Mona and Me Ch. 01

I paused momentarily and then continued. "I'm not the kind of guy who is going to try to get you drunk and take advantage of you and you look like the kind of lady who knows how to control herself, so, just relax. You know, first dates can be stressful because you don't know what to expect, so I'm going to tell you what to expect. When I take you back home, I'll open your car door and then I hope you'll let me hold your hand while I walk you to your door. When we get to your door, if you want to kiss me good night, I'll consider myself to be a lucky guy. If you don't want to kiss me good night, I'll just hope that it happens on the second date."

"Well, you just spilled the beans, didn't you?" she said. "Actually . . . I'm impressed that you can be so . . . forthright with someone who is a relative stranger and, yes, hearing that does put me at ease. It's nice to be with someone who thinks about someone other than himself."

"And I'm impressed that you would use the word 'forthright' on a first date. I like intelligent women and, obviously, you're one of them."

I told Mona about my law practice while we were waiting for dinner to arrive but the wait was not very long. The food was very good and not horribly expensive and we both enjoyed the meal.

"Well, I've had a very nice time so far and the night is still young. Would you like to go somewhere else?" I asked.

"You mean like your place?"

"No. You don't know me . . . I understand that, but every guy on the planet is not expecting to have sex on a first date, just like every girl on the planet is not a slut. Maybe you've had some bad experiences but I'm not one of those bad guys from your past. I'm just a guy who met a very pretty, intelligent, charming lady and I'd like to spend more time with you tonight. What I had in mind was actually either going to a piano bar for a drink and some quiet music, or if you would prefer, driving down to the beach and going for a walk."

"I'm afraid I've embarrassed myself again," Mona admitted.

"Don't beat yourself up about it," I said. "If you've lived life and had some experiences, then you've had some bad experiences, and . . . well, all of us are damaged merchandise in some way. Just try to not let it control you, okay?"

"You're right," Mona replied. "You're absolutely right. So far, you've been a perfect gentleman and I'm giving you grief because of how a few guys tried to treat me in the past. I'll try not to let that happen again. So . . . if the offer is still available, how about a walk on the beach and maybe on the way out there we could pick up a bottle of wine and two glasses?"

"The offer is still available and I'd love to," I replied. "One of the things you might learn about me is that I try to let go of things quickly instead of carrying things around and letting them fester. Life's too damn short and anger, grudges, resentments, and the like are a cancer on your soul."

"Very well said, Jack. I'll try harder to do the same."

We stopped and picked up a chilled bottle of a semi-sweet white wine and two cheap glasses at the liquor store, then we drove to the beach. Hanna Park was closed but there was a public access just south of the park; it was easy to get on the beach and then walk north and into the park. Inside the park, the beach was undeveloped and it was so much prettier than looking at beach houses and condominiums.

I opened the bottle of wine and poured us each a glass. Mona looked up at me and asked, "Do you want to make a toast?"

"Sure," I said. "Here's to friendship . . . and wherever that leads us."

"I'll second that motion," she said with a smile.

We started walking north along the beach, talking about whatever came to mind. I told Mona about law school and my brief marriage when I was fresh out of school. She told me about her first husband and how he abandoned her after Macy was born.

"Dating's difficult for you," I said, "and, no, I'm not trying to get you to apologize once again. I just wanted to point out that, sometimes, women think dating is so much easier for men, and . . . well, maybe it is for some guys, but . . . I think if a guy has some intelligence and he's sincere, you know, not just looking to add another notch to his belt . . . dating's difficult for guys, too. So, I want to challenge you to tell me why dating is difficult for you, and then I'll tell you why it's difficult for me."

"Wow! Okay. Well . . . first, when a guy asks me out, I don't know if he's some pervert who's going to hack me up into pieces after he rapes me. If he asks me out to dinner, I don't know if he considers Burger King to be fine dining. I don't know if he's going to burp in the middle of the meal and act gross. I don't know if he's some guy who wants to talk about himself constantly. If he's not a total pervert, I don't know if he's going to expect sex on the first date. I just really feel vulnerable being alone with someone who I don't know very well."

"You don't know me very well and you're alone with me right now," I observed.

"Yeah, but I can tell that you're different," she said.

"How can you tell I'm different?" I asked.

