| Mature Fiction posted August 10, 2008 |
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Internet blind dateMa
Lady Di and Sir Dragon Heart.
by zeezeewriter
The author has placed a warning on this post for language.
The author has placed a warning on this post for sexual content.
Internet romance and blind dates; I know better, but it was late and he was begging me to meet him. After two months of hot internet chat it seemed reasonable.
First off, he's fifteen years younger than me. Well, really eighteen years, but I did the rounding-off thing in my favor. To make matters worse, he's a poet. I don't do poetry.
What if he recites a well known poem and asks me a question? What if he wants to discuss Wadsworthy or Emily what’s-her-name? I have no clue. I wouldn’t know an ode from a sonnet, unless of course it's tattooed on his ass, then I might make an effort to find out.
And what’s with his name … Virgil. What kind of person has a screen name of Sir Dragon Heart and a real name of Virgil? I wonder if the picture he posted is really him, and if it is, when was it taken? If it’s a new picture, why is he wearing a leisure suit?
I need to focus on his voice and the possibility of sex: I need sex, he’s a man, he has a penis, I have a vagina … albeit an old one, but still functioning.
(squeeze - release - squeeze - release)
I take deep breaths … check out the underarm area for swing and sway and try to hold my waddle up by sucking in my cheeks. OMG … I can’t do this.
My mind keeps rehearsing the possibility of him spending the night.
Keep the lights down low … no off.
Definitely ... the lights need to be off. The room should be pitch black.
I’ll tell him I’m sensitive to light, or maybe blindfold him. I'll tell him it is a kinky thing I like to do.
What if he sees me and changes his mind?What if he can’t get it up? What if I turn him off?
I won’t sleep with him on the first date ... no sex. I’ll play hard to get.
Maybe just a kiss, a cheek kiss; no tongue. Maybe a little tongue, just the tip and no garlic or onions, and positively no Mexican food.
Wine is good, I’ll stick with wine ... but white wine, not red. No stains, not tonight.OMG, should I bring condoms? I don’t have any and if I did they’d have expired years ago. Do condoms expire?
Aiieeee!
~~~~~~
He showed up early wearing skin tight jeans and a shit-eatin’ grin. Hot and sexy came to mind in spite of the cheap bottle of wine he ordered. Who drinks Lambrusco? At least he wasn’t wearing a leisure suit.
The conversation started off rocky; he asked me if my teeth were real. I asked him if he'd ever suffered a head injury.
He ordered spaghetti, I chose the veal. By the end of dinner, the tablecloth looked as if someone had cut the head off a chicken and let it run about. On the upside, I got a sense of pleasure watching him suck an entire strand of spaghetti into his mouth with one try.
He calls me Lady Di, my screen name. I call him honey and baby.
The name Virgil reminds me of virgin, which makes me think of vagina, which makes me think about sex, and that makes me think of my friend, Suzy, and her instructions for the evening.
“Take control,” she said. “Don’t fuck him on the first date,” she said. “Prick tease him,” she said. Easy for her to say ... she’s getting laid every night.
So ... I will just sit here and drink my cappuccino and play hard-to-get, while he eats the whipped cream off his Chocolate Orgasm cake with his long thick fingers.
Gawd, give me strength.
~~~~~~~
Internet romance and blind dates; I know better, but it was late and he was begging me to meet him. After two months of hot internet chat it seemed reasonable.
First off, he's fifteen years younger than me. Well, really eighteen years, but I did the rounding-off thing in my favor. To make matters worse, he's a poet. I don't do poetry.
What if he recites a well known poem and asks me a question? What if he wants to discuss Wadsworthy or Emily what’s-her-name? I have no clue. I wouldn’t know an ode from a sonnet, unless of course it's tattooed on his ass, then I might make an effort to find out.
And what’s with his name … Virgil. What kind of person has a screen name of Sir Dragon Heart and a real name of Virgil? I wonder if the picture he posted is really him, and if it is, when was it taken? If it’s a new picture, why is he wearing a leisure suit?
I need to focus on his voice and the possibility of sex: I need sex, he’s a man, he has a penis, I have a vagina … albeit an old one, but still functioning.
(squeeze - release - squeeze - release)
I take deep breaths … check out the underarm area for swing and sway and try to hold my waddle up by sucking in my cheeks. OMG … I can’t do this.
My mind keeps rehearsing the possibility of him spending the night.
Keep the lights down low … no off.
Definitely ... the lights need to be off. The room should be pitch black.
I’ll tell him I’m sensitive to light, or maybe blindfold him. I'll tell him it is a kinky thing I like to do.
What if he sees me and changes his mind?What if he can’t get it up? What if I turn him off?
