First Dates Are Kissing Dates - Conclusion free porn video

First Dates Are Kissing Dates II Conclusion By Frances Penwiddy Copyright © Frances Penwiddy 2016 The publishing rights to First Dates are Kissing Dates are reserved. It may be downloaded for personal use or sharing with a friend provided it is not done so for profit. Reproduction in any way or within any website where a charge is rendered is forbidden without the full written permission of the author. [email protected] 'First Dates are Kissing Dates' contains material of an adult nature and is not suitable as reading material for minors. Websites must clearly indicate that it is R or X rated. The conclusion picks up at chapter 7 where the first part ended. If you have not read the previous seven chapters then it is better if you do so before continuing 7 When we got back to the boathouse, John took the carton and then I handed him the picnic hamper and climbed out of the punt and we tied up. He kept glancing at the river cruiser. "Tamesisadda, is that an Indian name?" "No, Tamesisadda is a Celtic goddess of the River Thames, would you like an introduction? I'll become furiously jealous if you say yes." "In that case I'll say no. I wonder why they keep her moored here and not on the river?" "Mooring charges on the Thames are frightening especially if they are secure moorings like this and the river is less than an hour's cruise in a boat like her. I'll arrange an introduction now without feeling jealous as you declined when I first offered." He smiled. "Now that is female thinking. Do you know the owners?" Before I could answer the door to the boathouse swung open. "Ah, yes, Miss Emma, I thought it might be you, I saw the car earlier." "Hullo, Fred, we've been out on a picnic, the punt looks very smart." "I gave her a coat of varnish and cleaned her bottom a week ago." "Did she giggle when you tickled her bottom with the brush?" "Cooed a bit." He looked at John curiously. "Come and meet my bloke, Fred, he's an engineer and sorts out spaces in factories for machines so if you ever need to sort out your workshop or dry dock, he's the man to speak to." Fred came over and shook hands. "You'll find the boats easier to keep in order than young Emma, they're not so wilful," he advised. Turning back to me he nodded at Tamesisadda. "She's all done as well, new coat of anti-foul paint below the water line, are you planning to take her out soon, she could do with a bit of a run." "Not for a month or perhaps longer, I'm going in to hospital soon. I might take her away for a week or two when the doctors give me the okay. If you want to borrow her, Fred, help yourself, take Della and your grandchildren out for a bit of fishing." "Aye, she'd appreciate that, thanks. Must go, I need to get the dry dock ready for a narrow boat coming in tomorrow, a seventy footer, nice boat, give me a shout if you want anything." He nodded at John. "I'll say this much, you look like a man that can keep her in order but keep your eyes on her, I've known her to jump in the river and swim to help a swan tangled up with fishing line and she did it fully clothed and it was March and not too warm." He nodded and went off. As he closed the door I said, "He never told you that he jumped in after me, I was cold and my clothes were pulling me down and Fred is over sixty and still managed to get me back to the boat and haul me out." "It was a brave thing to do, more so in March the water temperature must have been pretty cold?" "It was, we both had to strip off and Fred was standing at the helm navigating the boat wrapped up in a couple of towels and a blanket while I shuffled around making soup in a winceyette nightie, a waterproof jacket and a pair of pink deck shoes. When we got back here Della kicked up such a fuss and ignored Fred completely and rushed me into her house and virtually had me sitting on her Argo stove and drinking a mixture of milk and rum and poor old Fred had to squelch his way up to the bathroom, still wet and cold and run a hot bath for me." "They know about you then, about your being transsexual?" "Yes, they were friends of mum and dad since way back and when my parents died four years ago they kept an eye on me in a quiet sort of way even though I was twenty two." "Nice people." "They are and very hospitable. When Fred tells Della that I've got a boyfriend, she'll be giving you the once over and asking a lot of questions and demand to know if you're capable of looking after me then she'll take to you and fuss over you like a mother hen if you as much as graze your hand when opening a padlock. "I'd better not upset you then." I laughed. "God no, there's Samantha as well the three of them would wrap you in a tarpaulin and throw you into the river smothered in pike bait." "So Tamesisadda is yours?" "Yes, I