"All those guys I was talking about . . . they'd never start a conversation like this . . . and they'd never open the car door for me . . . they'd only have about half of your IQ points, and . . . I wouldn't want to hold their hand," she concluded.

"You want to hold my hand? Aren't you the little hussy?" I teasingly asked. I very consciously and deliberately changed my facial expression to something a bit more serious. "Actually, I'm flattered that you want to hold my hand and I think that's nice. So . . . your wish is my command."

She extended her right hand over towards me and I took it in my left hand.

"Much better," I said.

"Okay, your turn," she said.

"First, I can't date clients and I don't want to date other attorneys, so I don't meet lots of eligible ladies who seem nice enough to date."

"That sounds familiar," she interjected.

"When I do meet a lady, I can look for a wedding ring but maybe she's living with a guy and there's a chance I'm going to get shot down as soon as I ask. That's no fun," I said and then paused before I resumed. "I don't know if this lady is the real thing or a gold digger just looking for someone to bleed dry. If I take her to a nice restaurant, does she have enough class to not do something that might embarrass me? Is she going to think I'm a pervert if I try to get a good night kiss on the first date? Or, is she going to think I'm queer if I don't try to have sex on the first date?"

"Okay, I get your point," Mona conceded.

"But, it gets even better," I continued. "The second date is pretty much like the first date. When we get around to the third date, does she observe the three-date rule? Whenever we get around to developing a physical relationship, it gets worse. Most women expect men to be the aggressors in bed, so I can't just wait for her to make a move on me. When I start trying to get amorous with her, she's probably not going to tell me what turns her on, so . . . do I stick with the missionary position or go for something a little different? Do I try to impress her with my oral skills or will that make her feel obligated to reciprocate, and maybe she's not interested in that. If I suggest anything else, is she going to get turned on or will she think I'm a pervert from the word 'go?'"

"So, what do you do?" Mona asked.

"Well, you can have conversations about those things in advance and try to get some idea of what to expect," I answered her, "but, with most women, I have a sense that they wouldn't be comfortable with it, so I never make the suggestion."

"Very clever, Jack. So . . . how do you feel about having that conversation with me?"

"Well, if I thought you wouldn't be receptive, I wouldn't have gotten this far with talking about it," I explained. "Since we have gotten this far, I'm going to assume that you want to have that kind of conversation so . . . you want to take turns asking questions?" I asked.

"Sure," Mona responded. "Do you want to put any subjects off limits for tonight?"

"No, not unless you do," I suggested. "I don't want you to feel uncomfortable."

"No . . . nothing's off limits tonight. So I'll ask the first question. How do you want this date o end tonight?"

"Well, I'm very attracted to you, so I'd love to be intimate but . . . I wouldn't want you to think that's all I'm interested in. And . . . if you got in bed with me tonight, it would feel good, physically, but I'd think that maybe I had misjudged your character. I don't think that's the kind of girl you are . . . unless I'm just misjudging how horny you are, or maybe I'm such a special guy that you'd make an exception for me. I hope you don't think less of me for admitting to my desires but . . . I'm just telling you how I feel."

"No, there's much to be said for honesty and candor," Mona assured me. "Okay, now, ask me a question."

"Okay. How long do you feel a couple should wait before becoming intimate, assuming that they're going to be more than just casual fuck buddies?"

"Excellent question. I don't follow the three date rule because I think it depends on the individuals involved," she began.

"I get that," I interrupted, "but I really had you and me in mind and not a hypothetical couple."

"I'm very attracted to you and it's been a long time since I had a sexual partner, and I'd really love to feel you in me tonight, but I don't want you to think less of me, so it's pretty unlikely that I'd want to do it on our first date," she confided. "My turn again. What's the wildest thing that you enjoy in bed that you're afraid I'd think is weird?"

"That's an easy question but . . . do you really want to hear the answer?" I asked.

"Well, I did ask the question," she hinted.

"Okay. This is something that would never be a deal breaker for me, I mean, I can certainly live without it, but I've enjoyed it a few times in the past: anal sex."

"I don't think that's totally weird. I mean . . . I've tried it a few times in the past but I never really got anything out of it and . . . it wasn't exactly painful but it was sort of uncomfortable. So, I don't know if I'd want to try that again."

