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Chapter 2 of a Silly Romantic Story

Posted 05-31-2014 at 07:39 PM by SophieC
So I wasn't going to write anymore, but then you were nice to me and asked... So I didn't want to be rude. Also I've drunk quite a lot of shiraz today and sat down tonight and typed the first thing that came into my mind. So profuse apologies if this is illegible. Blame that on the wine, not my ineptness.

Also, this is still not erotica but just cliché. It's a process.

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Second Date.

He wonders when the last time was he had this much fun with a woman. Actually, scratch that, he wonders when he last had this much fun with anyone.

She took him out to dinner tonight, insisting that she wanted to buy him a meal this time. He accepted, a little unnerved by the role reversal, but moments into the date he forgot all about the how of them being there. He frankly found himself much more interested in simply enjoying the woman he was with. He finds her fascinating, and he surprises himself in this because he doesn’t normally use language like that. But he can find no other word to best describe her.

She laughed with him through dinner, matched him drink for drink, and funny story for funny story. She flirted a little with the waiter, and he can’t say it didn’t bother him a little but he indulged her gladly when she flushed a perfect shade of pink when she noticed his noticing.

He wants to make her skin flush that colour at will.

He finds that he wants to have the right to do that.

They went for drinks after their leisurely dinner, walking from overcrowded bar to overcrowded bar in an attempt to find some space to talk. Or maybe not talk, maybe they wanted to find space to stand close to each other. To touch shoulders, bump elbows, and breathe the same intoxicating air of attraction.

They ended up in a favourite bar from his neighbourhood, not really by any design on his part other than he knew he would be able to talk to her there. They would be able to talk to each other and be heard, and truthfully that’s never really been a focus of his when on dates lately. But with this woman, he wants to talk and talk and do more.

And it’s the more between them he is becoming increasingly addicted to.

He kissed her in the low light of the bar and tasted beer and lipstick and something uniquely hers from the softness of her lips. He kissed her once and then again and then counted to fifteen in German inside his head to calm himself and to focus on something else – anything else – than kissing her again. He was on the verge of apologising for acting so impulsively, and so obviously, when he saw the shine of amused arousal in her own eyes.

She asked him then if he lived close by and when he admitted that he did her whispered I’d hoped so had him paying the bar tab – tipping more than was logical – and taking her hand as he pulled her back out into the cool night air.

The sweet burn of anticipation, the overwhelming ache of pure want, powered their movements through the still crowded city streets. He let go of her hand abruptly to wrap his arm around her body, letting his palm rest on the curve of her hip as he brought her home with him. The implied possession in the gesture was only partly unconscious.

The short journey to his apartment was in silence, but the shared quiet was imbued with meaning. A silent lovers conversation only they could understand.

He reacted like an awful cliché when he closed the door of the apartment and he finally had her to himself, but he couldn’t muster the inclination to care. He pushed her back against the solid wood of the door and kissed her liked he had just learned how. He grasped her hips and unashamedly pressed the firmness of his body against the softness of hers, taking his cues from the gentle exclamations of pleasure which she couldn’t quite seem to keep inside. He very quickly decided that the lush softness of her bottom lip was one of his favourite places to spend his time. He sucked on it once more to test this newly realised belief and pulled her closer against his body in acknowledgement of the power her closeness had over him.

They separated suddenly, breathing quickly and simply sharing the same heated air for a silent moment. Then he rallied all reserves of gentleness he could muster and tucked his fingers under her chin to tenderly take possession of her kiss once again. They kissed like this for long moments, happy to be suddenly free to explore each other without thought.

All too soon, however, the reality of kissing against a door turns from seductive to awkward. There are more comfortable places to explore each other after all, and he spent a small fortune on the couch in his living room and decides that he want to discover the softness of her skin there.