didn't tell you because I was keeping it as another surprise. I held on to her after my parent's death because of my happy memories and sometimes I take my customers for trips, often as far as Southend and Margate. It works as well, it's different to the usual business lunch or dinner and they can bring their wives and girlfriends along as well. Ted takes charge of the boat and Della does the catering and they're good at it as well, I've signed two contracts, big ones on board and settled a couple of very nice deals as well. My accountant gets quite a good tax allowance because I use her for business. We'll go away for a while if you like once I'm out of hospital and if ever you want to impress a business contact or customer, you can use her. Let me know and if you want Fred or Della to handle the boat whilst you fuss over your customers, they can do it or I can, I can handle the boat and navigate inshore and in the Med." "Who taught you the navigation part?" "Dad and Fred I have a Channel licence and a navigation certificate and provided I stay within territorial waters I can take us to a dream island in the Aegean." We loaded the car with the picnic basket and drove home. "We'll take this stuff indoors and then I'll take you out to dinner. Don't argue, it's my turn. Now there's the new Chinese restaurant or the Mexican place which has dancing, or wherever else you prefer?" He nodded thoughtfully. "I've never tried Mexican." "It's hot and spicy and the dancing is Latin and good fun but you don't have to eat the spicy stuff, they also do mild and plain food as well." "Let's go Mexican then." "Okay, I'll shower and wear a dress more suited to a wild night in a Mexican cantina, would you like something to eat before we go out?" "I'll have to wear the same clothes, it's a pity we didn't call in at my place on the way from the boatyard, and we were only fifteen minutes away. He picked up the carton containing the primus stove. "Where would you like these?" "On the work bench is okay and I'll take the picnic hamper into the kitchen." I looked him over. "Can you get yourself something to eat and I'll pop into town and get you a pair of Chinos, a shirt and we can borrow a sombrero when we go to the restaurant, they keep a few for customers and some ponchos. We can have fun." He looked doubtful. "I have to be on site at eleven in the morning and that means leaving home no later than ten, are we having a late night?" "No, I did think of that so if we leave the restaurant no later than eleven, would that be okay?" "Fine and I can shower and change at my place in the morning." "I'll do your back for you and I'm an early riser so if we have cereal for breakfast and leave here at about eight thirty, will that give you enough time?" He smiled. "Depends on how late it is before we get to sleep." "That, sir, is up to you." I took the hamper up to the kitchen and left for the shops. When I returned there was no sign of John but there were signs of recent activity by the kitchen sink and I felt a little warmth coming from the dishwasher. I looked inside and he had loaded the picnic stuff and washed everything. So I went looking for him and as I came out of the office I heard him, singing again and sure enough, when I got to the bedroom he was in the shower so I put the clothes I had bought for him on the bed, knocked loudly on the door and shouted. "I'm having a bath, your new clothes are on the bed." And after receiving an acknowledgement, I took my bathrobe and went for a soak. When I got back, John was dressed and looked really dishy, edible in fact and the casual shirt really suited him. "You look terrific," I told him. "All you need is the sombrero and poncho and you'll look like a scrubbed up version of Clint Eastwood in one of his Westerns." He smiled. "You don't think it's too colourful?" "No, definitely not, it's just right for the place we're going to. How do the shoes feel?" "They're fine, comfortable." "So there's no excuse for you to not dance with me?" "Nothing too elaborate though." "Latin and jive." "I can handle some Latin, the samba, rhumba, cha-cha but not the tango." "That'll do for starters. I'll be a half hour getting ready so if you want to phone George to see if he's available you can give him a time." "Fine." And he sat on the bed and just looked at me. "What are you sitting down for?" "Waiting for you to get ready." "No you're bloody not, you go and wait in the sitting room and if you get bored the vacuum cleaner is in the utility room." "Spoil sport." "You'll get a chance to be excited when I dance in the Cantina, now buzz off." I finished my sultry Latin look makeup and took out my black full circle skirt and white petticoat and a white peasants blouse and then picked a pair of pretty full cut panties, they had lace inserts at the side but