My last post came from my first “date” with Échantillon. He later treated me with a lovely selection of toys and equipment, though it came as something of a surprise, since he previously gave me very little inkling of the sort of thing he was into. I had a much better idea later, while standing on my tiptoes with my hands tied to a hook over the door frame.
I had a lot of fun with him, but when I saw him again things were a little…different. We met to see a movie, which got me all excited for hand jobs in the back row, but he picked a really good movie and then led me to a seat smack dab in the middle of the theater. I thought maybe he had his signals crossed, but happily got engrossed in the film, my feet on the seat in front of me and my arms wrapped around my knees. Then about halfway in, his fingers tiptoed along my arm and grabbed my hand. Okay… I let him hold it for a while, but then I got bored with it and started stroking his thigh, figuring if he was going to distract me from fine cinema I might as well make it worth the while. He let it go on long enough for me to feel him getting hard through his jeans, but then tsked me and threaded his fingers through mine again. After a little while I think my derrière fell asleep.
On our way out of the theater he suddenly pulled me close and kissed me. “Yay!” I thought, ready to walk over toward his place. But just as I was about to say “take me home so I can taste your cock” he insisted on dinner. Fine. I wandered around with him, trying to think of the quickest place we could grab a bite. He suggested arepas, since I’d never had them. Good, great…at least it sounded like it wouldn’t take long. While standing in line to order I furtively grabbed at his belt. He chuckled and brushed my hand away. I tried not to fidget impatiently while waiting for the food.
Meanwhile, he insisted on getting-to-know-you talk, asking me about my family and my job and my interests and telling me all about his new apartment (awesome, I can’t wait to see it), and blah blah blah blah blah. As I blah blahed back to him it dawned on me that he was having a good time just hanging out with me. I settled down a little, laughing with him as I bit into the ridiculously full (but delicious!) taco-sandwich-thing and making eyes at him as I licked guacamole off my middle finger. In my haste to get to the sex I’d kind of forgotten that dates can be fun too.
I’m not wholly comfortable interacting with men unless we’re going tête à tête between the sheets, although I never really realized it until sitting across the table from this one. Face to face across a tiny little table, I got self-conscious and started squirming in my seat a little. I recognized that he was a little nervous too, that he wasn’t totally sure if I liked him or not. I resisted the inclination to alleviate his insecurity underneath the table and smiled instead. I reached across and touched his hand as I said, “Hey, I’m having a really nice time with you.” And I meant it. Suddenly, like magic, he smiled back and said, “Me too. Are you ready to go?”
