Taing It Further

We finally agreed to meet. After weeks of tiptoeing around the idea online, our shared sense of humour, mutual interests and curiosity got the better of us. I, for one, never imagined that I could even join an online dating service, let alone throw my well developed sense of caution to the wind by agreeing to meet a total stranger. Because, despite the hundreds of emails and tens of telephone calls that passed between us since the initial "wink" online, what did I really know about you? Only what you had chosen to tell me. It could all have been, at best, fantasy, and at worst downright lies on your part. "So what!" you think, everything I wrote or said could have been embellished or exaggerated too. Well, it could, but it wasn't. After extricating my self from my marriage to a controlling, compulsive liar, I had no time for dishonesty. Everything I posted online, everything I wrote and all that I said were truth. This was me, warts and all as Cromwell said. If you were still interested after that then there might just be some point in taking the relationship further. Interesting that it was only now, as I waited for you to arrive, that it occurred to me you might not have been quite so candid.

The wine bar isn't busy. It's that time between the post work libation and the evening out. I managed to arrive early. Not by design, usually the journey to this part of town would take much longer but fate conspired to ensure every connection was almost instantaneous and so, here I am, nervously perched on a bar stool trying to talk myself out of doing a runner before you turn up. Just as I'm about to leave the barman comes over smiling and asks me what I'd like. I notice him for the first time. He's not bad looking. Tall and well built with thick wavy blond hair, bright blue eyes and a cheeky smile. Really rather easy on the eye. I decide to stay, a drink wouldn't hurt and anyway, you might not come. If you were anywhere near as nervous as I, you probably wouldn't.

The barman returns with my glass of wine and hangs around to talk to me. It's a welcome distraction. Nervousness makes me chatty. I ask him how long he's worked here, whether it gets busier later, if he likes working in the bar trade? He asks me why an attractive woman like me is alone. I tell him I'm waiting to meet a friend. He asks if it's been a long time since I last saw my friend as I seem a little nervy. I confess that although we've corresponded and talked on the 'phone, until now, we've never actually met. He raises an eyebrow but says nothing. I take a large gulp of my wine; nervousness also makes me thirsty, and ask the barman for the time. He checks his wristwatch and informs me that it's seven fifteen. Catching my look of concern he asks what time we were supposed to meet. I tell him fifteen minutes ago and drain my glass. He offers me a refill, which I accept and begin to drink.

I hear the door to the wine bar open. A belt of adrenaline hits my solar plexus. I can't see who comes in because the bar is along the back wall and I'm facing that wall, away from the door. That wasn't well thought out on my part. I can't bring myself to turn around and look; I am frozen to my seat. Then I hear a burst of laughter and animated conversation from the small group who just came in. They make a lot of noise as they choose a table and settle themselves in discussing what to order and who was doing what with who at the office. Not you then.

The barman deals with the groups order and comes back to offer me another refill. I hadn't noticed I had finished my second glass already. I smile and nod; he fills my glass and checks his watch again. "Seven twenty-five," he says, "looks like you've been stood up. Tell you what, my shift finishes in an hour. If you like we could grab something to eat afterwards and ......." And then I hear my name spoken softly close behind me, the familiar voice a caress that sends a thrill down my spine. I catch my breath and swivel slowly round on my barstool until my gaze rests on your face. I breathe your name and welcome you with a smile, all trace of doubt or nervousness swept away by your presence and the openly appreciative smile playing on your lips. You start to speak an apology for you tardiness but I silence you by placing a finger softly on those full sensuous lips. I shake my head, "No need to apologise, I've been well looked after." The attentive barman grins and asks you what you would like to drink.

