02-01-2017, 07:44 AM
(This post was last modified: 02-01-2017, 11:07 PM by GuyByThePond.
Edit Reason: Emma loves italian food
)
A romance - episode 1: antipasto
"What should I say ?" I wonder.
I'm in Copenhagen, about to leave the airport transition zone. Out there, Emma's waiting... I hope. She made me come here. We wanted to see each other. Hardest decision in my life. I thought of De Niro in heat (Michael Mann, 1995).
Then I see her. I knew I'd think she is beautiful. Still, it's a shock. Her face is a combination of mature features and teeny mischief. She's put just the right amount of make up, discreet yet sexy. Her hair is put up like THAT time. Her black coat hides her body, yet I can guess at sweet curves, and her high heeled boots make me think she's dressed with care.
Our eyes are locked. Hers are deep ponds I want to swim in. She smiles shyly. I wave my hand awkwardly.
Under the gray Georges Rech coach, I've put my best suit, the anthracite Moschino one, with a light pink shirt. My black frattelli rossetti are mirror polished. My hair is the fuss it's always.
You never have a second chance to make a first good impression.
"Hi Emma"
"Hi Ian"
It's a strange feeling. I'm 40, yet I'm like a teenager wondering how to rob a kiss at the nicest girl in school.
"I think there is a dozen butterflies in my stomach, dear Swedish girl".
Her smile broadens.
"I feel like a mouse who wants to hide in its hole. I did not expect such a big cat !"
We laugh. I take her hands in mine. They're soft, yet strong.
"Shall I invite you someplace for lunch ?"
"My dear french gentleman, it'll be my pleasure to make you discover my hang outs in Copenhagen".
Some time later, we're in some hype cantina, sharing beers while waiting for our turn to sit. We've spoken of us: who we are, what we do, what we like. The words flow nicely, in an engrossing conversation, with some laughs put over.
"You know, Ian, I think I've not always fell for the right man, but you're really one of a kind"
"Here is flattering Emma again" I say smiling "but, true, even if it's the first time we really talk together, I feel like being with an old friend I deeply care for".
She flashes a mischievous grin. "Maybe you'll have the opportunity to show me just how 'deep' is your caring"
I nearly spit my beer out.
"That's pretty straightforward for my french, romantic, and respectful manners, dear, but..."
Then it happens. I smooch her lips. Her eyes widen, then narrow.
"You can do better" she says.
This time, I brush her full lips with mine.
"Again" she whispers.
I put my mouth on hers. Then my tongue starts reaching out. She opens her lips slowly. It's a first kiss. Not passionate, yet long, tender and full of promises...
"hrmm".
The bartender tells us we can eat now. We smile at each other and go to our table...
Emma's really putting me under her spell while we're eating. She's been wearing a nice, simple yet pretty, black dress under her coat. Her shoulders and cleavage are not exactly naked because it's winter, but the white shirt underneath the dress molds her shapes nicely, and the little black stockings I've been able to glimpse between the top of the knee high boots and the bottom of the dress feels like the right kind of see through. Her lips are full, rehearsed by a subtle shade of red. I want to kiss the pink the cold (or something else ?) put on her cheeks. But the best feature is her eyes. At times, they're like stargazing at a deep corner of her mind, at others they sparkle with mischief, fondness, curiosity, even desire maybe.
I love this soul I found in a place I did not expect. She helped me realize I had lost the ability to feel, to care, and now it's coming back, like a severed limb growing again. I must confess another thing feels like a tree in spring at the hints she lays on the trail of our conversation.
"You know, Ian, my character in the game has become something of an anal queen ! You really made me want to explore this fantasy"
"Yeah, that's a thing I love in the game, in RPG in general. It's a giant 'what if' simulator. For instance, Lorenna made me try very muddy sidetracks I did not know I had in me"
(I'm french, speaking of sex while eating is something that comes naturally)
"Really ? I'm curious. Maybe a little jealous" she flashes her teeth
"She's in this sub/dom thing, her being on the VERY sub side. I thought it's not my thing, because it meant ties and whips to me, and I have this #respect women# imperative deeply ingrained in me, but as I was very intrigued by the stories she told me, I tried once a pure text RP experience with her. She put me in a situation very very far from my fantasies, and made me do her things I'd hate a guy to do. But I understood, I felt (the warm place again !), how there could be deep love and respect in the trust there is between dom & sub when they're playing their game, even the nastiest one. Maybe your swissdom story was something akin to that ?"
She laughs "Not very smart of you to speak of another girl like this, but yeah, I understand what you mean"
"Emma. I don't want to hide things to you. I want to share. I want to tell my stories. I love to make you wet between the legs. Maybe I'm like the actor on stage who hears somebody in the audience laughing, crying, screaming at his performance. And the actor craves for that. And the somebody is you. And for this I'm grateful and I love you".
There. I said it. The big L word. And it came easily.
"Ian ! I'm... I'm speechless... I'm not sure it's the most beautiful way I've been told 'I love you', but... But you make me feel so... unique"
"Because you are, dear Emma, because you are"
Our lunch is finished.
"Do you want to come at my place ?" she says with a touch of tremors in her voice.
