It all started about a month ago when I met him online. It was a sex chat forum, so at first I didn't pay much attention to what I was telling him. You get so many random lewd messages, and only a rare few turn into actual conversations or roleplays, which I enjoy.
But Ralph was very polite and right off the bat we started talking freely; he could understand my irony and jokes even without me adding emojis to make the messages sound less serious, and he was always very careful not to make me feel uncomfortable about our discussed topics. He was actually the first guy I'd chatted with more than once. Usually the conversations last until one of us logs off, but with Ralph I kept coming back to chat; even at school or at my half-time job I sometimes found myself thinking about what I wanted to tell him about myself or ask him about his life.
I think it added to the excitement that we lived in the same city. I could have served him coffee at the cafe I work at and I wouldn't have known it. Sometimes when a handsome young man roughly fitting his description walked in, I would imagine it being Ralph and what he would tell me when he realized who I was. You know, the usual slightly naughty but quite innocent thoughts you get sometimes.
We had been talking for over two weeks when we started taking the thought of meeting up seriously. He was very insistent that he didn't want to force my hand, but I think a date was what we were both looking forward to. He suggested a small bar he knew for the meeting, and just to keep the suspense, we didn't exchange pictures of each other, but instead described what we would be wearing. I know I didn't have to tell him I was wearing black lace undergarments, but it made him happy and me even more excited.
He was the one who asked if I wanted there to be some kind of rules, just to feel safer. I felt like hugging him for that considerate thought, but since we were both at our separate laptops somewhere across the city, I sent him some flirty messages instead. We decided on a rule that could easily be described as "look, but don't touch", and that we would see where things escalated to if we felt comfortable with each other. That suited me perfectly, because as a virgin I was in no hurry to do anything terribly stupid on that first date.
So there I was, sitting at that tiny bar in a rather quiet part of the city, wearing a pink knee-length skirt and a black top. It was summertime, so I had foregone wearing any pantyhose, and I'd taken off my jacket indoors.
Ralph came right on time, wearing exactly what he'd described: simple dark blue jeans and a distinctive Skillet t-shirt. I was glad but not surprised that he looked just like he had said and just about how I had imagined him: slim but muscular, serious angular face with deceivingly kind brown eyes, messy brown hair and hairy arms.
What put me off a little at first was that he looked a bit older than he had told me. I had it on my profile that I was 18, although that was only true since two weeks ago, and he'd told me he was 21, but now that I could see and hear him, he appeared closer to thirty. "I get that a lot," Ralph laughed nonchalantly. "It's a good thing at a job interview but depressing when I go out with friends. Everyone looks like they're just out of high school and they get asked why they're hanging out with their uncle."
He got us drinks and we started off talking in that relaxed manner we had adopted while still chatting online. It was delightful! I hardly noticed as an hour passed by and the other three guests in that small bar left; no one came in after Ralph. I supposed it wasn't a very popular place. The barman was bored and on his phone for most of that time.
Although we weren't being vulgar or anything, I was tickled by the thought of how much intimate information this man sitting next to me on this bar couch already knew about me. I had told him I was still innocent, that I was physically completely unspoiled. He knew when I got very bored or turned on by something or someone, I liked to watch rough porn, sometimes black&white or hentai. He also knew I had once rubbed myself close to an orgasm in a bus, my hand hidden under my skirt and bag. Ralph had asked me a lot of questions about that experience, so he must have remembered all about it even now.
I knew about him, too, of course. He had had two serious girlfriends already, almost moved in with one, but they had broken up before it came to that. That girl had been a virgin when they met; just a random fact. Sometimes he would wank himself in a public bathroom when he met a really hot girl with whom he didn't think he had a chance. When he'd told me that I had tried to imagine him doing that because of me, and it had soaked my panties.
"I'd like to kiss you." We had been going on about first experiences and previous dates, so the suggestion didn't come completely out of the blue. His kind eyes were mesmerizingly innocent as he said that.
I think I blushed a little before nodding. I had liked Ralph since the first time we started chatting, so kissing him was guaranteed to be a pleasant experience.
He placed his hand on the back of my head as he leaned in, quite eagerly, and seized my lips in a happy kiss. It was tentative, tender even at first. He backed up a bit to look me in the eyes, as if searching for confirmation, and then went for it again, this time more possessive, braver. I knew we had agreed not to touch, but kissing was fine, I loved it. He licked my lips until I allowed them to part and his tongue began exploring my mouth. I had never been kissed like that, and he took full happy advantage of my inexperience by kissing me hard and long.
His other hand suddenly groped one of my breasts, completely surprising me. For a moment I wanted to stop him, but then I thought, what harm was there in him touching my breasts? We were both fully clothed; he just wanted to expand the experience, make us both enjoy the kiss even more. He squeezed my breast greedily, then felt for the nipple through the fabric. It was hard and he pinched it, sending a surprised jolt of pleasure up my spine.
My mind was a little foggy by the time I registered the fact that his hand had left my chest and was now on my knee, but more precisely, under my skirt. When I felt it start moving up, I quickly pressed my hands against his chest, gently but insistently pushing Ralph away from me.
"Stop," I said as calmly as I could, my hand landing on his on my thigh. Ralph gave me an innocent look. "We said, look but don't touch. Remember?" I gave him a forgiving smile, hoping he wouldn't be too upset with me ruining the moment.
He matched my smile, but without even a hint of apology said, "But that's what I wanted—to look. Your skirt is just getting in my way a little." I felt both embarrassed that I had accused him and shy because he wanted to see my pussy just like that. "Do you think we could change that?" he asked with a smirk, caressing the inside of my thigh and using his other hand to pat the now evident bulge in his jeans. "Or do you want to see mine first?"
I was left uncharacteristically speechless for a moment, gaping a little at him. We were in a public place after all! Not to mention we were seeing each other for the first time. As if guessing what I was thinking, he gestured vaguely around us.
"There's no one here, see? Even the barman has gone to the kitchen." I glanced around to see that he was right; we were completely alone, although I suspected a place like this might have a security camera somewhere. "There's no harm in looking, is there? It's like watching porn, only live and more intimate."
