I was nervous walking up to her door, knowing this was what I considered our "first" date -- and implicit with that was that we would not be having sex. I had not been without sex since my wife died, but every experience I'd been in had been casual -- no strings attached. I'd had sex with a few women that I met at different locations, but I'd always followed my own self-imposed rule of no sex on a first date. Although many of them had not been averse to going out on a date once, and returning for sex, most had been surprised when I turned down
their
proposition, their offer to let me "come in for a bit?" In every single case, those casual pickups had told me later that my refusal to take them to bed with no strings attached had made it special, later, when we did make it into bed.
The other thing about refusing first-date sex was, except for Meredith so many years before, I'd never had a one-night stand. Several women I had gone out with once, but we didn't have sex, and we both knew it wasn't right. Those women I never dated again. I had hooked up with several women over the last 10 years where we'd dated for several weeks or even months, and had wonderful, fun, sex; but they had all flagged eventually. The only one that I'd seen consistently was my work buddy, my "about once every week or so" fuck buddy, Loretta.
Loretta had approached me about 6 months after my wife had passed. We'd been working late which, after my wife died, became much more common as I had nothing to go home to. Afterward, I realized Loretta had dropped a few 'feelers' before as to whether I was interested, but I hadn't been looking for them. I was still feeling sorry for myself and lonely, so just missed them. She'd said 'goodbye' that evening, and I'd looked back at my computer screen, only to feel her hands on my shoulders a minute or two later. I started to look around, realizing it had to be her, only to have her hands grip my head and hold it in place so I could not look back. She leaned over my shoulder and whispered, "Jerry, I'm horny and I need to get laid. If you want to turn that damn computer off and take me home, I'll rock your world and you can rock mine. No strings; we're both single." She said nothing else for a moment and then said, "If you want to turn that computer off and join me, I'll be in the foyer for the next two minutes, and if not, I'll deny that I was ever here." She let go of my face, and I felt her moving away.
Loretta was usually the instigator in that relationship. I'd see it in her eyes, and then sometime in the afternoon, she'd question whether I was working late that night or not -- her virtual clue to me that she was horny and wanted sex. I always wondered whether anyone in the office suspected us, but one night, after I'd gone down on her, she laughed and said, "Oh My God, if they only knew how good you are with your tongue." I asked what she was talking about, and she told me that the secretaries and some of the women at work had been talking about me and whether I was "getting any" since the death of my wife. They all suspected I was, but since I didn't share tidbits of my love life with anyone they didn't any of them guess Loretta and I were fuck buddies. Nobody knew anything about my personal life, except Loretta. "And I didn't tell," she confirmed.
The thing about Loretta was that our relationship was just sex: no strings attached, sex. We didn't do other things together, but about once a week, she let me know she was horny, and we took care of each other. I never had to outright say anything to her, but she always understood my non-verbal query if she was interested. Perhaps just a bit of a lingering look in a meeting, a slight nod of my head to her, or hers to me in return. Sometimes, it was just with my eyes, eliciting a slight nod of acknowledgment from her in return, or occasionally a slight negative shake if she had something else planned that night. When that happened, she almost always came back the next day, usually just catching my eye and with a slight nod of her head, telling me she was up for some lusty entertainment. We never met at work, never traveled together, never did anything in the office -- and nobody ever suspected anything. Seldom did we ever exchange words during the workday, with perhaps the exception of that first time, after working hours, where she'd unquestionably told me she wanted to get laid -- by me.
I knew that going out with Meredith didn't feel like that. Since I'd bumped into her at the restaurant a few days before, she'd been essentially non-stop on my mind. Especially memories of that one night, 47 years before, sharing her with her husband, being his "Valentine's Day" present to her, having her fuck me silly, suck my cock while he was fucking her, and then the final straw: Rick saying that he'd "given" Meredith to me in payment for my tutoring services.
Meredith had a large expanse of cleavage displayed when she opened the door for me, the body-conforming dress quite reminiscent of her sweater dress from so many years before, although, that night, she hadn't been displaying any cleavage. I remembered her completely covered from neck to calf, the gentle bounce and sway of her boobs, the lack of panty lines on her bottom.
