Things are progressing with the new lady, for whom I am going to have to come up with a name. Zoe. I adore that name so this is the one I will use. Our third date was as previously outlined, which was a surprise because that was supposed to be our fourth. First we met at a new café in town, a very hip little spot that plays records. Actual vinyl records, the kind I used to sell at my mother’s store. They had excellent cappuccino and the food was wonderful although Zoe didn’t eat. She has a new diet for training and she insisted that I eat seeing as I’m back to my lean fighting weight of one hundred and eighty five pounds.
After our time at the café we reconvened at her house where she intentionally put on a movie we had both seen, so that we could still “talk”. If you miss a signal like this buddy, you are benched, out of the game. Sure enough, we actually do talk for a bit, she has positioned herself in the corner of the couch so that her legs are pointed at me. A stand-off between us, but with those tight, high-waisted jean shorts on I see this as more of an invitation. I begin with her feet, which I move to my lap. If a woman even allows you to handle her feet you are about thirty percent there. I don’t really go for a legitimate “foot massage” because that is fucking lame and it makes you committed to a task. The only task I want to be committed to is getting my tongue into her mouth and my hands into her clothing. I do however touch them and even grip them, occasionally make as though I am massaging her feet but not really getting too involved in it.
I think most get the picture. This proceeds up her legs. Once I am certain through thorough suggestion and body language that she is absolutely interested in everything done thus far, I move in. I slide right up next to her not unlike a snake actually and I know that I am making this sound predatory and creepy but… It is a hunt. Whilst positioning my body deftly I simultaneously and with seamless grace bring my face smoothly to hers without ever breaking eye contact. I think many people are familiar with this movement and have more than likely done it many times but to hear it described it seems strange. Yet, we do it. It is a thing of beauty. I slide myself right into place as my face perfectly docks with hers and locks in a breathtaking first kiss. Then we make out like teenagers in the backseat of the family Ford Galaxie at a drive-in movie circa 1968.
Zoe is slender and I don’t normally go for those types but she is ringing my every bell. She has as much of everything that she needs right where you want it and that’s what matters. She is very complimentary personality wise to myself. We have similar interests but are not identical, which is great because I like a fine balance. I don’t like having everything in common with my respective other and I don’t see the point in carrying on with someone who shares no common ground. Why would you want to? Even if the sex was good…
Our fourth date is going to be this Sunday and I’m trying to think of something special I could do that isn’t over the top. A small gift or token, preferably something useful not just a bottle of wine. Something that tells her that I was listening. As of yet she has mentioned nothing that I can think of that I can work from. She has her likes covered and her needs are before those so, if I do get anything it would be frivolous but I would prefer it to serve a purpose. I guess I will have to think on it.