There I sat, on top of the worktop of his kitchen island waiting in anticipation and wondering how I ended up in there. When I first saw him I never thought I would end up here. Bra-less in the kitchen of a man I barely know.
Two days before we had our first date due to my friend. It seemed that she had made it her mission to bring us together and like two teenagers we fell in her trap. For weeks he passed my desk at work, we nodded, greeted one another and I wore the friendly smile you wear around a stranger. He had called me when I was still at work, asking me what my plans were and made himself part of my schedule of that day. I had always loved it when men made decisions like that so I agreed to meet him.
Our first date was a success, probably my longest first date I ever had, without feeling long. I was conflicted, I had told myself not to go home with someone on a first or second date, but here I was waiting on him to appear and technically it was still our second date.
Sitting in silence, staring at my bra laying lifelessly on his wooden floor that he had ably taken off without taking off my shirt. Even though I was so aroused, I was still hesitating if I should stop this all now I still could. That hesitance lasted but a moment and it passed as quickly as it appeared as he came back. He opened my legs and stepped between them, staring in my eyes with lustful eyes and kissed me while his hands trailed my warm skin. His presence felt like a calming warmth, comforting.
Was it time to let this desperate animal inside of me free? It had been so long since the last time someone touched me that it clouded my judgment even more, but for some reason everything felt natural with him. Completely primal as my tongue slid between his parted lips. Hands grasped, exploring new terrain as his caresses grew more demanding and so did my lust.
The warmth of his breath against my soft skin as he was leaving a trail of kisses on my collarbone made my knees feel weak. Inside I trembled, like a ripple on a pond, increasing with every small kiss or touch. Would he notice that my breathing became deeper and that my heart was pounding?
He led me to his living area and stopped me in front of his couch. I twisted just enough to allow him a glimpse of my voluptuous ass and I could feel how much he liked this, me standing there not knowing what the next step would be. How did this almost stranger to me make my body so impatient to his touch?
His hands slipped under my shirt, running over my warm bare skin. He slowly went up from my hips to my waist where he paused for a brief moment before he found his way to my small breasts.