"I've done it with a couple of women in the past and both of them swore they had very hard orgasms from anal sex. I think a lot of guys don't realize that they need to use a lot of lube and start out slow and gentle, but if you do, well . . . they never said anything about it hurting I thought they had orgasms and . . . the bottom line is, they asked to do it again," I explained.

"Well, I don't think I'd want to do that the first time we were in bed," Mona cautioned me, "but maybe we could do it if I had a few drinks first so I was relaxed. So, it's your turn to ask me a question, but I think I know what you're going to ask me."

"Yeah, lucky guess. What's the wildest thing you want to do in bed that you're worried I'll think it's kinky?"

"Yeah, I saw that one coming. So . . . quite a few years ago, I had a boyfriend who let me blindfold him and tie him to the bed and then I could do whatever I wanted to him, you know, within reason, like no hot wax dripping on him, nothing that would cause pain. Oh, and I love to give oral sex . . . and I swallow. How about you?"

"Why, yes, I think I'd love to have my tongue inside of you and lick and suck on you until you cum real hard. Yes, I fancy that, maybe at the same time you're going down on me. And, by the way, I have the opinion that women who like to talk about sex . . . really enjoy sex . . . a lot . . . hot, wild, steamy, uninhibited sex." I paused for dramatic effect, as if a pause was necessary to add drama to this conversation, and then reminded her, "It's your turn to ask a question."

"Okay. How hard are you right now?" Mona asked unabashedly.

"Harder than titanium steel. How wet are you?"

"Dripping," she responded. "Tell me something else you think is a little kinky."

"Okay . . . I'd really like for you to take off your panties and let me smell your juices."

"Really?" she asked. "Okay."

We were standing near the edge of the water. There was another couple maybe fifty yards further down the beach. Mona looked at them, then turned and walked up towards the dunes, and found a place where there were some palmettos that provided some visual cover. It appeared that she was pulling her dress up just enough to reach under and it certainly looked like she was removing her panties.

She walked back down to me and held her hand out. "I made sure they were really wet before I pulled them down."

In her hand was a pair of bikini panties. I accepted her gift and brought them to my face. Her panties were very damp and the odor of an aroused woman was unmistakable. I inhaled deeply.

"You can't imagine how much that turns me on!" I said. "I'd love to be exploring between your legs with my tongue . . . right now."

"Jack, my nipples are hard and my pussy's wet. I need some release and I'm sure you do, too, but . . . you said you wouldn't respect me as much if we did it on our first date."

"No, no, no. I didn't really mean that," I claimed. "I'd really respect you if I could come inside your pussy and feel your hard nipples against my chest. Just tell me that you don't do this on every first date."

"No, of course I don't, but you already told me how you feel and I heard you say something about not just wanting to be fuck buddies. So . . . no horizontal mambo tonight . . . but . . .." Mona apparently enjoyed teasing men, or, at least, she was enjoying teasing me.

"But what?" I insistently asked.

"Jack, have you ever masturbated while you watched your partner doing the same thing?"

"No, but if that's an option tonight . . . if that's my only option . . . I'd love to give it a try."

"Then why don't we go back to your apartment and you can give me another glass of wine and that's probably all it'll take for me to drop my dress and finger myself while you watch."

"Let's go," I suggested.

We returned to my car and headed home. We stopped and got another bottle of wine, then resumed the journey to my bedroom.

When we got to my apartment, I remembered my manners and opened the car door for her. When she swung her legs to the side to exit her car seat, I got a flash of her pussy, as she had not put her panties on. I know she had not put her panties back on because they were in my pants pocket.

"Jack, you're being a bad boy looking at my private parts on the first date!" Mona facetiously chastised me.

"I'm not looking at your private parts, Mona, I'm looking at your pussy, and I like what I see. Besides . . . I think you like me being a bad boy," I responded, "don't you?"

When she got out of the car, she reached for my hand and we walked through the parking lot hand in hand.

Once we were in my apartment, I poured us both another glass of wine.

"Shall we toast?" Mona asked.

I raised my glass in her direction and said, "Here's to having your panties in my pocket!"

"I'm happy for you, but . . . I'd rather have something of yours - something hard and throbbing - inside something of mine that's hot and wet," Mona replied in a blatantly seductive voice.