the front and back were opaque so if I did flare the skirt and I was certainly going to try, I would at least be covered. A black suspender belt and my seamed nylons completed the ensemble under the skirt but I hate wearing a black bra under a white blouse so I wore a white cleavage bra. I picked my stiletto black patent heels and belt and a white wrap, took my coat from the wardrobe, spent five minutes checking the effect, well one minute really, the other four were spent admiring myself and went up to the sitting room. "You've changed your hair style," was the first thing that John said and the second was. "You look terrific though, definitely Fifties." "You like it? You don't think the bowed ribbon holding the pony tail is too much." "No, it's perfect, definitely perfect." He helped me on with my coat, picked up his own jacket and took my arm. "George arrived two or three minutes ago, ready?" "Just my bag." And I took it from the coffee table, dropped my touch-up makeup bag inside and we went down to George. "Blimey," he said. "You going to a fancy dress you look like a cross between Mexican Pete and John Travolta," and he jumped out of the cab, run round to our side and opened the door. "And you are really something else, definitely Olivia Newton John." "Did your wife like the lipstick, George?" "Oh yes, I nearly forgot, she wants you to give me the make and colour, she's getting a tube." "I'll jot it down in the cab." When we arrived at The Cantina Peter Gonzales turned from making an entry in his bookings diary and walked quickly towards me and we air kissed. "Senorita Emma, how nice to see you again." "It's been a while, Speedy, work and hospital." I turned to John. "Clint, this is my favourite Mexican from Clapton, Peter Gonzales, known as Pedro to his mother, father and staff whilst to everybody else, Speedy. Speedy this is my favourite hombre, John, otherwise known as Clint the Cattle Rustler and will you lend him a sombrero and poncho for the evening." "For you Emma me old darlin, of course but can I still have a dance later?" "Clint, can Speedy have a jive with me later and will you promise not to blow him away?" John smiled and held out his hand. "I'm a little confused, should I call you Pete or Pedro." "Pete, set a new fashion. Have you known Emma long?" "Ages," I interrupted. "We even go away together on boating holidays and he can dance the rumba." "Dance away, Pete, I have a feeling I might not be able to cope with Emma in a jive, it's a full time job just walking with her, I never know quite where the journey may end, what surprises await around the next corner." "You've not seen her jive before?" "No, not even waltz." "You're in for a treat, she's terrific, dances like a feather in a breeze but with the speed of a lighting flash." He went to a cupboard and came back with a sombrero. "Here but when you get up to dance, push it back off your head to hang down your back, it's safer that way with Emma spinning in front of you." "Sssh, Speedy, you'll give away my secret surprise." Once we were seated and had ordered our starters, John look around. "It's well done, very atmospheric and the band is good." "They are and very good at keeping the tempo and Peter and his wife, Maria give a flamenco demonstration a couple of times during the evening." "Why doesn't he jive with her?" "She won't, she tells him the flamenco is fast enough for her so she made me promise not to do the flamenco with him and she wouldn't jive. Peter loves the arrangement, he gets to dance with the two tastiest birds in here." "He has a pretty wife does he?" I smiled. "I think you have just paid me a compliment. Yes his wife is very pretty and full of fun, especially when there's a party going on which means most evenings." Our tortilla dips arrived and I watched as John attacked his tequila, downed it in one, sucked the lemon and shuddered before chasing it with a generous gulp of beer. "Have you ever thought of trying one of those with your prairie oysters." "A good idea for a cold morning, are you going to drink yours?" I shook my head. "You can have it later if you wish, I daren't drink one until after I finish dancing, I'll stick to Mexican beer or wine," I pushed the tequila towards him and sipped at my beer. "You come in here quite a bit?" "Not so much the last two or three months because of work and the hospital but yes, I used to come here once a month with the girls from my support group. When it was opening, Samantha found out about it from a friend on the council and we managed to get hold of a group ticket for the opening night and some of the girls brought their boyfriends with them and we had a terrific party. Peter and his wife really fussed over us and when the band started they came over to our table and serenaded us. The boyfriends the girls