What a Good Bad Date


Introduction:
I had been single for so long and was trying to use apps to get into a relationship. It wasn’t working well. But this one went a bit different. Here’s the story.

There I was again, on a date. I have tried so many apps, and yes, I have tried it the old fashion way but I just don’t have time for that. Most of the time I agree to see someone that is advertised as in shape, but the person that shows up is fat or ugly, and they all say the same thing, “Oh that was taken a few years ago.” Now I don’t have a problem with fat or ugly people but when you lie, I have a problem with it. Just post the real you so that it is all out in the open. Ugh.

This guy and I had agreed to meet at a steak house. It was a chain, so you pretty much know what the place looked like already. All the floor plans are about the same in these places. We happened to be tucked away in the back, but I could still see the bathroom and kitchen. That was nice in case this guy turned out to be a creep, I could sneak away.

We showed up together and he was polite enough. He did all the normal things like opening doors for me and waiting for me to sit down. All of this had gotten so boring to me now. Every date was turning out to be the same. Honestly, it would have been nice to go out with an asshole at this point just to get some diversity in my life.

He was handsome, but boring. It’s nice to have something good to look at but it is not going to work if I don’t enjoy listening and being around you. He showed up in jeans and a sport coat. I remember the first date that I went on where the man was wearing that and I was excited, but now I just roll my eyes. He seemed to have a good enough job because he did talk about that for quite some time. Some office gig that really wasn’t as impressive as he was making it sound.

Our waiter came to the table and took our order. Now he was something to talk about. About 6 foot 1 or 6 foot 2 with black hair parted to one side. His eyes were dark and seductive. I don’t even think that he was meaning to, but he was giving me a look that was doing it for me. I returned the look as best I could trying to block out the rest of the world.

A close girlfriend of mine taught me a trick that has worked for me for years now. She said it’s the ‘fuck me’ look. It works best when you have all the smoky eye makeup on. When you look at someone, imagine doing everything dirty with them as you are looking them in the eyes. It took me a while to get it, but once I did it was obvious. There is just something that your eyes and face did when you were thinking about sex and exchanging eye contact. I don’t have to understand it to use it, thank God. I have also heard that if you can exchange 7 seconds of uninterrupted eye contact, it is the same feeling as seeing someone naked. I don’t know how much of that is true, but we had surpassed the 7 second mark and I was feeling it.

He had been telling me all about the specials for the evening as my mind was undressing this gorgeous man and fucking him right on our table.

“Would you like to start with something to drink?” he said in an Italian accent.

Everything that Hollywood had taught us was that Italians were more sexual by nature so this was a turn on as well.

I ordered a draft, and he nodded and turned to my date. I was angry with him for being present. I felt like the guy I was on a date with was hindering my chances with this beautiful stranger. It’s not his fault, but seriously, what an asshole.

“So, you’re a beer kind of woman.” He said as if he was proud of himself for having something fun to say.

I was proud of him for not continuing to talk about his job. And I have found that men need to be rewarded when they do something good or they will not do it again. It is funny how easily people can be manipulated in these small ways.

So, I smiled at him, (to make sure to let him know he had done good) and said, “Yes, I like drafts. I am not as big of a fan or bottles or cans. There is just something about the carbonation in a draft that I like over the rest.”

He barely let me finish before he excitedly started in, “I love beer! I love a woman that can drink beer too! I do not care if it is draft or bottle or can, just as long as it is beer


”

He started going on and on about the amount of beer he used to drink, and parties, and whatever else. I realized that this was a bust and started to make a plan for getting my ‘save me’ call, so I could get out of there.

After about 2 or 3 more minutes of him talking about frat parties, our beers showed up. It was very sad to see an attractive blond waitress drop them off. Nothing against her, but I was just looking forward to seeing my handsome Italian again. I pouted a little inside and grabbed my glass removed the orange and took a large pull on the drink.

“Yeah. That’s what I’m talking about.” My date said as he was childishly biting his bottom lip and raising his eyebrows up and down. I know he was trying to say that he thought he was going to get lucky tonight but didn’t have the balls to say it out loud. He couldn’t have been more wrong, but no need to tell him before he pays for dinner.

I just laughed as I tried to not even look at him. My eyes were frantically scanning the restaurant. My date’s failures had made me desperate to look at my Italian again. I had such a bad example in front of me that I needed to equal it out by seeing the opposite.

“Excuse me for a minute.” I said to him as I was already standing up. I didn’t even look at him before I walked away. I took a few steps away from the table and then I caught a glimpse of him in the kitchen. He was looking at me and nodding his head off to one side, like showing me something.

I couldn’t see what it was, but I was going to go anyway. I walked into the busy kitchen and although there were people everywhere no one noticed me because of the confusion. I walked to him and turned in the direction that he had nodded. It was a walk-in fridge that was cracked open. As I got close to it his arm came over my shoulder and opened it as I walked in.

It was cold and quiet. He had closed the door behind us, and it locked out the noise. Before I had the time to inspect the area I was spun around and his hands were in my hair and our lips were sucking and exploring each other. I ran my hands up his back and into his hair, squeezing this man.

