The thing about first dates is that the awkwardness is inevitable for the first couple of minutes, or the whole time if you are both introverts.
Luckily for me, holding a conversation comes naturally and so the awkward silence is only temporary. My exuberance always comes in handy when I intend to get a girl in bed, something I wear like a badge of honor. But if I am being honest, when I placed the two soft knocks on her door, I was giddy with nervous anticipation and I almost didn’t hear her answer.
Ella, the girl who invited me to her apartment today, is determined to make this as painless as possible. She made sure to have some of my favorite movies and popcorn. However, my eyes are transfixed on her body and not the T.V. Like I am in a trance.
She is cooking dinner and is wearing a black form fitting dress beneath the apron. Any other girl would have been embarrassed of showing the flesh around her waist but not Ella. She strikes me as someone confident about her body. From her endowed chest to the big ass, the Caucasian stranger I met on Plenty of Fish is exactly who I pictured to be. Sexy. Classy. Fun. Authentic.
Our friendship began two weeks ago when I gave her my number and soon we were sharing our Face book usernames. She was cool to chat with which might be because she is older than the girls I am used to. In her late twenties probably.
“Want something to drink?” She replaces the lid and faces me. “Wine, perhaps?”
I somber up quickly, embarrassed to be caught staring. “Water is fine. Thank you.”
Ella nods and her attention is back to the food. She serves us shortly after and when I take my first bite of the pasta served with beef ragout, I am impressed by her cooking skills. I wonder how her body must taste like. I can’t wait to find out.
“This tastes divine,” I comment and I am rewarded with a beautiful smile that makes her big eyes dance seductively. Even her brisk laugh is turning me on.
An hour later when we have both washed down the food with wine and finished the movie, I decide it’s time to leave. Anytime from now, mom will call Jere and realize I am not with him.
“This has been awesome. I barely noticed the time pass,” I say meaning every word. I then rise from the couch and Ella slips her hand in mine, and walks me to the door.
“I agree,” she says and I detect a note of sincerity in her tone. “We should definitely have more dates.”
As Ella talks, I watch her pink lips move, trying to memorize them. And when she leans in for a hug, it takes all my strength not to ambush her with a kiss. The sweet smell of her perfume mixed with the natural scent of her body takes breath away, sending all kinds of sensations to my groin. Her boobs are so full and tender against the fabric of her denim jacket. Begging me to caress them.
The effect she has on me takes me by a surprise. I am hard as a rock imagining how her silky hair will feel in my fingers as I invade her mouth my tongue. Kissing her senseless. I can picture her hardening nipples trapped between my finger tips as I pinch them. Will she get wet from me simply nibbling them? The sounds she will make, will she say my name each time I tease the cleft between her legs and bring her to an orgasm?
And I can’t resist letting my hands fall to her hips and cup her ass. So soft. I wonder if she likes to be spanked.
Damn. Ella, what are you doing to me?
“What the fuck do you think you are doing?” Ella exclaims, snapping me to the present. She detangles herself from me with such force that if I didn’t know better, I would have thought someone else, a boy, was doing the shoving. In fact, I almost lose my balance.
“What’s wrong?” I am unable to mask my surprise at the abrupt turn of events. “I thought we were getting along well. Is it something I said? I…I don’t understand.”
The expression on her face is unreadable… something that resembles disappointment. Or is it disgust?
“You wanted this…” I gesture back and forth at the space between us, drawing out the words slowly. “Us. Right?”
“You don’t get it.” Ella throws her hands in the air out of exasperation, her brown eyes flaring with anger. Her cheeks are flushed and hell, she looks even sexier when she is mad. “You are all the same. Just because I have been blowing up your phone with text messages doesn’t mean I want to hook up on the first date, pervert.”
“I’m sorry.” I flash her crooked grin that always seems to melt girls’ hearts and get me back on their good graces. But even I know I am grasping at straws. Ella is no ordinary girl. I have lost my only shot.
“Leave my apartment right this second or I am calling the police,” she spats, indignant. I have no choice but to let the door click shut behind me.