I don't believe in love at first sight.
Not for me, anyway. I need three dates. Exactly three.
The first date it's all physical attraction stuff. You know, tits, ass, face, eyes, butt. Shallow, but that's the way it is.
The second date is more cerebral. Conversation ability, opinions, beliefs, and so on. Of course, that first date stuff is interfering all over the place.
But it's the third date that matters. I mean, I can handle two dates with any girl on the planet, almost. But that third date is where it all happens. I've had time to consider the physical attraction, and the mental stimulation, and now I can just relax and be with the person. That's when I fall in love. It's only happened a couple of times before, and it didn't work out well either time, but this time I had high hopes.
So now you're saying, well who cares? You're a guy, aren't you? You have urges, right? So why aren't you telling me how you fucked her in the car on the way home, or spent the night in a merry meaningless shag at your place? Well, because I didn't, that's why.
It's not the way I do things. Oh, I've been there. I've had my share of desperate sex. And I'm not putting it down either. Even bad sex is good, but I wanted better. I wanted caring, tenderness, sensitivity. I wanted love. Sue me.
So here we were. I'd spent an evening at a restaurant with Sally, and two other friends. The archetypal double date. I'd never met her before, and was immediately impressed. She was twenty, a couple of years younger than me, and she was physically impressive. Seated at the table in tight jeans and a pale yellow tanktop, her nice breasts were displayed well, but not indecently, and her short black hair complemented her dark mysterious eyes, a contrast to her bright cheery smile, and sparkling voice. I have to mention her butt too. Perfectly wrapped in denim, it deserved an award.
See, I told you first dates were shallow.
Anyway, the dinner went well. The company was pleasant, as were the food and the wine. Dancing followed, and Sally's butt wiggled most impressively.
Eventually, I was driving her home in the early hours. Tired but happy. She was quiet most of the way home, and only got chatty when we got near her apartment.
"Zack, I had a great time tonight. You're a fun date."
"Yeah, I did too. Tell you what, I know the normal thing is to get your number and give you a call, but I'm not much for tradition. I can ask you now. Could we do it again? Just the two of us?"
"You want another date?"
"Yeah, why not?"
"I think I can manage that."
And that was that. I arranged to pick her up on Tuesday evening for a movie, with dessert at a nice café afterward. No, she didn't ask me in, and I wouldn't have gone if she did. Well, I might have, but I'd like to think I could resist. She kissed me before she got out of the car though. Just a peck. Nice.
So are you up to date with the plan then? This is Second Date (or D2) we're talking about. The idea is to find out all about Sally. What she thinks, eats, says, believes, likes, hates. Cerebral, remember? Hell of a word, isn't it?
So anyway, Tuesday rolled around, and work was so-so. I went home and had a quick meal, dressed in what I hoped was appropriate, and went to pick up Sally.
Now I know this is Second Date, but I have to tell you this. She looked gorgeous. Truly. Same eyes and hair (well, you'd expect that, wouldn't you?) but no jeans tonight. She was dressed in a short peasant dress, floral. Did I mention short? Now on some girls this would look like a sack, on others it brings the word 'whore' to mind, but not this girl. She just looked wonderful.
Enough of that. I picked her up and we headed for a suburban movie theatre in my car. We were going to watch a romantic comedy. Why? Well, it's the best compromise. You can't take someone you just met to an erotic masterpiece, or at least I can't. Action heroes are out, because you don't want to be seen in a bad light. Serious drama might just bore her silly, and you can't go to a serious romance, because that is plain psycho for this point in the relationship. That's Fourth Date stuff, anyway.
So how was the movie? It was alright. The company? Great.
Then it was supper time. This is the crunch for D2. We had dessert. Blueberry something-or-other. Nice, but I was preoccupied. Then coffee, and chat. I was overwhelmed, frankly. Sally had an opinion on anything that came up, but was never so fixed in her stand that she wouldn't listen. She was interested in everything, to say nothing of vibrant and vivacious. Those two words belong together, right?
So anyway, that got the big tick, at least from me. It was all feeling good, but I wondered how the flipside looked. After all, I got to spend the evening with a sexy, sparkling young lady. She only had me. She seemed happy enough though, so I just had to hope.
Eventually - and quite late - I drove her home again. This time we chatted all the way to her place, and she asked me in for a coffee. No, I don't know either. This could have meant 'coffee', or it could have meant 'fuck'. Either way, I was only up for the hot drink. Don't criticise until you see if it works out.
So we had coffee, and then I went home. Oh, she kissed me properly this time. Not improperly, but properly. Very nice. And then I arranged D3.
"Hey Sally, I had a great time tonight. That's the second time. I was wondering if I could stretch a point, and ask you again?"
"I was hoping you would. I had so much fun. You're great to talk to Zack."
See, that's what happens when you don't try to rape them in the theatre. Take note.
"That's a relief. Well listen, I have to work late tomorrow and Thursday, but what about Friday? We can have a nice dinner somewhere perhaps."
"That sounds great. Maybe after that we could go dancing again?"
"Yeah, that's a good idea. Best you give me another kiss so I don't forget."
"Uh huh. I can't say I'm against the idea, but don't make excuses."
"Okay. Please kiss me again. I like it."
And she did.
"Listen, um, would you like to stay?"
Ooh, that was where it got tough. But I was determined to stick with the original plan. "Ah, I know this will come out wrong, but no. I mean, I do want to. I really want to, but I don't think I should."
She looked very, very sexy then, and I desperately wanted to stay. My body was keen on the idea as well. I could tell from the pressure in my trousers. "I'm sure. I want this to be perfect when it happens."
"Oh, it's going to happen?"
"I want it to. But not now. It wouldn't be right. I better go."
"Okay. Jeeze, you're not very traditional, are you?"
"No, I'm not, but I better go, before I change my mind. I can't pretend I'm not tempted."
"Okay, I won't ask again. At least, not tonight." With a grin.
And I left. Now don't get me wrong. I've got a sex drive like anyone else. I wanted to stay. God, I wanted to. When I got home, my cock was still hard with the thought of it. I needed to take care of it so I could get some sleep, and I came so hard it hurt.
Friday took forever to arrive. I kept thinking about Sally, and the way she smiled at me. And how I turned down her offer. Work was busy thank goodness, and that helped considerably.
But eventually it was time to pick Sally up. As she opened the door, I realised just how beautiful she was. This time she was wearing a top and skirt. Very elegant. And sexy as hell.
We stopped for a kissing break at that point, and damn near didn't make it to dinner. Then I remembered my plan, and managed to distract myself long enough to make a break for the car, dragging Sally by the hand.
.... There is more of this story ...