They kiss and laugh their way to the living room, him leading when he found the conscious thought to do so. He got distracted in the doorway with the buttons on the front of her dress, but her fingers against his own prevented him from exploring perhaps more than he should while dragging her across his apartment.
He sits down heavily on the couch, guiding her to stand in the space between his knees so that he can rest his hands on her hips and his head against her stomach. She runs her fingers through his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp and he has to consciously stifle his moan of pleasure. Then he realises something as he kisses the soft skin of her belly through the fabric of her dress; he doesn’t have to stifle how he is feeling. He doesn’t have to hold back, because for the rest of the night he is answerable only to her and what they want to share together. He pulls back to look up at the woman he has become so charmed with in such a short amount of time; she smiles at him and it’s truly like watching the sunrise. He reaches up slightly and kisses her tenderly again, this time the fabric of her dress separates his lips from brushing against the pale skin of her chest.

They share a glance for a heartbeat, and then another loaded moment passes between the two of them as he takes the skirt of her dress between his hands and he helps her pull it over her head. They throw the material somewhere behind them, and he watches affectionately as she can’t help but stare at the crumpled expensive fabric on the floor.

The warmth of his hands against her hips again brings her attention all the way back to him again, but she seems unable to meet his gaze as she attempts to cross her arms across her stomach.

He raises his eyebrow in question at her apparent shyness, and takes both her hands in his and leans forward to whisper and share his thoughts that she is gorgeous against her skin. He feels the taut flesh of her stomach quiver as he breathes kisses all over her. She steadies herself by anchoring a hand to his shoulder and this contact makes him lose his internal battle with his self-control.

He almost throws her onto the couch in his urgency to be closer to her. She hugs him close and whispers in his ear that they have plenty of time. He rests his forehead against the side of her neck and counts to ten. He wants to do this right, sensing the importance and significance of the moment all over again. He brushes his lips against her neck, and then does it again when she sighs in pleasure at the contact. He kisses his way down to her collarbone and spends long moments exploring this delicacy of it with the gentleness of his kiss. He realises then that he could have silent conversations with her collarbone with only the press of his lips against her, and he promises himself he will but now there are other parts of her to learn and explore.

He kisses his way down her chest with only the whisper of the touch of his lips to the underside of her breast; then he continues his exploration down to her stomach and then lower till he rests his cheek against her right hip. He looks up and is bewitched by the blush of colour on her cheeks, and the deep forest green of her eyes. She smiles at him and he is undone.

He kisses his way from her hip to the impossibly soft skin of her inner thigh, inhaling the sweet scent of her. He closes his eyes in pleasure and gives in to the want.

He stops thinking about anything except the taste of her and his hands against her skin.
Total Comments 4

Comments

Old
katydid's Avatar
I'm never writing another blog again. Oh, Queen of Bloggers.

You have me on the edge of my seat ....of my couch.

Jesus, Sophie. I can't wait much longer. How much longer are you going to make us wait? Get drunk again and get going girl!
Posted 06-01-2014 at 11:40 AM by katydid katydid is offline
Old
hijiller's Avatar
I so hope she doesn't forget the "no sex before monogamy" rule, but I fear she is heading in that direction. But maybe this is just an erotic fling disguised as a romance..you clever girl, switching the POV to the guy.
Posted 06-01-2014 at 02:11 PM by hijiller hijiller is offline
Old
katydid's Avatar
They switch the POV in pornography once in a while too, Jill, just to make things interesting. I know you wouldn't know about such things. But, it's nice to get a different perspective on things I agree.

She's smart.
Posted 06-01-2014 at 02:26 PM by katydid katydid is offline
Old
Wordsand's Avatar
I realize that this entry is 3 years old, but I have to admit that I've been reading through a few of your blog posts with some fervor when I should be out there trying to reach 150 posts. I enjoy both your stories like this and your sense of humor. Keep writing, you've seemed to have made a new fan.
Posted 09-12-2017 at 06:58 PM by Wordsand Wordsand is offline
 
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