time dragged on and I pined for her. My every thought was tainted with the image of her, with the imagined taste and smell and feel of her. Linda was driving me mad, and if she had any idea she hid it very well. I needed desperately to be with her, but she had shown no interest in other women, and I didn't know how to coax her into such an encounter. I did have a plan, if it could be called that.
My plan was basically to invite her to a private "study" session, get her good and drunk, and make a move on her. Very creative, I know. Along with the fact that it was a stale idea, it had another great flaw. It required me to make the move, to be the dominant one in the encounter. Through my experiences with Maggy and Jennifer I had become certain that this was not what I wanted.
For this reason, along with an inexplicable timidity that overcame me every time I was in Linda's presence, I could not force myself to attempt an execution of my plan. Many times I tried, but each and every time ended with my face blushing and my tongue wrestling with itself.
To my great relief Linda made her own move, preempting me and ending the need for my completely useless plan. She proposed a girls night out of sorts, dinner and a movie. I didn't think she had intended it as a date in the slightest, though I had my hopes. I was a little apprehensive about the movie part. I don't really get along with movie theaters, for many reasons. But this was a chance at Linda. I would walk on glass for that, I think I could endure a movie theater for her.
I dressed casually for the night, but sexy. I wore the tightest pair of jeans I had, almost killing myself in the process of putting them on. The top half consisted of an itty bitty tee shirt that showed off my flat stomach. Linda was going to swing by and pick me up so we could save money on gas. I sat on my couch awaiting her. I had sweaty palms, and an anchor in my stomach. I looked at my watch. I was ready twenty minutes early.
I leapt up to open the door when I hear the knocking announcing her arrival. She was here early. I yanked the door and my jaw flew to the floor. Obviously my dressing casually had been a mistake. Linda was dressed in a black skirt that went just a little past halfway to her knees, and a lavender blouse. The skirt showed far too much of her shapely legs for the sake of my sanity, and the combination of her ample breasts, a tight blouse, and the fact that quite a few of the top buttons were undone created a stunning effect. I found that I had to repeatedly think to myself 'her mouth talks, not her tits.'
"I just realized that I looked at the wrong time for the movie," she explained, "we're going to have to hurry. It starts soon."
We quickly descended the stairs and made our way through the parking lot. It was a good thing she was going to drive, because I don't think I could have peeled my eyes away from her long enough to look at the road. I found her leading me to a newish sports car
"Buckle up," she reminded me as she started the car.
As we squealed and screeched out of my apartment parking lot I changed my stance on who should have been driving. Linda was a beast. She was by far the most aggressive driver I had ever ridden with. At stop signs she did nothing more than slow down to 15, she rode other cars so closely I couldn't even see their tires, and she swerved in and out of lanes like she was out of control on an icy road.
I found myself welcoming the sight of her sexy legs to distract me from everything flying by and all of the narrowly avoided collisions. When we finally slammed to a halt in the movie theater parking lot I gave thanks to whatever higher authority might have preserved me through that wild ride and then made my escape from the car.
"Wow!" was all I said.
"Sorry, that was a little rough."
"Just a little."
"But I got us her in time, didn't I?"
"On time, and alive somehow," I conceded, but my grin revealed to her that I wasn't truly upset.
We made our way through the ticket line, and considered the concessions stand.
"I don't think we have time, unless you don't mind missing the start of the movie," Linda said.
There aren't many things that bother me more than missing the beginning of a movie. On top of that, snacks only irritate me because they add background noise, which I usually have enough of in a theater anyway. So we decided to forgo the snacks.
We entered the screen room and quickly found some seats. The theater was surprisingly unoccupied, so we were able to find good seats that were neither too far away nor too close. There was a devil on my shoulder telling me to insist on seats in the back so Linda and I could engage in less than wholesome activities, but I ignored it.
In the pale flickering light, I was unable to fully study Linda's body as much as I would have liked, but perhaps that made it even more enticing. In the dim light the curves of her calves and the swell of her breasts looked even more inviting, even more seductive.
If my life depended on it, I could not tell you anything about that movie we watched. When I was not furtively taking in the visual delight that Linda was, I was staring at the screen but seeing her. I found my thoughts fixated on her perfect calves. I had never known myself to have a leg fetish before, but her calves fascinated me. I could imagine myself spending an eternity lavishing my kisses upon her legs, worshiping them with my tongue, massaging them.
When the credits began to roll, I was still lost in my own little dream land. In that dream I was Linda's servant, and oh the tasks she had for me! When she stood to leave, I was yanked back into cruel reality.
"That was kind of disappointing," she remarked.
"I've seen worse," I replied, a grin lighting my face as I referred to something else entirely.
Linda gave me an odd little look but said nothing more.
We went back to her car and exited the parking lot. She drove a bit more gently this time around, though the aggressiveness was still there. It was controlled enough now that I found it kind of arousing.
"Do you like Italian?" she queried.
'Not really, but I like you,' I thought of saying for a brief moment. I settled for, "Sure," instead.
"That didn't sound very convincing."
"Don't worry about it. I'm just in a funny mood tonight."
"Do you even want to go out for dinner then? I can just drop you off at your apartment if you want."
I panicked. That was definitely not what I wanted. "No!". It escaped me with far too much conviction to be explainable by anything other than a deep consuming desire to spend time with her. "Let's go ahead. We're already out, no reason to waste the night."
If she noticed the strength of my outburst, she did not choose to acknowledge it. We went to a locally owned Itallian restaurant. We were seated. I have never been a drinker and I was unfamiliar with the whole wine thing, so Linda ordered a bottle for both of us in order to introduce me.
I ended up ordering some dish I could barely pronounce consisting of pasta and chicken. Linda ordered a similarly unpronounceable and similarly assembled dish.