"Still showing off the girls?" I stated with a sheepish grin. Her response of, "You mean you like my boobs?" pegged me perfectly. I did like her boobs, they were very attractive and sexy, but that wasn't the only reason I had asked her out.
Our conversation started light, just normal banter of people who didn't know each other, gradually sharing about ourselves. A bottle of wine slowly disappeared, followed by sharing a portion of a slice of Molten Chocolate Lava Cake. Only a portion, as it was large enough that four of us could have shared it if there had been four of us.
"Would you like to come in?" Meredith asked at her door. I'd pulled the car into her driveway and almost got around to her side to open the door before she'd already pushed it open. Still, I took her hand and walked her to her door. Old habits die hard, I knew my father would roll over in his grave if he knew I hadn't escorted my date to her front door.
I didn't answer immediately, knowing that, without a doubt, her offer was to have sex with me. I did want to have sex with her, but I knew I also had that self-imposed "never on a first date" admonition that she didn't know about. Meredith and I had our
weird
fling, oh so long ago, and I had walked away then as I didn't just want sex with her. My attraction to Meredith was still more than just physical, although, here, again, she had dressed to accentuate her physical attributes.
"No," I said, shaking my head and reaching for her hand. "I don't think I better."
She didn't quite manage to control her face, her expression showing surprise, if not shock, at my refusal. "My wife died 11 years ago," I continued. "Since then, I've dated multiple women and had sex with many of them. I've got a fuckbuddy at work who I get together with once a week or so, purely for sex. Half a century ago, dating was all about possibly getting laid, and you know, and I know, that if I come in with you now, we're going to have sex. But for the last 11 years, I've never had sex on a first date. For me, it's no longer about just getting laid, no matter how much I'd like that. We're going to have a second date, and if you want to invite me into your living room for a glass of wine or into your bedroom for something more after that next date, I'll accept. But for tonight, I'm going to say no. I'll kiss you goodbye. But no, I won't come inside."
Meredith was looking at me, her head slowly bobbing in thought. "Nobody has ever just walked me to my door before. At least, not anyone that I've invited inside." We stood there looking into each other's faces momentarily before she pulled on my hand, pulling me closer.
My hand slipped up her arm and around to her back and shoulder as I bent my face to hers. Her face turned up, and her lips met mine, lips meeting lips until her mouth opened slightly, my tongue and hers meeting, greeting, inviting, and tantalizing. I felt her naked back under my hand, confirming as I'd known all evening long that she had no bra on. Pulling her to me, I felt her breasts press against my chest. Her hand slipped to my lower back, pulling me, and the erection that had sprung up in my pants, against her. She didn't reach between us, but she did keep her hand against my back, pushing her hips and belly forward against me. She pulled away from the kiss, not releasing her body pressed against mine.
"Are you sure you don't want to come in?" she asked, wiggling her pelvis against me. "It feels like you actually like that idea."
"There's no denying that," I answered, "but this is all new to both of us. If this is a good thing, it will be next time, too. So no, I'm not going to come in with you tonight. There's a lot about me that you don't know, and I'm sure there's a lot about you that I don't know."
Meredith stepped back slightly in my arms, looking into my face. "You like me?"
I nodded. "I do."
"I like you too," she said and stepped another step back from me. Unexpectedly, she reached to her hips, and her hands went to her hips, and I know my eyes must have grown wide as I realized she was working her underwear down under her skirt. When they got low enough, she reached under the hem and caught her underwear directly. Lifting one leg at a time, she slipped them off while I watched her eyes, my peripheral vision watching what she was doing. Reaching up with one hand, she took my hand and turned it over, and with the other hand, she pressed her silky panties into my hand.
They were damp.
"Jerry," she said, "you've had me wet all night. I've been looking forward to having sex with you ever since you called, and I can tell you want me, too. Next time, I'm not going to take no for an answer. But for now, I'm going to go in and diddle my bean and dream of making love with you again, and you're probably going to go home and masturbate, thinking of me, too. Do what you want with these, but if you want me to wear panties for our next date, you're going to have to bring these back." With that, she turned and opened her door. I watched her swing it open, only to turn back and purse her lips and blow me a kiss. "Call me," she said, stepping inside and pushing the door closed.
I was holding Meredith's panties in my hand as I moved the gear shift and began to drive away.