I felt his hand run down my back firmly and on my ass. He squeezed hard and pulled me into his hips. I was shorter than him and that was evident by the fact that I could feel his erection on my stomach. I had decided to wear a sundress and tennis shoes, so without heels I was much shorter than him. I was glad for the shoes, so I did not slip in the fridge, and I was even more glad for the sundress making this night conveniently possible.

His hand glided around my hip and under my dress. I gripped his cock threw his pants as his palm started to push firm circles on my pussy. His hand was warm, and it felt heavenly in this cold room. The heat coming off him was being absorbed my me and turned into arousal. He gripped my pussy in his hand and owned it as I gasped for air.

I was able to get his zipper undone and release his rock-hard cock. I felt every inch of him with my hand and he was going to feel so wonderful inside me. I quickly leaned down and inhaled his cock as deep as I could go. I have never been able to take a man into my throat, but what I have found is that if I hold him as deep as I can, I will produce a wonderful lather of spit that can be very helpful in situations like I found myself in that day.

I held him at the opening of my throat a few times as I gagged lightly. I spit my natural lube onto him and jerked him once or twice to spread it around, and looked back up at him. He bent his knees and grabbed one of my legs and pulled it up high. I still had one foot on the ground, but he was pretty much holding me up. I wrapped one of my arms around his neck and felt him pushing on my panties with his member. His arm that was under my knees was being wrapped around my back and his other was on my ass pulling me in.

I used my other hand to pull my panties to the side as far as I could. As soon as the threshold was removed, he entered me. I felt his bulbus head spread me apart and bore it’s way in. His hard shaft was unrelenting as it propelled his mushroom all the way in, so that he was filling everything that was me. He felt out of this world because of the cold room that we were in. His cock felt hot, figuratively and literally. I could feel his heat under my dress and on my stomach.

He was squeezing my whole body with every pump. This man was strong, and he was using me to fuck himself. I do not know if I was doing any of the work. I was thrusting my hips forward, but he was strong enough that I didn’t need too, and it would not have slowed him down at all. I let my grip on his neck go and I did not fall in the least. His arms around my back were supporting me completely.

I placed my hands behind me on a rack of some kind and used it as leverage to push into him harder. This did the trick for me because I was able to create enough pressure to manipulate my clit on his skin. I knew he had shaven a few days ago because I could feel his stubble on my sensitive little bean. I embraced it and was owning my orgasm. I started to feel that amazing tingling inside me. The waves were powerful and unexpected. I felt my leg that was on the ground hanging now. As the overwhelming feeling of orgasm high came over me, my body went limp and my hands slipped off the rack.

I don’t know if I lost consciousness or not, but I went from holding myself up to being held in the air and moved to the rhythm of my Italian without remembering the transition. I was laying back in his arms and watching him stare down at his cock penetrating me. His focus was intense!

I reached down and pulled my dress up so he could focus more, and he looked up at me surprised, almost like he had forgot I was there. Then I realized that face was not surprise, it was his build. He was starting to lose his rhythm. His hips were starting to shake. His eyes closed tight.

He released his hold on my leg and I put both of my feet firmly on the ground, for the first time in minutes. His cock popped out of me and I reached down and wrapped my fingers around him and stroked it from hilt to head as he shook. Both of his hands went into my hair and had tight handfuls. The force felt so good and primal. I felt a bit of a tingle in my loins as he did it.

As he came, blast after blast, I could feel it thrusting its was underneath my fingers. Feeling what was happening inside his body through his skin was an erotic feeling in itself. I gripped the base of his cock and rubbed firmly as he was washed over with his aftershocks.

He opened his dark brown eyes and I was already looking at him. Our breathing matched up for a few seconds. I just smiled up at him and started to place his cock back inside his pants. He released his grip on my hair. As his zipper was being replaced to its upright position, I felt his finders snap my panties back in place.

I stepped back once and ran my hands down my dress as if to get any wrinkles out and looked up at him again and nodded once. He made sure his zipper was up and nodded at me. I turned and we walked towards the door. His arm came over my shoulder opening it for me as I walked out. I smiled to myself knowing that we had exited the same way we entered.

I walked out to the left and did not look back. I got to the table and decided there was no reason for me to stay here. I grabbed my glass and finished my beer without sitting down.

“Is everything alright?” My date said looking up now with 2 empties and a full beer in front of him.

“I’m great, but I am going to go home now.” I said reaching into my purse.

“Don’t be like that.” He said in a voice that proved he could not drink nearly as much as advertised without being a bit of a dick.

“Have a good night.” I said to him as I lay a 20 down on the table and said, “This is for the beer.”

“No no no, I got it. It’s fine.” He said very irritated.

“Then it’s for the waiter.” I said smiling very big inside.

I walked away and out of the restaurant feeling very content. I felt like I was on a drug. The warm night air was washing over my skin as it was still trying to normalize from the air of the fridge. It was like I was wrapped up in it. I got into my truck and turned on the heat. When I finally caught a glimpse of myself my hair was a mess. I’m glad my date was already tipsy when I came back to the table or he would have known what had happened, for sure.

I thought about my Italian all the way home. What a wonderful sexual experience. What a wonderful date, I said to myself laughing. I now knew, if any date in the future picked that restaurant, it probably wasn’t going to work out well for them.


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