Blind Date

"Thea?"

"It's from one of Gene Wolfe's books -- some sort of elegant courtesan. She won't give her real name."

"That whole scenario sounds hot."

"Yes, but It sounds dangerous. She's never met me, and rather than meet for the first time in a public place, she wants to meet in a hotel room, in the dark. That's incredibly reckless. I could be the Zodiac Killer for all she knows."

"Oh... uh yeah, I guess it could be seen that way."

"So she seems perfect, except she's reckless, which is a hell of a character flaw, don't you think?"

"Um... not necessarily. It's sweet of you to be looking out for her safety, Jeff, but of course she is safe with you. You know that."

"She doesn't know me well enough to know that, yet."

"Maybe she does."

"What?"

"Um.... you've been emailing her right? Maybe she's just a very good judge of character, and has never done anything like this before. She says it's a fantasy scenario, right?"

"Yes..."

"Maybe she's normally not like this, and something about you makes her trust you to fulfill her hottest fantasy. And if this does prove to be a character flaw, you can always stop seeing her. Or rather, stop not-seeing her, since this'll be in the dark."

"That makes sense. Okay, you've convinced me. I'll go."

"Awesome! Um... I mean, I'm thrilled you might have a chance at romantic happiness!"

"You really are happy for me, aren't you? Thanks for all your advice. You're a good friend, Chaise."

"That's me -- a good friend. Ooh, I thought of something! Maybe she wants to meet in the dark because she's afraid you'll think she's not attractive. Do you, uh... think that might be true?"

"Ha! Not a chance."

"Why not?"

"Hers was the hottest of all the nude selfies."

"Oh... wow."

"Sorry, I'm embarrassing you. You're turning redder than your wine."

"You... uh... really thought she was that hot?"

"She concealed her face with a book, but her body's a dream. All these tight, pale curves. She must do pilates or something."

"Yoga."

"Huh?"

"Err... probably. All the women who exercise around here do yoga. It's like a cult, really -- a sensual, limber cult."

"Whatever it is, it paid off. She struck this incredibly erotic pose, with an arm covering the tips of spectacular breasts. She had one knee up, which accented the arc of her hips. If Playboy bought out Librarian's Quarterly, she would be the first centerfold. She was lying on one of those -- what are they called? -- those one-armed couches with the back missing on one side?"

"Gulp!"

"Chaise!"

"Eep!"

"Are you okay? You slammed your wine like it was tequila!! Do you have the hiccups?"

"Um.... eep?"

"Here, drink my water. Slowly."

"Thank -- eep -- you."

"All better? Sorry, I must have really embarrassed you -- describing her body like that."

"No, really, you don't need to be sorry. At all. Um, Jeff, something interesting happened at work this morning."

"Yes?"

"Dennis called me into his office. He said he had time to think about it, and that he hadn't rewarded me properly for my work on the Silver Linings project. He said my approach had been vindicated, and instead of being resentful, he should have praised my initiative and confidence, particularly if he wanted to keep having employees of my caliber working for him. I got a $20,000 raise and a promise of a nice year-end bonus."

"Well earned, Chaise. I'm glad Dennis finally recognized that."

"Why do I think he was coached along by you?"

"Coaching my managers is part of my job."

"You're an awesome boss, boss. I hope things go well with Thea. I have a feeling they will."

"This might be an awkward question, but am I wrong in thinking Thea's messages are kind of suggestive?"

"Only in the sense that water is kind of wet."

"I don't want to offend her by assuming we're going to have sex, but I want to be prepared, just in case. Do you... uh... think I should bring a condom?"

"Bring three!"

"Huh?

"I mean, with the nude photo and her wanting to meet you in the dark, I don't think there's a chance you will offend her by expecting sex. She sounds like a real slut."

"Thanks, Chaise. You're a great friend."

"Anytime, Jeff. Anytime."

February 10

"Chaise, close the door."

"Your subject line just said, 'Urgent'. Is this about your date last night? I've been dying to find an excuse to talk to you all day. How did it go?"

"It was amazing!"

"Details! The more sordid, the better."

"I rented a room at the Westin in Palo Alto. I had to pay extra for them to install blackout curtains on short notice, but they promised it would be completely dark inside. Once I verified this, I texted her the room number."

"And then?"

"Eight o'clock comes, and I stared out of the peephole hoping to catch a glimpse of her."

