The Date

I had wanted to get a little into my weekend w Harley.  However, now that I'm actually sitting in front of the laptop writing, I feel more like writing about my date last weekend.

 

The entire evening was a bit surreal to me.  Many factors contributed to that feeling, but the first might be the most difficult to understand - "dates" are kind of rare for me.  Obviously, I go out.  As I think about it, it's hard to explain how it felt different.  What felt weird was that I wasn't expecting him to ask me out.  In most of my dates, I either hinted pretty strongly or I just asked myself if they'd like to do something.  Another weirdness was that he planned everything.  Except for what time he was picking me up, I had no real clue what to expect.  Okay, he had said dinner so I was expecting food.  Guys, a little hint here, girls hate not knowing what to wear.  This is where he did another unexpected act - he texted me the day we were to go out saying that since I had to dress up every day for work, that he was thinking casual.  Rachel was going to get fed and Rachel knew what to wear - Rachel was happy.

 

This brings me to the last point of weirdness.  I don't like admitting that I have a "type", but I'd be lying to myself.  Most of the men in my life, even the Boyfriend, have a very athletic build.  My date was not the athletic looking sort.

 

Enough of the weirdness, what about the actual date part of the date.  He picked me up at home.  I had offered to meet him somewhere, but I have also come to learn some guys are pretty sensitive on picking their date up at home.  I felt safe w him, so had no issue w his coming to my house.  I decided to wear my favorite jeans; my favorite pair because they make my ass look fantastic.  I also wore a sexy pair of heels w a reasonably skimpy blouse.  I was pretty sure he'd be impressed.  We went to a casual steakhouse.  I love steak.  I think he was nervous because he never shut up.  I have known him through work for years and never known him to say more than a few words.  He was a bit manic telling funny story after story.  He kept me smiling and I learned a little bit about him.  He may not have looked it, but he was quite the athlete in school playing offensive lineman during high school and college.  Between football and his grades, he was able to score a small scholarship to a small college.  A few serious relationships w one being really serious . . . right up until he found her sleeping w his best friend.  His secret desire is to write a novel.  He's started dozens, but never finished a single one.  I was able to commiserate w him on this.  I told him that I'm great w beginnings, its ending that I suck at.

 

We walked over to a nearby "World of Beer".  It was a place to sit and talk.  I was pretty sure he was getting more comfortable when he slowed down w the manic monologue and began working on getting me talking.  There was also a theatre nearby and we rather impulsively decided to take in the last showing.  I love going out to the movies.  I just don't do it very often because I don't go by myself.  I had never been to this theatre before and it was awesome!  Okay, not trying to bore you w the trivial details, but this is leading to something.  It had been good evening and I was feeling playful.  During the movie, I hooked my arms around his arm and leaned into him.  Of course, the playful part was getting into just the right position so that my breasts pressed into his arm.  A little later, he used his other arm to cup my face and tilt me up for a kiss.  I hadn't seen that coming!!!  I like a man that just does.  A little more time passed and I hadn't noticed that he hadn't moved his other arm back, instead keeping it on mine.  And I nearly missed it at first, it was so soft and subtle.  His fingers were ever so gently caressing my breast.  It was actually kind of cute.  He was so daring w his kiss and being cautious at copping a feel.  After a bit, when his it was obvious I had to be aware of his touch, I pressed into him some.  He took that as silent permission, which it was, to continue.

 

The evening ended w his driving me home and walking me to my door.  And yes, we kissed again.