Lena
Waiting at the passenger side of my car, I extended my hand to help him down. He accepted, and we strolled toward his front door. Some guys were still too proud to be assisted, but most were getting over it.
Brian, my date for the evening, gave me an expectant smile as I knelt on his porch -- or, more accurately, his mother's porch -- to say good night eye to eye.
Mm, I just wanted to bite those little dimples of his. And maybe have him nibble something of mine...
"I had a nice time tonight."
"Me too. Thanks for dinner Lena."
There was definitely chemistry. Or at least, it seemed like it. Then again, that's what I had said after the last three dates. He was different though. Unlike the other guys, he didn't seem afraid of me. When I caught him checking out my tits, I used my upper arms to surreptitiously push up what I had been blessed with to tempt him into boldness.
The warm light of the porch lamp cast dark shadows across his face as I regarded him with intent, leaving the door wide open for him to lean in and press his lips to mine. I knew the rules though: no contact initiated by the woman. So I played it straight -- it wasn't worth risking my membership.
It seemed as though he was going to take what I had offered, but he pulled back and looked away. Since when was he shy?! Those looks he gave me at the restaurant certainly said otherwise. I tried not to let my disappointment show, but inside I felt the door closing on my chances of getting laid tonight.
Inside, my frustration mounted. Guys used to be so easy!
I pouted at his reluctance, crossing my arms under my breasts to erode his resolve in multiple ways. I'd be damned if I was letting this fish off the hook just yet. He was so close to inviting me in, I was sure.
There was no men's handle on the door, so I wondered if his mom's house was designed with men in mind at all. Some women preferred it when their husbands were dependent on them. Hmm, that's an idea...
"How about I come in for a little bit? It doesn't look like there's anyone home to help you out. I could get the lights for you, if you want."
He demurred, "Hmm, that does sound tempting, but I'll be fine. I'm sorry Lena, you're beautiful, and I really enjoyed talking with you, but I need to take this slow. I hope you understand."
So he wanted to see me again? Hey, at least I wouldn't leave here without prospects.
I nodded sympathetically. "Sure, I understand. I guess I should go then.
"No chance for a goodnight kiss? I sure would love something to remember you by. It would really make this night unforgettable. But it has to be a
real
one this time." My smile was coy as I closed my eyes, hoping he would surprise me.
That seemed to do it. This time his lips planted firmly on my plump bottom lip. As I'd hoped, he forgot that since I was kneeling, my folded legs stuck out a few feet in front of my face, causing him to stumble right into me as he closed in.
His hands went out instinctively, one pressing into my left breast for support. I moaned when he contacted my yielding flesh. Sure, I was playing it up a bit, but if it worked to ignite his passion...
Easily steadying him with a hand, I focused on our kiss. My women's magazines told me how intimidating we can be to guys while kissing, so I let him lead, following as he slowly gained the courage to seek my tongue out with his.
"Mmm" I murmured, licking my lips and savoring the moment with my eyes closed when he retreated. He hadn't taken his hand from my chest. He didn't seem aware that he was massaging me lightly. I giggled a little inside, betting he was enjoying that. I
was
pretty spectacular there.
Suddenly, he pulled his hand back, as if it were scalded. "I-I'm sorry! I don't know what..."
Seeing a smirk on my face instead of anger, he calmed.
"No harm done, cutie. Just a little preview for next time, right? Unless you want to change your mind and invite me in, get a bit more acquainted with them? I can arrange a
private
interview, if you like."
He blushed when I shot him a sultry wink.
"You tempt me!" he chuckled, "but where would that leave me? Just another notch on the old bedpost. Right?"
He turned and labored with the front door before I realized my manners and assisted him like a gentlewoman.
"Brian, I'm not like that. I thought we had a nice time, is all, and I didn't want our night to end so soon. But I can see I'm pressuring you, so I got it; message received.
"Can I call you though? Maybe we could do something next Friday."
He looked over his shoulder and nodded, treating me to another warm smile.
"Definitely, please do. I'll look forward to hearing from you.
"'Night Lena."
"'Night!"
I turned and bounced toward my car, giddy at the idea of having a nice, normal guy as a committed boyfriend. If I played my cards right, I'd be making space for him in the bottom drawer of my dresser within a couple of weeks.
Remembering something, I turned back, "Oh, hey, Brian." The door had nearly closed, but he stopped it with his foot.
"Do you mind checking in with the service for me?"
"Sure, no problem."