"You cheater!"

"She never said I couldn't do that. It didn't matter anyway. She must have sidled up along the wall, because suddenly the peephole was covered."

"Ah, so she anticipated your devious attempt to violate the spirit of her rules, and she deployed countermeasures. I like her already."

"I heard three soft knocks."

"Yeah?"

"So I did what I promised. I doused the lights, cracked the door open, stepped back, and turned around so I wouldn't see her enter."

"Uh huh..."

"I heard the door open, and I could tell she was nervous, because her breath kept catching. I then heard her exhale long and slow, like she was nervous and trying to calm herself. Then the door shut, and I could sense she was standing there with no idea where I was -- not sure what she should do. She just stood there, not saying anything."

"Well, she might have been afraid of tripping over something and breaking her neck in the dark. Cut her some slack."

"I think she planned to do something sexy, like wrap her arms around me in the dark, and it wasn't until she entered the room that she realized she wouldn't know where I was standing. So, I called her name, 'Thea', and I heard slow footsteps approach. Then a soft hand brushed my chest, and she whispered, 'Either your name is Jeff, or you'll have a hell of a story for the boys in the locker room tomorrow.'"

"Ha!"

"I laughed too, and we talked for a bit, but all the time she kept touching me, like she was trying to explore what I looked like through her hands. Have you seen that with blind people, where they learn to recognize someone's face by sense of touch? She was doing that. I felt her fingers move across my jaw, cheeks, and lips. Then she was running her hands through my hair, tracing my eyebrows, and tickling my ears."

"Did you... like it?"

"God yeah, she had said that without our eyes, our imaginations and other senses would fill in the gaps, and she was right. I touched her face, and my mind ran wild trying to picture what she looked like, just from touch alone."

"What did she look like -- to your hands?"

"She wore glasses, and she took them off for me. That was one moment where I regretted the dark. I think I told you I like to watch that. She had a round face. I tried to sense more details than that, but she smiled the whole time."

"Maybe she was ticklish."

"She said she was living a fantasy, and that made her happy. She was really emotional. Her cheeks felt wet at one point. I think she was crying."

"Or maybe you poked her in the eye."

"No! Well, maybe. I didn't think of that. But tears of joy are nicer."

"Then let's stick with that. So you just stood there, touching each other's faces?"

"And talking. It was this amazingly intimate conversation. The only conversation that has ever come close was.... never mind. When Thea and I chatted via email it was fun, but writing is different from how people speak. I wasn't sure what it would be like talking to her, but it was like we already knew each other so well. We fell into an immediate rhythm, which was so sexy. And what made it even more maddeningly erotic was that she always spoke in this low, sultry whisper. I swear if she walked into my office right now and started talking to me, in her normal tone, I wouldn't even recognize her voice."

"..."

"Chaise, are you laughing or choking?"

"Sorry, I inhaled a crouton. I'm fine."

"I lowered my voice to match her volume, and she lowered hers further, and we had to move closer to hear each other, until our conversation was with our lips grazing each other's ears."

"What did you talk about?"

"It's kind of personal."

"You can tell me."

"I don't think I should."

"Jeff, I'm now sucked into this sexual escapade of yours! You can't hold back now!"

"You really want all these details?"

"My girlfriends tell me stuff like this all the time. There's nothing you can say that will shock me. And it's not fair to tell me half the story! Once a story has begun, you have a moral obligation to continue through the end!"

"I've never talked like this before about my time with a woman. It's actually kind of fun. I get to relive the the entire night in my head. So yeah, okay, I'll keep telling the story."

"So what did you talk about?"

"She would ask these deeply personal questions. She wanted secrets no one else knew. Who did I first kiss, and how did I feel? When was the first time I ever touched a girlfriend's breast, and what did I think? What was the best oral sex I ever had, and what made it wonderful? And after each answer she would share something about herself. I remember her describing some geeky guy at an artsy summer camp in high school, with whom she had a lot in common, but he was so insecure and needy she eventually pushed him in the lake. She said she felt like she would never meet anyone with her interests who would also be strong and confident - a man who could challenge her the way she would challenge him -- who would know what she wanted -- including when she just wanted to just be taken."

"How did you respond to that?"

"I told her that smart women sometimes have trouble getting out of their heads during sex. She said she had that problem too sometimes. I told her that the solution to getting out of her head being driven out of her mind."

