Trying to keep it simple ??

I sat at that table with my beer in my hand, trying so hard to look casual. But how could I, he smelt sooooo good.

We had met there before, a week earlier after chatting on RHP and him questioning if i was really real, so i had been super nervous meeting him, wondering if he was real too, more nervous than I wanted to admit. I still wasn’t sure why, except maybe I could feel something building between us with every message we sent. Something intense. Something that felt like it could have been a perfect friendship, but also felt dangerously close to something else that intense feeling that only a few would have ever felt in life and i just hoped it wasn’t fake but maybe my nerves had got the better of me as i left confused but wanted to see him again so we met at his place, seeing someone in their own home is different, it tells a story about them, and i needed to know how i felt as i couldn’t get him out my mind.

And it had felt different.

Hotter. Sexier. More charged than I expected.

So charged that when I left, I turned back and kissed him. Just like that. Something I would never normally do, but in that moment I couldn’t stop myself. His skin was warm, his mouth soft, that smell again. it made me melt into him. Then I rushed off, because what i felt was intense! He didn’t say much about it afterwards, when he messaged me and I was left wondering.

Had he liked it?

Had I misread everything?

Had he changed his mind?

But now here we were again and now i knew, i felt it and it was huge.

Trying not to show the filthy thoughts running through my head. Trying not to show how badly I wanted him. My whole body was burning for him, hot and restless, my pussy throbbing with every look he gave me. I wanted to reach across the table, grab him by the neck, and kiss him hard. I wanted my tongue in his mouth. I wanted to taste him, feel his warm skin under my hands, press myself against him until there was no space left between us.

Instead, I lifted my glass and took another sip, pretending I had control.

But he was different. I could be myself with him, that often scared others, but it didn’t seem to scare him, well i hoped it didn’t.

He was caring. Gentle. Not pushy. But unusual and sexy. And somehow that made it worse, because it left me wondering whether he really wanted me at all. Was he holding back because he was respectful, or because he didn’t feel the same filthy pull I felt? Did he have any idea what he was doing to me? Did he know I was sitting there soaked, aching, and desperate for him to make a move?

Should I do it?

Should I lean across that table and show him exactly how badly I wanted him?

I waited.

Another drink went down, then another, and soon I couldn’t stop staring into his eyes. It felt like I could see right inside him. Like there was nowhere for either of us to hide. Every time I tried to look away, something dragged me back.

I was hungry for him and it was obvious.

Not politely. Not sweetly.

I wanted him in a raw, dirty, desperate way that made my thighs press together under the table. I wanted his hands on me. His mouth on me. I wanted him to stop being so calm and gentle and just take what I was silently begging to give him.

It wasn’t just lust, though. That was the dangerous part.

There was something deeper there. A connection. One of those rare, electric things you barely ever get to feel in life. It wrapped itself around me, tight and invisible, pulling me closer until I felt almost hypnotised by him.

Did he feel it too?

He couldn’t possibly. Not sitting there so casually, talking like he had no idea my body was screaming for him. He hadn’t even touched my leg that was there desperate to feel his hand. I also didn’t want to waste it, i knew it was more than just a moment, more than a crush, no this feeling doesn’t come around often, i felt lucky, out of all those hundreds of people on there searching for someone, all those messages i was getting, i chose to chat to him, he drew me in, in a different way, he was honest, exciting, adventurous, promiscuous and he didn’t try and hide it, he didn’t need to hide it, i found it sexy and intriguing.

Then it started to rain.

We were under the beer umbrella, but the rain splashed in sideways, cool droplets hitting my arms, my neck, my face. I shifted back, laughing a little, pretending the weather was the reason I was trembling. He barely moved. He just sat there, almost unaware of how wet he was getting.

I was wet too, but not because of the rain.

I had been wet for the 2 hours, staring into his soul, imagining his mouth on mine, his warm hands sliding up my legs onto my lace underwear. I kept wondering when he was finally going to kiss me. When he was going to stop making me wait. When he was going to realise I was sitting there with my heart and pussy pounding in sync barely able to think straight, wanting to take him right there and do every dirty thing I’d been imagining.

It became too much.

I stood up and said I was going to get us more drinks, hoping the walk to the bar might calm me down. But he followed me, insisting it was his round, and suddenly we were standing side by side beneath the warm lights, close enough that I could feel him beside me.

Close enough to touch.

Close enough to ruin me.

I could smell the rain on his skin. I could see the shape of his mouth when he spoke. I could imagine that mouth everywhere. My body felt tight and hot, every nerve awake, every dirty thought getting louder.

We carried the drinks back outside, but by then the rain had grown heavier. The table was soaked, the chairs slick and shining beneath the downpour, so we stood by the door instead.

And standing was worse.

So much worse.

He was right there. Close enough for me to grab. Close enough for me to press myself against him and let him feel exactly what he was doing to me. My head was spinning from the drinks, from the rain, from him, and I started saying things I probably shouldn’t have. Little truths slipped out. Dirty little hints. My eyes kept dropping to his mouth. My body kept leaning toward his before my mind could stop it.

I think I kissed him next.

Or maybe he kissed me.

It was all a blur of rain, heat, beer, and need. One second we were standing there, pretending to be sensible, and the next my mouth was on his, desperate and hungry, finally tasting what I had been imagining.

And fuck, he tasted good.

The moment his lips met mine, something inside me snapped. All that waiting, all that wanting, all that aching turned wild. I kissed him like I had been starving. Like I needed him to know exactly how badly I wanted him. My tongue found his, and my body moved closer without shame.

For a moment, everything else disappeared.

The rain. The bar. The people around us. The careful act I had been trying so hard to keep up.

There was only him.

Only his mouth.

Only the heat between us.

Only the filthy, desperate thought of taking him home.

He said he needed to take him bike home and would get a cab over. So i had to leave first. i couldn’t watch him get on that sexy bike as i knew i wouldn’t be able to resist straddling over him, feeling how hard he was under those jeans.

I wasn’t sure if he really would come over.

So I left with my heart racing, my body aching, and my pussy still throbbing for him, hoping he wanted me as badly as I wanted him.

Because by then, there was no pretending anymore.

I needed him.

Badly…..

(To be continued….)