When last we'd left off, I'd gone on 3 fun and lovely dates with Trucker Joe but hadn't had even the slightest of kisses. I had, however, managed to pluck up the courage to confront him and as it turned out he definitely was attracted to me. In the meantime, I had horrible not-sex-but-he-came with a local dude who for all his sexual (and personal) failings, managed to help me take the pressure off Trucker Joe. We'd both been busy over the long weekend and now it was Tuesday, the day of our big date.
Around noon I get a text message: Almost Home
I do really love the way he communicates and keeps me apprised of things. He texts again later with his address and then when I arrive, he comes out to the car to get me (real gentleman shit). I'm wearing black gladiator sandals, denim mini skirt, and a white rocawear-gold-chain-across-the-ample-cleavage shirt. With all the weightloss, my wardrobe is limited with things that still fit not to mention this is our 4th date and I'm running out of outfits he hasn't seen yet. Plus it's fucking hot as hell outside--muggy, sticky, hot and sweaty.
Inside his townhouse we chat while he finishes up with making dinner. Before our date I told him I pretty much eat everything, I mean what are the chances he'd serve something I don't and then came the question that made me a liar: Do you like lamb? he says. And like I absolutely do not but he sees the look of distress on my face and quickly adds, Don't worry, I got chicken too. And if that isn't a super low bar but also extremely cute that he's so prepared.
So, I mean, can you barely take it? After 3 dates of nothing sexual and I mean can you barely fucking stand it? All this chatter about food and shit and you're reading and thinking like...get to the fucking good stuff lady! All in good time. All in good time *wink*.
So we eat dinner and it's actually really good. We sit on his couch, side by side, watching Hell's Kitchen and talking about our weekends before deciding to watch Batman: The Dark Knight. We turn off the lights and watch the movie sitting side by side on the couch like fucking teenagers, high school kids who are shy, not even touching and it's all I can do to pay attention to the movie instead of the voice in my head willing him to kiss me: Make a move. Make a move. Make a move. Time tick tick ticks past ever so slowly. The movie is good and all but not better than making out would be. Everything feels so tense and I'm filled with nerves. I take a break to go to the bathroom and when I come back he'd paused the movie. We continue to watch the movie, I continue to hold my breath. My arm slips down in between us.
Sorry I say. UUUGGHHHH!!! Sorry? Did I just fucking apologize for touching him like we're not on our fourth goddamn date?! I swear that in between us is some kind of quicksand, slowly pulling our arms and hands together, closer and closer, but like it's going so slow that you can barely notice it. My arm slips or I move or something. Touch again. And pull away. Oh my god what am I doing. Just touch him already. Just touch me already. I can barely stand it. And then. It happens. Like that moment when you hold out your finger to a baby. Just kind of nudge it against it's hands. And then suddenly. It latches on. My fingers. Dangle. Next to his skin. And then. Latch. And his hand is wrapped around mine. Touching. Touching. My god, we're finally touching. I'm not sure hand holding has ever been so sexy, but it is. The movie continues to play (I think). If I'm being honest, I haven't been paying attention in quite awhile. I've been too busy staring at his hands, his crotch, his every moment that might touch me. Our legs are stretched out onto the coffee table and as I tilt mine up, his hand touches my thigh. Electric. Maybe he says something or maybe he just shifts and it draws my attention, honestly I can't remember, but I turn and look at him. And we kiss. Soft. Sweet. Delicious. And I can't lie, it's not perfect, and it's not flawless (but kissing rarely is) except that after a little while, our kissing becomes flawless because unlike all the other "somethings", he's paying attention and he adapts to me. Our pace syncs, and he learns I like the bottom lip suck and he learns I like it soft and slow at first and then more passionate as it progresses.
At some point we come up for air and the credits are rolling, movie over. But he's got night shifts all week and needs to stay up as late as possible to get his sleep schedule in check and if there's one thing I'm good at, it's keeping a man up at night.
We pick another movie from his stack. And for a little while we watch the movie, though our hands are still holding, skin still touching.
Hot. Sticky. Tuesday. Delicious. About halfway through the movie, he makes his move again, and this time it starts soft and sweet and moves right into hot and heavy. His kisses feel like my kisses. His tongue moves like my tongue moves. We're mirrors, in sync when it's right, opposites when it's better. His hand slides up my thigh. I push it away. I tell him with my eyes and a little bit my words. I like stages. He gets it. He's not getting that tonight. I don't really know how to describe what happens next because it's not normally what I'm into. We're still on the couch but he's sort of moved to right in front of me and we're still kissing and he's coping a feel with one hand but it's the other hand, the one that's sort of behind my head that I'm thinking about. Because it's not all mixed up in my curls and it's not going in for a tug or controlling...it's...it's...it's just like supportive like he's got me. And it's wild how hot I find it.
Things continue to get friskier (or, as frisky as things can get while everyone is keeping their clothes on--after all this is still only our first kiss so I'm not really looking to fuck...tonight). That said, I explore enough with some over the pants action that I know I won't have to worry this will be a Twitter Guy or Lindsay Law micropenis type situation and somewhere around 230am we come up for air.
I tell him that it's time for me to go and he walks me to my car. He kisses me again at my car and honestly I can't help but think how much I'm enjoying this time together and how maybe waiting for a first kiss isn't so bad after all.
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