"Sigh..."

"Yeah, she sighed like that too, and I laid her on the bed. She had been a little tense in my arms, and after I said that, it was like her body just suddenly opened up, and she melted underneath me. I removed her clothes, and, you know... we had a nice time together."

"'Nice time together?'"

"Yes, it was wonderful."

"That's all I get?"

"Well, it was pretty intimate from there."

"Give me intimate! What happened?"

"You really want all the details?"

"Yes! Did she rock your world? Did a choir of angels harmonize with the cry of her climax? What was it like? Tell me!"

"This is kind of awkward for me. You're sure this isn't boring you or anything?"

"No, no, trust me, I'm fascinated!"

"I'm not a writer like you. 'A choir of angels'? Yeah, it felt like that, but I don't think I can describe it like that."

"Your descriptions are perfect. It's like I was there."

"Okay, if you're sure. So you remember how we visualized each other's faces using our hands? Now we tried to visualize each other's entire bodies with our hands. She used her fingernails to trace all my muscles."

"Did you like that?"

"I wasn't strong as a kid. I didn't lift weights until we started that wellness program last year and the division heads said I needed to set an example. So I'm not used to having actual muscle definition."

"You look... well, amazing. All the women on the third floor have been totally checking out your butt."

"This was the first time I've actually been with a woman since I started lifting..."

"Get out! You didn't sleep with those models last month?"

"No, they hinted at going to my place for a drink, but I told you they were boring. I made an excuse about work, which wasn't really a lie, as I've been so focused on the company the last two years. It's only recently I've had time to even think about my personal life. So, as I said, Thea is the first woman I've been with since I started lifting, and it's amazing. It's the first time I ever sensed a woman getting intensely turned on by just... you know... touching my body. It was a new experience. She'd trace the outline of my bicep, and I'd find some excuse to shift my weight so the muscle would flex, and I'd hear these sexy 'oohs' and her legs would spread slightly, or she'd arch her hips toward me."

"Well, there you go. You've been annoyed at the recent women who seemed only interested in you for your money, and now you have a woman who only wants you for your body. Progress!"

"It's a hell of a lot more fun being used for your body than for your money, but don't get me wrong -- she liked my personality as well. We really clicked, but that wasn't new for me. A woman getting turned on by my body was new, and she was getting more aroused the more she touched me, running her hands down my chest, then digging her fingers into my back. At one point she used both hands to grab my butt, while nibbling my mouth, and she whispered, 'You've no idea how much I've wanted to clutch this ass of yours.'"

"It's a nice ass, like I said."

"Yeah, but she's never seen me before. So how could she have been wanting to grab my ass?"

"Uh..."

"There's only one explanation."

"Uh oh."

"Talking and writing to me somehow made her want to grab my butt."

"That must be it."

"And God, it was obvious how aroused she was getting. It was so fucking hot. I could feel it happening."

"What do you mean?"

"The way we were kissing for one. Her kisses grew hungry. Her lips softened, moistened, and opened. It was like she was trying to draw me as far as she could inside her body."

"You are talking about her mouth?"

"Well, I could feel it happening... down there as well, where our hips were touching."

"You're blushing! 'Down there'? Jeff, we have words for our anatomy. Head, arm, stomach, breasts. It's okay. You can say them."

"Fine. I can feel her getting wet -- in her vagina."

"Vagina? Jeff, you aren't her gynecologist -- you're her lover. Is this how you think to yourself in your head: 'Oh my God, the amount of lubrication in her vagina must have increased by 37%? Penis penetration commencing in 30 seconds!' This is a hot story, Jeff. You need to sell just how fucking hot it is by using hot words. Unleash your inner author! He's in there! Set him free!"

"Ha! I'm not like your girlfriends, used to giving a play-by-play like this."

"You can do it! Try again. So you felt her responding... down where?"

"God, this is embarrassing."

"Give it to me, Jeff. I want those words. I need them!"

"I can feel her cunt melting against the heat of my cock."

"Yes! Yes! There! That's so good! More! I won't feel complete until I'm stuffed full of your words! Impale me with them!"

"Chaise, wow! Um... more?"

"God yes, more! What happened next? Did she beg for it? Tell me she begged for it."

"She actually did start begging for it."

"Of course she did. She needed to. How did she beg? Tell me."