"I think I have an answer to our dilemma of not having sex on the first date, if you're interested," I announced.

"I'm very interested," she admitted.

"Our first date is going to be over in about 10 seconds and you are going to walk out of that door. About five seconds later, you can knock on the door and I'll let you in to start our second date. What do you think?" I asked with some small amount of pride for my clever solution to our problem.

"I think I like the way you think," Mona said, and I felt encouraged. "I bet I'm going to like the way you do other things, too!"

"Only one way to find out," I challenged her.

"Okay, but before we go ripping each other's clothes off . . . Jack, you can tell that I don't have big boobs. In fact, they're just 34-B's and, well . . . I've had a guy point at my chest and laugh when I got naked and you can't imagine . . .."

I put my arms around Mona and held her body tightly against mine. "No, I can't imagine, but if you can give me the guy's name and address, I'll make sure he has a very miserable rest of his life."

"You don't need to do that. All of that happened about 10 years ago and I heard that he died in a car wreck a few years back. But . . . you do get some points for making the offer," she said with a laugh and a brave smile.

"Okay, now this is just you and me here, and we need to be very open and honest with each other. I know you don't have big boobs . . . and I can't wait to lick and suck on them. I really can't stand 'watermelon tits' and I'm glad you're not overly endowed. You've got enough to make me very happy, and, you know . . . I'm not hung like a horse. Hell, I'm not even hung like a Great Dane . . . but I am big enough to reach all the right spots and I promise that I'll try to make sure that you feel just as good as I do. By the way, it's not microscopic, either, uh . . . I guess I'm about 5½ inches when I get bonified. But, the point is, how you use your equipment is much more important that how much equipment you have. Understand?"

"Why are you acting so terrific?" she asked. "I've never had a guy act like this."

"Well, honey, I don't know about other guys, but I do know that the Golden Rule is a pretty fine way of having good relationships. I wouldn't want you laughing at my willy and, the truth is, I really am much more turned on by small and medium-sized breasts. Floppy, flabby jugs don't do a thing for me. So, I accept the fact that you aren't built like some Hollywood silicone-enhanced starlet and you seem to be okay with the fact that I'm not hung like a porn star, so how about we stop talking?"

"Okay. Well, I guess I need to leave so our first date'll be over," Mona said.

"Okay. See you later," I said.

Mona and I walked to the front door and embraced in a very passionate kiss. "It was one hell of a first date, Miss Mona. It was award-winning!"

"Ditto," she responded. "See you soon."

I opened the door and she stepped out. I closed the door behind her and waited. About two seconds later, I heard her knocking.

"Who is it?" I asked in a sing-song teasing voice, then I jerked the door open, pulled her inside, and slammed the door shut. I began another hot and tongue-filled passionate kiss while my hands freely roamed over Mona's delightful body.

"I could rip the clothes off your body right here or we could retire to the bedroom and perhaps you would allow me the pleasure of undressing you," I offered.

"Yes, I want you to undress me, please," she responded.

I held her hand and led her into my bedroom. I turned on a night light in the adjoining bathroom so that there was very dim ambient lighting in the bedroom.

I returned to the bedroom and stood directly in front of Mona. I held both of her hands and looked into her eyes. "Fucking is what lesser creatures do. A woman like you deserves to be loved and to have a man make love to her. I want to make you cum with my fingers and then I want to make you cum with my tongue. Then, I want to be inside you and I want to feel you cumming when I release my seed inside you. Then, I'd like to roll over and go to sleep with my arms around you . . . but I know you have a daughter at home and you need to be there when she wakes up in the morning. So . . . afterwards, I'll walk you home and then I'll go to sleep and dream about having my arms around you."

"Undress me, please!" she requested.

I reached behind her and found the tab for her zipper. Most women savor the build-up and anticipation of sex and a slow seductive foreplay makes sex so much more intense. I slowly inched the zipper down until it reached the extent of its travel. I put the tip of my middle finger between the two sides of the zipper and found the soft, warm skin in the small of her back. I lightly traced circles at the bottom of her spine and then brought my finger slowly upwards until I was at the middle of her back. Then, I extended all of my fingers and used the palm of my hand to pull her body towards mine.