I had a quiet day, and then started to get ready for my date. Some makeup, and a carefully chosen outfit of a loose, boyfriend-style cardigan over a vest top, a below the knee denim skirt and brand new lace up thigh high boots. Well, why not? The skirt covers the top of them so they aren't too obvious.
It was a rotten night, cold and wet, so I was lucky to get a good parking space and we met at a bar near the cinema and had a drink (diet coke for me as I was driving). We chatted, we seem to get along very well, and then made our way up to a Chinese place for dinner, then on to the cinema. As soon as the lights went down I surprised him with a little kiss, one that became a long, lingering kiss, and we held hands in the cinema. Do you know how long it has been since I held hands like that in the cinema? And I mean proper, literal hand in hand holding of hands, it is not some MUA euphemism for sex, thank you very much. Not in a cinema. I mean, really!
The film was fun, (Zombieland, if you're interested) and certainly gave me plenty of moments to jump and get a wee cuddle. I do like a cuddle, in case you hadn't noticed. When it was over, there was then the question of what to do next.
What is there to do, at 9pm in a major city, that does not involve drinking, pre-booking, or pre-planning? Not a lot. We kind of walked aimlessly for a while trying to think of somewhere to go, and failing. The only feasible suggestion that came up was that we call it a night and go home... but neither of us really wanted to do that.
Texting is fun, isn't it? I find myself being unreasonably grateful for unlimited texts. I have a number of friends who text me frequently, and Malcolm and new guy text me more than frequently. I do always reply, though...
In texts, I had cheekily informed my date that he needn't get any bright ideas, for I was far too classy for car sex. On the other hand, I did wear thigh boots and sexy lace underwear, including knickers that tied on at the sides with bows. So I was walking the line of provocatively sexy and sensible behaviour.
With no other option presenting itself (bar going home alone) I suggested we go for a drive. I didn't really know where to go, so I went to one place that I thought of. Sadly, others had the same thought and it was less than private. We sat there in the car and had a very interesting discussion about how we would survive a zombie attack. I surmised (and maintain still) that in the event of such an attack, I would swiftly join the ranks of the living dead. I wouldn't stand a chance. So after some further discussion, it has now been agreed that should a zombie attack take place, my date would make me his priority and save me before anyone else. Well, I'll sleep better knowing that THAT's take care of.
We drove on, rather than spend the entire evening commenting on the odd behaviour of two boy racers who seemed to be trying to park their cars as close together as possible. As we drove, an idea occurred to me - a back road, deserted, that I used to take sometimes going to work. Although it was dark, and confusing at night, I had a look for it. We ended up tucked away somewhere very very private, and with the lights off, you wouldn't have known we were there at all. It was definitely discreet.
It didn't take very long for the kissing to start, and that was as much fun as ever. My boots were investigated in detail, pronounced to be a success, and requested to be worn in bed at some point in the future. Worth every penny. My thighs got a bit of a looking over as well, and his hand crept most insistently into my underwear, teasing my clit, rubbing it just hard enough to create that intensity that is slightly off an orgasm but almost unbearable, taking me agonisingly close and stopping just before I could take no more, and telling me this teasing was the punishment I got for text teasing throughout the week.
My cardigan was removed as the car started to heat up and the kissing and touching continued, stroking, teasing, investigating...... very erotic, especially in such a confined place. I pulled the little lever that reclined his seat back, and swung myself into his lap, a move that was well received. His hands roamed my backside, squeezing my ass-cheeks as we kissed, my hair in his face. He pulled my skirt up around my waist, and kissing my neck, untied the bows that held together my underwear, removing them and flinging them into the backseat. The teasing and touching continued, until neither of us could stand it, and he, checking that I was of the same feeling, slipped on a condom before I slid down on top of him. It was such a relief, we had both been craving it since we laid hands on each other, and I used my thighs and arms to support myself as I fucked him with everything I had. It was hard and furious, but at the same time intimate and gentle - the dichotomy of good sex. My vest top came off somewhere in the middle of all this, and he sucked my breasts as he pulled them free from my bra, touching me all over, feeling my ass and my legs and my body. Eventually, we were done, and I collapsed, laughing, into the driving seat again.
We continued to kiss and play for some time to come, the evening ended with my swallowing his cum twice, as well as feeling some pretty intense pleasure myself. As we kissed, his hand rested on my neck, around my throat. Not squeezing, just ... there. And he noticed that when his hand was there, I moaned a little more than usual. He asked me did I like to be strangled during sex, I explained it was not something I had ever tried or considered, I wasn't sure about it.
Looking back, I don't think the pleasure I took from that had anything to do with the violent notions of rough sex, or any desire to see how deprivation of oxygen can enhance sexual pleasure. It was entirely emotional; there is something very possessive and powerful about that gesture, the hand being around the neck, it denotes desire, possession and trust. I think that is what I liked. I couldn't have articulated that at the time, I have given it quite some thought since.
Eventually, though, it was time to go home. Still, a good time was had by all.
I must confess, I felt very naughty when I stopped at the supermarket on the way home for milk, to be wearing thigh boots and no knickers.
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