I giggled nervously as I broke out in a sweat all over, my skin prickling.
He jumped out of the vehicle quickly and dashed around to my side. He opened the door and reached up for me. I could have easily stepped down on my own—my skirt would allow that direction—but I wanted his hands on me.
I clicked off my belt and moved sideways in my seat.
He took his time picking me up and setting me on the ground.
I slid my hand into his and we walked into the restaurant, hands clasped. Just like that, things got romantic.
* * *
Things stayed romantic all through dinner. We had nice wine, great food, and conversation. He was a good listener, enjoying my stories, which said a lot about him. I have this one anecdote, about a rather spectacular bike-riding accident I had when I was twelve. I'd tried to go over a skateboarding ramp on my pink bicycle and ended up with stitches. Some people laugh when I tell this story. Trevor gasped and held his hand over his mouth in horror. Even if he'd laughed at me, I probably still would have wanted to f**k him, but I would have felt conflicted. As it was, his kindness and compassion made me want to blow him right there in the restaurant, just for being such a great date.
He told me about his pet ferret he'd had growing up. He showed me some photos he'd scanned in and put on his phone, and I just about died from the adorableness.
As he thumbed through the photos, I asked him to stop and go back a picture.
It was him, shirtless, about to go white water rafting, by the look of it.
“Lemme see that!” I said, trying to get the phone away from him.
He pulled the phone away and acted embarrassed, but he caved and showed me the pic of himself, shirtless. He was hairy, yes, but he still had a lot of skin visible. Not too hairy. Not too hairy at all!
Seeing the image turned me on. My panties were getting a nice little flooding from the photo alone, and I'd be a waterfall for sure, if only he'd kiss me.
I flicked over to the next image on the roll, looking for another angle of him shirtless, and the next image surprised me. I was speechless as I stared at a picture of Trevor, still shirtless, standing next to a girl who could have been me. She wasn't me, of course, but a girl who looked more like a sister to me than my real sister, Nikki.
“Who's that?” I handed the phone back to him.
“Oh, shit. That would be the ex. I thought I deleted all those.”
The idea of her, of this ex who had not yet been discussed, passed over the table like a dark cloud.
I waited for Trevor to say something about our striking similarity, but he didn't. She looked so much like me, or vice-versa, since she'd been first.
The waiter came, cleared the dessert plates, and refilled our coffee. I tried to shake the image from my head, but I couldn't un-see it.
Trevor said, “You already know all about my work, but I've no idea what you spend your days doing.”
“How long were you guys married?”
He jiggled the ice cubes in his near-empty water glass. “That's not first-date conversation material.”
“Has someone been coaching you?”
He avoided my eyes. “I've been talking about myself all night.” He reached under the table with one hand and grabbed my knee. “Let's talk about you. About what you want.”
Rather than pull back, I slid down in my chair, letting his hand move a little further up.
“I'm not sure what I want.”
He leaned forward as much as he could with the table in the way. “Do you want to skip the movie portion of this date?”
His eyes burned at me.
Yes, I very much wanted to skip the movie.
The hand moved forward, inching toward my moist panties.
His breathing changed, and I imagined that big lump in his pants getting bigger, growing for me.
I sat upright in my chair, his hand now resting on my knee.
Casually, I said, “We could watch a movie at … your place.”
He nodded. “I have a big TV.”
I slipped off my shoe and slid a stocking-clad foot up his shin and then between his legs.
“I bet it's enormous,” I said, licking my lips.
“It's a good size.”
“Probably bigger than any TV I've ever seen.” My toes made contact with the lump in his pants, and I ran the soft pad of my foot up and down his erection. “Enormous.”
His eyes fluttered closed then open and he cleared his throat. “My TV hasn't been watched in a very long time.”
I gently massaged his c**k with the sole of my foot, fascinated by how big it was getting. “Tonight may be a special night,” I said. “For your TV.”
He grabbed my foot as he looked me right in the eyes. He massaged my toes with his fingers as he pressed his hardness into my sole. With intensity, he said, “I don't know how long I'll be able to wait. My TV is dusty.”
“Let's go,” I said, pulling my foot away and backing up my chair.
He frowned and bowed his head. “Give me a minute.”
Of course, he didn't want to walk through a crowded restaurant with an enormous erection.
I stood. He'd already paid the bill, and I had an idea.
I pulled him to his feet and quickly turned around, pressing my backside into his hard bulge. I wrapped his arm protectively around my shoulder and said, “C'mon. Stick with me.”
“Like glue,” he said, and we walked out of the restaurant that way, with my hip protecting his modesty.
He kept bumping into the round of my ass and the small of my back with his hard cock, and I was nearly delirious with desire for him. I wanted to reach down into his gray slacks and hold it in my hands, feel its weight and heat.
We got out to the truck in the dark parking lot and he opened my door again. When he lifted me up, my hand went to his crotch and I squeezed at him.
He leaned in to give me a first kiss. He'd insisted we share each other's dishes over dinner, so neither of us would have to worry about our breath, and as he got closer, I was grateful for that. His lips met mine, and they felt like normal lips, then the beard and hair on his upper lip made contact.
The beard was actually soft—much softer than stubble.
He stood next to the truck, leaning in, and I sat in the passenger seat, leaning out, and we kissed, hesitantly at first. And then, he pressed harder against my mouth, his tongue thrusting into me hungrily, probing me.
I moved back and he moved forward. He reached down between my legs, pressed a button on the base of the seat, and the seat moved backward as the back reclined. The truck had a large cab with a second row of small seats in the back, and my seat nearly reclined to flat.
He climbed in the truck, still on my side, pulled the door shut, and shifted his body over top of mine. He was big, but the truck was big, too.