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A night out

21 October, 2012

Well yesterday was quite a day, so much happened. I was in London during the day, which I will tell you more about in a later post. The events when I got back and reached the pub were much more exciting. I’ve only just really woken up, which is rare for me as it’s gone noon, but it was very very late last night by the time I got to bed sleep. My companion for the evening has told the first part of the story, and asked me to carry on while she showers ready for our trip to the Platform Tavern for a Sunday roast. So…

 

“Show me what else you can do,” she said. Those who have read my romantic failures will know how bad I am at reading the signs, but this time I was sure. Maybe it was the beer, maybe it was the excitement of finally meeting, maybe it was the undercurrent of flirting in the emails and calls we had exchanged before, maybe it was just the fact the she looked so damn hot in her black dress, maybe it was the fact that when I had held her earlier in The Alex I had felt that she was wearing the corset I had seen pictures of and I knew she was wearing it for me, maybe it was that glint of lust, of promise, of pleading to be kissed… whatever it was, I didn’t think, I just knew, and I brought my lips to hers. For a few seconds we stood, our lips motionless as they rested together. We both paused as we processed the fact finally, truly, we had met, we had touched, we had kissed. And then suddenly, we were kissing more passionately, more deeply, our hands beginning to roam as we stood, unmoving in the centre of the floor, oblivious to the ever more frantic and drunken dancing around us. I felt her hands on my head, stroking the stubble there, and my hands explored her body, a finger running the length of her back, following the lacing beneath her dress. As her hips pushed closer to mine, I was increasingly aware of how aroused I was becoming, and I knew that she could feel it too.

I was only dimly aware of the music, but somewhere distant I heard the tune finish and the DJ shouting “get a room!” The mood and the kiss broke as we both turned to where he was stood behind his decks, waving and smiling. We both started to laugh. “I think I should get another round in,” I said, we kissed again quickly, and hand in hand we walked to the bar.

The building tension, the charged atmosphere between us had been broken by our kiss, and now our conversation, our body language, was much more relaxed. We both now seemed to know how the evening was going to end, and I sensed our chemistry move on from the pre-romantic flirting of before, to a confident easiness. We had only met a few hours before but it was as though we were a couple that went back years, our hands barely parted for the rest of the night, our lips met often. As we talked of this and that we could finish each other’s sentences and knew what we were thinking.

At 2.30am the DJ set came to an end, and her flight and my day trip meant that we both decided it was time to call it a night. Rather than join the huge taxi queues, we walked through the city centre to her hotel, and I pointed out some of the landmarks as we passed them. But while outwardly I was saying “there’s the firestation, there’s the library, that’s the Marks and Spencers I showed you in one of my videoblogs” what was going through my mind was how cute she looked as she gazed at all the foreign buildings, how I could see her mentally photographing everything she saw. And how if our roles were reversed, I would be doing the same thing. And how I couldn’t wait to help her out of her dress, out of her corset.

We reached the hotel, and paused. My long-established dating nerves resurfaced, and we stood, facing each other, holding both of each other’s hands. “Just lean in and kiss her, just lean in and kiss her,” my head was telling me. I swallowed, decided now was the time, but before I could move, she let go of my hands and turned to the door. In that split-second all of the confidence I had found during the evening vanished, and that familiar stomach-dropping feeling of failure that I have felt so many times returned, once again my stupid hesitancy, my pathetic fear had screwed up yet another chance of happiness. She turned to me, and I was too embarrassed to catch her eye. I stared at the floor.

“Aren’t you coming in then?” she asked me. I looked up, saw the lust in her eyes as she held the door open, her hand reaching out for mine. I smiled and sighed with relief, and followed her into the lobby.

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10 Comments
  1. Oh my gosh!!!! I do hope this is real and not a story you both are weaving. Oh please let it be real. 🙂

  2. TheOthers1 permalink

    There was really no need to be nervous. 😉

  3. I don’t think it’s nervousness. It’s a mix of anxiety and anticipation. And I’m with Marian. I hope this story is real…..

  4. This is fabulous news 🙂

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