I headed home to my single bedroom apartment in the new part of town. When I picked him up earlier, I was pleasantly surprised. Hot guys rarely went about in public anymore, unless they were with their women. Most girls were afraid to let them out of their site for fear they would be stolen -- literally or figuratively. So the standards for attractiveness in unattached men were much lower than they once were.
I wasn't quite sure how a handsome guy like Brian had fallen through the cracks, but I wasn't looking that gift horse in the mouth. Straight dark brown hair, hazel eyes and a nice jawline, he stood a bit shorter than the average man, but three or four inches hardly mattered when anyone he would date would be several feet taller. His had nice shoulders and a slim build; not particularly muscular, but not unattractive.
Sadly, he also had that unfortunate mom-dressed-me look. Yet another aspect that I was finding common in men now that so many of the bachelors had moved back in with mom.
Driving home, I compared him to Alex, as I always did after meeting a new potential lover. Sadly, Elise's man had set an impossibly high watermark for my dates. I desperately hoped that Elise couldn't see how much I wanted him.
I remembered reading an article online today when I was procrastinating at work about what women found attractive in a man, physically. While it was no surprise that women still preferred muscular, lean body types, the article discussed how marginalized the value of men's physical prowess had become in our new women-dominant paradigm. It also touched on certain features that were becoming more sought after by women, according to surveys. Naturally, most of them centered around the ability to bring a woman more pleasure. Obviously, larger sex organs was high on the list. The days of "size doesn't matter" were over.
Right then, what I really wanted to do was call Alex for a little rendezvous. I'd done so on occasion before, and Alex was willing more often than not. Never had I been satisfied like I was with him. I felt my skin flush just from the thought. I was really grateful to have a friend like Elise that would share such a treasure with me.
But of course, we would enjoy no tryst tonight. My little on-again-off-again lover had been missing for a over a week, and I thought about what might have become of him often. Elise was at her wit's end, bending her tack-sharp mind relentlessly to the task of getting him back. Despite my jealousy for her, inside I knew she was a better person than me, and I felt for her during this time.
Walking in, I flipped the lights on and threw my small jacket on the couch. It was late, so I headed into the bathroom to get ready for bed. Pulling the ties out of my hair, I used a half-dozen tissues and cleansers to remove my makeup, and changed into a comfy t-shirt and sweats.
Standing before the mirror, I looked at myself critically. The slightly heavyset girl of my youth was gone. The woman that replaced her now would have been unrecognizable to young Lena. A stunning combination of sultry curves, flawless pale skin, and exquisite facial features, I felt I was being modest saying I would have been a '9' some years ago.
But now? Who could say? Standards for feminine beauty were so much higher that it was difficult to know where I stood. Better than average? Probably. Unforgettable? No.
Trying to consider myself objectively, I pulled off my shirt and turned this way and that. Full, high breasts dominated my chest, and provided a plush foundation for large, bumpy areola and prominent nipples with excellent symmetry. My narrow waist flowed beautifully into child-bearing hips.
The mirror hid nothing, however, and I was not without flaws too. The slight asymmetry of my nose from where I had broken it playing tag in second grade; the way my smile crooked on one side; the thickness of my eyebrows.
But things were not as they used to be, I reminded myself. Women still needed beauty, but wealth, position, and ability to provide were, in some ways, more paramount to gaining a mate of quality. Aside from Brian, the last couple guys I dated were more concerned about my car than my outfit.
In a world full of what used to be pinup model-quality women, we had to have
some
way to set us apart.
My thoughts ran to my family. I still hadn't spoken to them since they turned me out, but I wondered if my mother had become infected at some point. It would have been sad given their absolute terror for what would result from it. Nevertheless, it would have been nothing more than poetic justice, considering how they treated me.
With nostalgia heavy upon my mind, I opened the top drawer of my vanity, and pulled out a small brush. I laid it in my palm, within which it fit entirely. It looked like nothing more than a children's toy to me now, and had lost all practical value as a grooming tool.
My cellphone beeped, indicating an incoming email and disrupting my thoughts. It was from my dating service, letting me know that Brian had checked in. This was important to women now. Most of the older dating services had seen a dramatic rise in women's enrollment with the virus. The insatiable needs of the modern woman had made them a veritable hunting grounds for the now ubiquitous female sexual predator.
Soon, men's participation in these established sites had plummeted, and an enterprising young woman had filled the gap with my current service. The new website had many dating "rules of engagement" for women that ostensibly protected male patrons. Though this would never
guarantee
safety, women wanting to establish a reputation as a gentlewoman who respected men could rely on dating partners to report good conduct. Personally, I had a perfect record, which certainly helped when I requested dates with men I had never met before.
