Our first meeting was at a coffee shop, which, as it turns out, was not far from your apartment - although I didn't know that when we made plans.
When you suggested we meet for the first time there, I thought, "Totally fair. You can't escape a bad dinner date as quickly as you can someone you've met for coffee."
I wasn't planning on being a bad anything that night.
I got there well before the appointed hour, because the butterflies - figurative, not literal - were fluttering in my stomach. We had talked on and off for five weeks now, but I still wanted to make a good first impression.
It may sound silly that a stranger on the Internet inspired me. But I had gone back to working out after the first night we talked. I was committed to shedding a couple of these "dad bod" pounds before our first time.
To borrow a lyric: I wanted to look good for you.
I thumbed my drink nervously as I awaited you walking through that door. I didn't have to wait long.
From the moment you graced the entranceway, I was certain it was you.
Dark, smooth shoulder length hair.
A face so radiant it could power this small bistro we found ourselves in.
A neck so tender I ached when I thought of how good it would taste between my lips.
Breasts - oh, there was no doubt you knew their power to bring men to their knees. The outfit you wore flattered them well, although I imagined they'd look good in a potato sack if you were for some reason forced to wear one.
Those thighs. Oh and that ass. As you walked closer, you were smiling. I almost missed it because I was gawking at the view.
My face matched yours in intensity.
"Hello!"
"Hi."
As we embraced, I felt a warmth on my face and a beautiful scent in my nose.
"Be cool," I thought. I tried not to shake. I briefly allowed myself to think about where the evening may lead us, and I felt a rush of blood and a tingle in my fingers, neck and face.
We started conversing as old friends might, "catching up" on the lives we had, until present, lived in ignorance of each other. No life is completely sunshine and rainbows, but I leaned toward what was good and tried to avoid triggering thoughts of any of life's various disappointments.
We laughed. You laughed - oh, how wonderful it made me feel inside to hear you laugh. It brought out that smile, the one in the first picture you ever sent me. I had a collection of pictures thanks to you. But there's always a special attachment to the first one.
I felt a chemistry between us and I thought you were feeling it too. Our online conversations had carried over into real life and we were acting comfortable.
"Hey, should we get out of here?" you asked, seemingly innocently - although I swear I saw a hint of smile forming at the corner of your mouth.
"Sure! What did you have in mind?" I asked, hoping the answer was "back to my place for mind-blowing sex."
"There's a place nearby that I think you'll like," you said. You were trying to stifle that cheeky smile, but it was there.
"Lead the way," I replied.
You grabbed my hand and we walked out together, out of the coffee shop and onto the sidewalk. My pulse was quickening and I loved the element of surprise.
We walked for a while, continuing to chat and holding hands. I was using my thumb to lightly stroke your hand. The sun had fallen and the streetlights were illuminating our walk. Even under the harshest, most unforgiving lamps, your beauty overwhelmed me.
At the point which was longer than an aimless amble, but less than "does she know where she's going?" we slowed down in front of a house.
"Well, this is me," you said.
"Oh, that was a nice walk," I replied. "Can I come in so we can continue our chat?"