"'Please, Jeff', she said. 'I need you. I need you to fuck me. I need you to fucking pound me.'"

"God, just think of how much she needed you inside her to abase herself before you like that, exposing her deepest, most torrid desires. Did you do what she asked, Jeff, and satisfy her craving for cock?"

"Well, no."

"You dog."

"I never had a woman beg before, so I said, 'I can fuck you, but if you want me to fucking pound you, then you need to use your mouth more first.'"

"You're a cruel, magnificent bastard. Tell me more."

"She whimpered, but nodded rapidly. I let her flip me over, and her mouth traveled down my body, with the same hungry kisses on my neck and chest. When she reached my stomach, she stopped and said, 'I want to drink this six-pack later'."

"That's what you're hiding under those tailored shirts?"

"There are perks to setting an example for the wellness program. Anyway, she started kissing my thighs, and her fingers touched.... me... for the first time."

"Touched you? Touched you where? It's cute to watch you blush like this."

"Men don't blush. It's just hot in here."

"I need more words, Jeff! Say them!"

"Her fingers touched my cock for the first time."

"You're getting into this, aren't you, Jeff, using all these naughty words."

"Yes."

"And what was it like when Thea touched you?"

"It was the same way she explored the rest of my body -- she was trying to see my cock with her hands. Her fingertips brushed the surface, and it's like she's trying to take measurements or something."

"She probably was."

"I thought it was a myth that women cared that much about size."

"I had a roommate in college who wouldn't date a guy with a dick longer than four inches. It hurt her cervix. Another girl in my dorm chased this guy who reputedly had eight inches of man-muscle packed in his boxers. The morning after she finally fucked him, I saw her sitting on an ice pack in the cafeteria, with a goofy grin on her face. Every girl has her preferences for what's too long, short, wide, or skinny. Or too crooked."

"Crooked?"

"Long story. So, after she finishes measuring you, she says..."

"She says, 'God, it's thick and perfect. And not crooked!'"

"Err... I wonder whether we have a mutual friend."

"And then she licked me, with long, slow, wide strokes -- lapping at me. And I heard her whisper, 'Is this good? Am I good enough at cocksucking for you to fucking pound me? Have I earned my pounding yet? Please? Please will you pound me?'"

"The girl had needs, you bastard! Needs!"

"She needed to be teased, so I just said, 'More', and she enveloped my cock with her mouth."

"How... err... was she?"

"She was ferocious. Normally I don't like that. It makes me too sensitive."

"Normally? But not last night?"

"You have to understand how she made me feel. My life for the past few years, with the company's success, still seems unreal to me. Today, I've got a personal trainer, all my shirts are tailored, and once a month have to quietly fire an employee when I find her naked in my office."

"Is that what happened to Brittany? That skank!"

"But deep down I sometimes feel like the President of the high school Coder's Club who only was treated nicely by beautiful girls when they needed help with homework. So now, here I am, in bed with a woman so deep in the throes of lust that she's actually pleading for my cock. She's been driven into slutty, sexual heat by me. She's so aroused by me all she can think of is sucking me with such skill that I will finally fuck her. You ask how she was at giving head? I felt like I could smite my foes, shape life out of mud, and call down thunder from the heavens. She made me feel like a fucking god."

"..."

"Sorry, I got carried away recalling the moment. You're embarrassed again."

"She, uh, really made you feel like that?"

"Yes."

"Wow...."

"Then I heard her whisper again, 'Is this good enough? Is this good enough yet for you to fucking pound me?'"

"Was it?"

"Oh, hell yeah."

"So did you fucking pound her?"

"No."

"You're a glorious son of a bitch."

"I said, 'I'm not convinced you want it bad enough yet', and rolled her onto her back."

"I bet she howled in frustration."

"She just mewled."

"She said, 'Hee haw?' I've done that in bed."

"'Hee haw?' No, not 'mule', 'mewl', like a kitten. And 'hee haw' is what a donkey says, not a mule."

"Honest mistake. What does a mule say?"

"I don't think they talk much. Um, why on earth would you ever have said 'hee haw' in bed?"

"Another long story. Continue with yours."

"She kept whimpering the word, 'please,' as I moved down her body. I inhaled her nipple into my mouth, and she gasped, and said 'please' again, while running her fingers through my hair. When my hand approached..."