We retire to a secluded table at the back of the bar with a bottle of Baunne and proceed to talk. You pour the wine and we sip between sentences and easy laughter. I can't take my eyes off you. I drink you in along with the wine; your dark, dark sparkling eyes, your open ready smile. The conversation is animated and easy and I feel completely comfortable with you. I am aware of your maleness, your firm body beneath the crisp cotton of your shirt. I can see your nipples, hard through the fabric and I ache to touch you and to be touched by your strong tapered hands. My skin flushes and a slow fire begins to burn in my groin. I breathe deeply through just parted lips. You seem to sense my arousal and lean toward me to whisper, "I want you too," as you trail the fingers of your right hand over the back of my left where it rests on the table between us. The touch is electric and I breathe sharply in at the sensation. I notice how dry my lips are and moisten them with the tip of my tongue. You read this unconscious invitation and, smiling, lean in to kiss me as your fingers trace their way up the skin of my forearm. I give myself up to your kiss, deep, sweet and ultimately searing.

We separate after an eon and with unspoken understanding, rise from the table and leave the wine bar together. Once outside, I turn to you and say, "I hate to sound clichéd but, your place or mine?" You laugh and say, "Come with me." I take your proffered hand and we turn and walk together toward the nearby tube station. I need to kiss you again. As we pass a small passageway I pull you down it and press you against the wall. I cup your cheek with my right hand and start to kiss you, softly at first, paying full attention to each lip, applying tiny individual kisses on and around each of your warm soft lips as my left hand traces the contour of your chest and down and around to your back and buttocks that tighten under my touch.

I insinuate my tongue between your lips and you open your mouth to accommodate me. Our tongues touch then dance as our lips lock together in an increasingly passionate embrace. I press the entire length of my body against yours pulling your hips closer into mine with my hands cupped around your tight arse. I can feel your cock hardening between us and I raise my left leg, sliding my knee up the outside of your thigh until I wrap my leg around you to pull you closer still and rub my pubis against your burgeoning erection.

I can't help myself; I want you so badly. I relinquish your mouth, unwrap myself from your body and sink slowly to my knees before you. You groan with pleasure and place your hands on either side of my head as you realise what I am about to do. I release your throbbing tumescence from its confines and gently take the head into my hot mouth. I tease with my tongue and use both hands to steady and stroke your smooth hard shaft. I start to suck gently on your member and set up a rhythmic motion with my head, taking you deep into my mouth at every forward movement. Soon you begin to thrust in time with the motion of my head, fucking my mouth and I know you will very soon reach orgasm. I suck a little harder, allowing my teeth to intermittently gently graze the shaft of your penis and you gasp and grab my hair, immobilising my head as you come, volcano like, deep in the back of my throat.

I hold your cock in my mouth until your erection subsides, then I gently try to return it to your trousers. You stop me, taking both my wrists in your hands and pulling me upwards to a standing position. You kiss me, hard, and tell me to turn around. I comply and you push me forward until I am bending over facing away from you with my hands resting against the wall to steady me. My breath comes in laboured gasps. Your left hand on the small of my back feels like fire. You run your right hand up my legs, under my skirt, pushing it up. I can feel the cool night air on my hot thighs. I part my legs slightly, inviting your attentions. You slide your hand between my thighs and caress my sex through my panties. The gusset is wet with my desire and I whimper and push my hips back onto your exploring fingers, desperate for you to stimulate me further. You slip the thin material of my panties aside and expertly locate the nub of my need with skilled fingers, slick with my own juices. You apply exquisite pressure and friction to my clitoris. I begin to moan softly and draw shuddering breaths as my excitement mounts. I start to push myself back hard against your hand and circle my hips in my frantic efforts to maximise the sensation and propel myself toward orgasm. I am so wet. And just as I am on the brink of coming, you plunge your newly hard cock deep into my throbbing cunt and I come, screaming your name as you thrust into me hard and fast before joining me in blessed release.

We help re-arrange each others clothing and then gently hold each other until our breathing has returned to near normal. We then step back into the streetlights of the main road, checking to see if anyone noticed anything. Thank god London is such an anonymous city, anywhere else and my scream would have solicited some unwanted attention. I catch your eye and we smile and head toward the tube. I have a good feeling it's going to be a very long night.