First story, sorta nervous. Feedback and suggestions welcome!
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The Tinder date was solid. It was a few drinks. Good sign - no Budweiser was ordered during this time. He was hot, not an a-hole, and seemed to have his shit together (A car! A house!). When he messaged me a few days later, I was cautiously optimistic. But ice fishing? Really?! Okay, this was his idea of a fun second date. I could roll with it ("don't judge, stop judging," running through my brain). Look on the bright side, I decided, it was outside in public, so safe. If it sucked, I would claim to be freezing and ask to leave. I'd certainly done more boring things on second dates. There was that terrible one at the potato museum. Sadly, can't scrub that from my memory. He mentioned his buddy and his buddy's girlfriend might be out on the lake, it could be a way to get a better sense of him. Always good to check out the friends.
Date day has arrived. Sunny, mid-20 degrees, and luckily no wind. This might not be too bad. I spent an inordinate amount of time getting ready this morning, particularly for something where I'll be bundled in a winter coat and gloves. I'm excited to wear my new jeans. When I tried them on in the store, my friend swore that they gave me an ass she wanted to stick her tongue into. Always good to have friends that encourage bad behavior.
My fresh black mani/pedi and bikini wax at least boost my confidence. To add to that, I slide into my new black lace thong. I way overpaid for it, but come on, it has crystals that line the fabric rubbing against my pussy. I can surely skip a few lattes to have crystals in my cunt. No need for a bra, as we'll be bundled up. That said, I have been told that my breasts are one of my finer assets. I've had many a man be thrilled to cum on them.
Oh, it's time. He pulls up in front of my place. Range Rover. Nice ride can't complain. I jump in the car, give his arm a squeeze. We drive about 20 minutes, conversation flows smoothly. Chat about work, the music we like, favorite restaurants. He's funny, sarcastic. My kind of guy. We've arrived - big frozen body of water spread out in front of us. A lot of people out on this thing--some people by themselves with their sleds and supplies all around them. Small groups, two or three hearty souls. I see a few families, little ones sliding on the ice. A bunch of shanties as well. Guess people really get into this stuff. He says his buddy set up a shanty last night so we can stay warm.
Walking across the ice, the crunchy noise is almost soothing. Everything is glistening in the brightness of the day. The sun helps offset the cold. I use this time to get the download. The friend is from high school, name's Sean. Sean's girlfriend is Lydia, they've been together for about six months. He says Sean and Lydia met on Fling.com. Never heard of it, but if they've been together for a bit, it's more than a fling.
We get to a big blue shanty, maybe halfway across the lake. He pulls back the door, steps in. I can feel the heat and smell the sweet scent of weed. Might not be as dull as I thought. My eyes adjust to the dim shanty light. It's warm enough that Sean's jacket is tossed aside, he's wearing jeans and a zip-up hoodie. First thought -- nice ass. Sean's ripped, with ink showing under his sleeves and a cocky grin. He's got attitude. I like attitude.
Lydia is one of those "perfect girls," long silky black hair, a smile to light up a room. Damn, she's got amazing cleavage rising from her tight scoop-neck t-shirt. Ugh, I think she might have noticed me looking and arched her back a bit.
Me? I fall in the "cute" category, but I've never found a shortage of men who like their women with a side of wholesome. When they realize the things I like done to me in bed, or hell, anywhere for that matter, they are pleasantly surprised by the contradiction.
"She's not sold on this ice fishing thing, so you have to give her time to warm up," my date declares, nodding at me with a smile.
"Got the right stuff to start us off," says Sean, pulling a bottle of brandy from a cooler. This is Wisconsin, brandy is mandatory. We pass the bottle around. I'm nervous. The warm burn of the alcohol is soothing. The weed is the perfect accompaniment. I start to settle in, checking things out. There are two wide bunk-looking things, one on each side of the structure. A bunch of fishing gear is strewn around, but I couldn't care less about it.
Sean and Lydia sit on the right bunk. He's running his hand through her hair. Sean gets the conversation rolling, "Hey, sit down, relax. Just because we're on the middle of a lake in the dead of winter doesn't mean everything has to suck. Well, I do appreciate some things that suck," he says, with a smile at Lydia. There's that attitude of his coming through.