I won’t sleep with him on the first date ... no sex. I’ll play hard to get.
Maybe just a kiss, a cheek kiss; no tongue. Maybe a little tongue, just the tip and no garlic or onions, and positively no Mexican food.
Wine is good, I’ll stick with wine ... but white wine, not red. No stains, not tonight.OMG, should I bring condoms? I don’t have any and if I did they’d have expired years ago. Do condoms expire?
Aiieeee!
~~~~~~
He showed up early wearing skin tight jeans and a shit-eatin’ grin. Hot and sexy came to mind in spite of the cheap bottle of wine he ordered. Who drinks Lambrusco? At least he wasn’t wearing a leisure suit.
The conversation started off rocky; he asked me if my teeth were real. I asked him if he'd ever suffered a head injury.
He ordered spaghetti, I chose the veal. By the end of dinner, the tablecloth looked as if someone had cut the head off a chicken and let it run about. On the upside, I got a sense of pleasure watching him suck an entire strand of spaghetti into his mouth with one try.
He calls me Lady Di, my screen name. I call him honey and baby.
The name Virgil reminds me of virgin, which makes me think of vagina, which makes me think about sex, and that makes me think of my friend, Suzy, and her instructions for the evening.
“Take control,” she said. “Don’t fuck him on the first date,” she said. “Prick tease him,” she said. Easy for her to say ... she’s getting laid every night.
So ... I will just sit here and drink my cappuccino and play hard-to-get, while he eats the whipped cream off his Chocolate Orgasm cake with his long thick fingers.
Gawd, give me strength.
~~~~~~~
First off, he's fifteen years younger than me. Well, really eighteen years, but I did the rounding-off thing in my favor. To make matters worse, he's a poet. I don't do poetry.
What if he recites a well known poem and asks me a question? What if he wants to discuss Wadsworthy or Emily what’s-her-name? I have no clue. I wouldn’t know an ode from a sonnet, unless of course it's tattooed on his ass, then I might make an effort to find out.
And what’s with his name … Virgil. What kind of person has a screen name of Sir Dragon Heart and a real name of Virgil? I wonder if the picture he posted is really him, and if it is, when was it taken? If it’s a new picture, why is he wearing a leisure suit?
I need to focus on his voice and the possibility of sex: I need sex, he’s a man, he has a penis, I have a vagina … albeit an old one, but still functioning.
(squeeze - release - squeeze - release)
I take deep breaths … check out the underarm area for swing and sway and try to hold my waddle up by sucking in my cheeks. OMG … I can’t do this.
My mind keeps rehearsing the possibility of him spending the night.
Keep the lights down low … no off.
Definitely ... the lights need to be off. The room should be pitch black.
I’ll tell him I’m sensitive to light, or maybe blindfold him. I'll tell him it is a kinky thing I like to do.
What if he sees me and changes his mind?What if he can’t get it up? What if I turn him off?
I won’t sleep with him on the first date ... no sex. I’ll play hard to get.
Maybe just a kiss, a cheek kiss; no tongue. Maybe a little tongue, just the tip and no garlic or onions, and positively no Mexican food.
Wine is good, I’ll stick with wine ... but white wine, not red. No stains, not tonight.OMG, should I bring condoms? I don’t have any and if I did they’d have expired years ago. Do condoms expire?
Aiieeee!
~~~~~~
He showed up early wearing skin tight jeans and a shit-eatin’ grin. Hot and sexy came to mind in spite of the cheap bottle of wine he ordered. Who drinks Lambrusco? At least he wasn’t wearing a leisure suit.
The conversation started off rocky; he asked me if my teeth were real. I asked him if he'd ever suffered a head injury.
He ordered spaghetti, I chose the veal. By the end of dinner, the tablecloth looked as if someone had cut the head off a chicken and let it run about. On the upside, I got a sense of pleasure watching him suck an entire strand of spaghetti into his mouth with one try.
He calls me Lady Di, my screen name. I call him honey and baby.
The name Virgil reminds me of virgin, which makes me think of vagina, which makes me think about sex, and that makes me think of my friend, Suzy, and her instructions for the evening.
“Take control,” she said. “Don’t fuck him on the first date,” she said. “Prick tease him,” she said. Easy for her to say ... she’s getting laid every night.
So ... I will just sit here and drink my cappuccino and play hard-to-get, while he eats the whipped cream off his Chocolate Orgasm cake with his long thick fingers.
Gawd, give me strength.
~~~~~~~
 Recognized |
Just a little something to pass my time while I wait for the big one. I may continue with it, if Virgil tickles my fancy. I figure this is full of spag's... hack away.
Pays
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