We don't drink coffee. I pay the bill. We move. We're silent. She slides her hand in mine on the way back. I squeeze it. It's hot, soft and strong.
"What should I say ?" I wonder.
I'm in Copenhagen, about to leave the airport transition zone. Out there, Emma's waiting... I hope. She made me come here. We wanted to see each other. Hardest decision in my life. I thought of De Niro in heat (Michael Mann, 1995).
Then I see her. I knew I'd think she is beautiful. Still, it's a shock. Her face is a combination of mature features and teeny mischief. She's put just the right amount of make up, discreet yet sexy. Her hair is put up like THAT time. Her black coat hides her body, yet I can guess at sweet curves, and her high heeled boots make me think she's dressed with care.
Our eyes are locked. Hers are deep ponds I want to swim in. She smiles shyly. I wave my hand awkwardly.
Under the gray Georges Rech coach, I've put my best suit, the anthracite Moschino one, with a light pink shirt. My black frattelli rossetti are mirror polished. My hair is the fuss it's always.
You never have a second chance to make a first good impression.
"Hi Emma"
"Hi Ian"
It's a strange feeling. I'm 40, yet I'm like a teenager wondering how to rob a kiss at the nicest girl in school.
"I think there is a dozen butterflies in my stomach, dear Swedish girl".
Her smile broadens.
"I feel like a mouse who wants to hide in its hole. I did not expect such a big cat !"
We laugh. I take her hands in mine. They're soft, yet strong.
"Shall I invite you someplace for lunch ?"
"My dear french gentleman, it'll be my pleasure to make you discover my hang outs in Copenhagen".
Some time later, we're in some hype cantina, sharing beers while waiting for our turn to sit. We've spoken of us: who we are, what we do, what we like. The words flow nicely, in an engrossing conversation, with some laughs put over.
"You know, Ian, I think I've not always fell for the right man, but you're really one of a kind"
"Here is flattering Emma again" I say smiling "but, true, even if it's the first time we really talk together, I feel like being with an old friend I deeply care for".
She flashes a mischievous grin. "Maybe you'll have the opportunity to show me just how 'deep' is your caring"
I nearly spit my beer out.
"That's pretty straightforward for my french, romantic, and respectful manners, dear, but..."
Then it happens. I smooch her lips. Her eyes widen, then narrow.
"You can do better" she says.
This time, I brush her full lips with mine.
"Again" she whispers.
I put my mouth on hers. Then my tongue starts reaching out. She opens her lips slowly. It's a first kiss. Not passionate, yet long, tender and full of promises...
"hrmm".
The bartender tells us we can eat now. We smile at each other and go to our table...
Emma's really putting me under her spell while we're eating. She's been wearing a nice, simple yet pretty, black dress under her coat. Her shoulders and cleavage are not exactly naked because it's winter, but the white shirt underneath the dress molds her shapes nicely, and the little black stockings I've been able to glimpse between the top of the knee high boots and the bottom of the dress feels like the right kind of see through. Her lips are full, rehearsed by a subtle shade of red. I want to kiss the pink the cold (or something else ?) put on her cheeks. But the best feature is her eyes. At times, they're like stargazing at a deep corner of her mind, at others they sparkle with mischief, fondness, curiosity, even desire maybe.
I love this soul I found in a place I did not expect. She helped me realize I had lost the ability to feel, to care, and now it's coming back, like a severed limb growing again. I must confess another thing feels like a tree in spring at the hints she lays on the trail of our conversation.
"You know, Ian, my character in the game has become something of an anal queen ! You really made me want to explore this fantasy"
"Yeah, that's a thing I love in the game, in RPG in general. It's a giant 'what if' simulator. For instance, Lorenna made me try very muddy sidetracks I did not know I had in me"
(I'm french, speaking of sex while eating is something that comes naturally)
"Really ? I'm curious. Maybe a little jealous" she flashes her teeth
"She's in this sub/dom thing, her being on the VERY sub side. I thought it's not my thing, because it meant ties and whips to me, and I have this #respect women# imperative deeply ingrained in me, but as I was very intrigued by the stories she told me, I tried once a pure text RP experience with her. She put me in a situation very very far from my fantasies, and made me do her things I'd hate a guy to do. But I understood, I felt (the warm place again !), how there could be deep love and respect in the trust there is between dom & sub when they're playing their game, even the nastiest one. Maybe your swissdom story was something akin to that ?"
She laughs "Not very smart of you to speak of another girl like this, but yeah, I understand what you mean"
"Emma. I don't want to hide things to you. I want to share. I want to tell my stories. I love to make you wet between the legs. Maybe I'm like the actor on stage who hears somebody in the audience laughing, crying, screaming at his performance. And the actor craves for that. And the somebody is you. And for this I'm grateful and I love you".
There. I said it. The big L word. And it came easily.
"Ian ! I'm... I'm speechless... I'm not sure it's the most beautiful way I've been told 'I love you', but... But you make me feel so... unique"
"Because you are, dear Emma, because you are"
Our lunch is finished.
"Do you want to come at my place ?" she says with a touch of tremors in her voice.
We don't drink coffee. I pay the bill. We move. We're silent. She slides her hand in mine on the way back. I squeeze it. It's hot, soft and strong.
Making a girl smile can be much more rewarding than bedding her...