We talked several times on the phone in between text messages. I found myself thinking things that everything logical in the world tells me I shouldn't be thinking yet my inner hopeless romantic wants to dance on the edge of the cliff anyways. And then my not so inner socially awkward moron says them out loud. This man is a walking library filled with my favorite words. He hasn't run screaming yet. I guess that's a plus.
Then came the night we met:
He warned me that he wanted to rub my leg on the drive and asked if I'd let him. I kept trying to act nonchalant about the whole thing and act like I was a good girl. And I am, for the most part. I can behave. I know how....I mean, I might pull a tendon and pop a blood vessel, but I can do it.
I was a wreck the entire day at work. I knew exactly what I was going to wear but I changed my shoes 3x and then when it came time to leave changed my mind again. And of course I made the decision to wear a pinup style halter dress on the most blustery day in November. I still managed to look cute even with the wind trying to make a fool out of me. He was already doing a wonderful job of that.
He walked through my door with a look on his face that I couldn't read...anticipation but extremely confident in a way that wasn't cocky about it. Maybe a little cocky. Instant goosebumps. I still get them when I think about that exact moment.
I was not expecting him to drive the kind of car that he does. A Lincoln. Given some background information it sort of makes sense, but still not really. Sturdy, reliable, timeless. Oddly comforting and sexy.
It is so fortunate for us all that we don't have something I can only describe as a mental screen projector, just showing everything we're thinking right out in the open for all the world (and him) to see. I had so much going through my head and without fail one look my mind went totally blank. He'd look away just to start the racing up again.
Conversation with him is weird and wonderful and unsettling and right where I know I want to be, almost like a long lost friend that I've been missing all this time.
We went to a little hole in the wall place that is amazing and had dinner. We both hate cooked green peppers to my dietary relief. I've never had a dirty martini with pickle brine, I am now hooked. I had a steak quesadilla, he had the mac & cheese at my suggestion.
We talked about a lot of random things. I do recall how I felt. I do recall being blown away that he was into much of the same things that I am into. He had seen my pictures that I have on my Fetlife page of the modeling that I do for fun and said that he enjoyed doing that kind of thing himself. Oh who the fuck am I kidding? I was so ridiculously gaga and so busy trying not to say something stupid that I barely remember half of it.
Then we left. The second both of our feet hit the sidewalk he gave me a grin and before I knew it I was back to the building in his embrace losing my sanity and finding it all at the same time in the Holy Grail of dating moments. Purse to the ground, my arm automatically reached up to seal the deal. I was gone.
I don't know what I was thinking (frankly I wasn't, at all.) but something was said and before I knew it I didn't have the top of my dress on anymore and he was sucking on my nipples so perfectly that I didn't care that we were in a parking lot. The way we kissed made me giddy. I saw his face aglow in a way that you look when you have won something. Nobody has ever looked at me like this before.
Things continued on and before we knew it his car seat and my dress were soaked and two hours had passed. It was like we were on the cusp of being two kids who had no idea what they were doing and two porn stars knowing exactly what would bring out the intense waves of heat out of the other. Taylor Swift's "Wildest Dreams" is one of the songs I remember playing on the radio. That moment is the only thing I can think of whenever I hear it.
That was not the end of the evening.