brought with them danced with all of us and Samantha's fianc?, he was only a boyfriend in those days, did a samba with me and then a jive and a little later Peter and Maria did a flamenco demonstration and after that Peter got me onto the floor and we jived. It was quite reasonable at first and then I think he signalled the band to speed things up and we flew. He's a brilliant dancer and we did put on a show and since then, when we come in, he always has a jive with me. Maria told me I was a very good dancer and asked me if I would like a job giving a demonstration dance with Peter twice a week but my graphics were really beginning to take off then and I couldn't spare the time." "Where did you learn to dance?" "At school in the beginning, our music teacher started it off and we had a dance lesson every week in the gym, that was about the time I was beginning to notice that I was a bit different to the other boys and I used to envy the girls, the way they could look so graceful and the pretty dance clothes they wore and when I left school and went to art college I was dressing and living as a girl then and somebody suggested I join a dance school and I did and started learning the women's steps and I really loved it. I don't dance a lot these days, too busy but I do enjoy it on occasions like this, so you'd better be prepared." "You're scaring me." I smiled. "I'll be gentle with you just like you are with me when we make love. I might be tempted to dance very closely when we are doing a smoochy waltz so you must warn me if you think I'm taking liberties." "I wouldn't dream of spoiling it for you." We had a glass of beer each and then the band started playing a waltz. "Come on, let's dance," and I got up before he could think of an excuse not to. We danced a respectable waltz, not too clingy and after a minute or so, Maria, Peter and another guitarist followed us around the floor serenading us and when that dance ended, they went straight into another one and without really realising what I was doing, I started singing it to John, well the tune was 'If I Give My Heart to You,' so I wasn't so much singing as grilling him on his future plans for us and I started snuggling in a little closer. When the dance ended he gave me a little kiss and we returned to the table to find it filled with little dishes each containing small samples of assorted Mexican foods. "Did you order?" asked John. "No, well not really, I just told Peter that you hadn't tried Mexican food before so he must have put these here for you to try before we order." "There's more than enough for both of us to make a meal out of." Peter came over. "I thought you might like to try a few of these and there are some new ones for you to sample as well Emma." "We can't try all of these, we won't have room for our meal." "I don't suppose you will but the next time you come here, you will know what you like best, it's called customer relations." "Are you saying you're not going to charge me?" "Of course I'm not. I'm stitching you up for the tortilla dip and the drinks but these are on the house." He placed a hand on my shoulder. "Look at it as a thank you. I have customers that come in here and ask if Emma is here and is she going to dance and look disappointed when I say no. You have brought new customers to our restaurant, even this evening I have had two customers ask if it is you and when are you dancing so eat up and enjoy yourselves." "There you are," I said as he went off to speak to the band. "The man who marries me will save a fortune on food, I can dance for dinner every night." "And sing for your supper." We started sampling the food between us and it was almost as good as taking a tour of Mexico. Peter was going to make a big success of The Cantina if he and Maria started putting these dishes on their menu, there was something to cater for just about every taste. We had nearly finished, in fact I had but John was still eating a little when the band beefed up their music and Peter strode arrogantly onto the dance floor and raising his arms began tapping his feet and moving slowly along the perimeter of the dance area and then Maria slowly spun onto the dance floor beneath the band and on our side. Glancing across at Peter, she tossed her head, spun again and moving slowly in our direction she tapped a little raised her hands and used the castanets then a slow spin, another toss of the head and stopped alongside our table and winked at me. "I think he's interested," she whispered and turned towards Peter, gave him another glance and then in a voice loud enough for the diners to hear but still speaking to me she said. "I have no interest in men who think they can dance but do not appear to have the ability," and then with a lighting display of flamenco steps and furious clapping of the castanets she spun to face him, slammed the floor with a foot and lowered her harms to place her hands on her hips with one leg thrust forward and gave yet another toss of her head. Before the iridescent green of her dress had settled Peter increased the speed of his toe and heel clicking walk with an occasional burst of hand clapping and walked slowly back to the band, his eyes roving over Maria's body as if he were a farmer assessing a prize bull that he might consider making a bid for and when he was opposite her, the music sped up and he went into a superb display of the arrogant stiffness of the Flamenco his legs and feet moving at incredible speed as they beat a staccato of sound with dazzling movements of his feet and persistent hand clapping which slowly forced the band to increase its rhythm and then he stopped dead, mirrored Maria's stance with both hands on his hips and one foot tapped impatiently as he stared her down before giving her an imperious 'come-hither' flick of his head. Maria turned her head to me and said. "He still thinks he can dance," and then matching his footwork, she slowly span out her heels and toes tapping the rhythm, her castanets in time with her turns as she increased the speed until her skirt and multi-layered black petticoat started to flair and she used it to tease the audience until she reached Peter. He waited for her and as she closed on him he turned away and slowly danced his way around her, his tattoo beating in sequence with hers and then he lifted an arm and she matched the movement without once faltering in her hand movements, keeping the castanets beating a slow rhythm against the staccato of their feet and then they spun away from each other and closed again spun with each other and in opposite directions and I watched fascinated. At no time did he touch her though their hands came within millimetres of each other and they turned, spun, parted, closed and orbited each other like a matador and a bull manoeuvring for position ready to close for the kill and their feet worked at incredible speed but always in time. The audience were clapping the time now, keeping pace with the guitars of the band and it wasn't difficult for me to imagine I was standing in a Spanish bullring under a burning sun with the flashing colours of Maria's dress working as a counterpoint to the severe black of Peter's high waisted trousers and silver decorated jacket. The dance ended and they both looked each other up and down and then Maria shrugged. "You can dance a little but you still need lessons," and she turned away from him and with an occasional tap or click from her shoes she walked towards me. I began to feel a little uneasy but she stopped an arm's length away and turned to face the other diners. "Ladies and gentlemen, she hasn't visited us for some time but tonight we have the one woman who can give Pedro a lesson, our own Emma the Butterfly," and without warning she turned, reached out and took my hand firmly and pulled me from my chair. I nearly collapsed on the floor, I couldn't dance a flamenco to save my life, Peter would dance rings around me until I got giddy and collapsed and my free hand reached out to John but I was too slow and Maria stepped away from our table taking me with her. "Go show him how to dance, Emma," said John smiling. A fat lot of good the new love of my life was, in my moment of greatest need he had gone over to the enemy. "Maria!" I hissed. "I can't do the flamenco!" "Trust me." And she took another three steps, dropped my hand and as she sashayed away she whispered. "Spin your way after me and stop beneath the band's rostrum." I looked back at John but he just smiled and nodded, then I looked towards Peter who was standing there giving me that challenging, haughty look and something stirred inside me, I hadn't found the man yet who could lose me in ballroom and Latin American and I'm dammed if I'm going to let some bloody Mexican prove himself a better dancer than me. I placed a hand on my hip and walked slowly towards him, disdain on my face and egged on by the other diners who were crying out. "Go for it, Emma!" "Send him on his way!" "Show him how to dance!" I walked three quarters of the way towards him and then turned towards Maria who was now standing under the band nodding and smiling. I tossed my head has she had done and started turning slowly and then increasing the speed I spun away from him and towards Maria. "I can't dance the bloody flamenco!" I whispered in desperation, the realisation of the challenge I had just accepted dawning on me. "The band will change the beat and tempo when he gets here, don't worry, you'll know the dance, now go get him." I looked at her, studied her face, her eyes to see if she was lying but there was only a reassuring smile so I returned my attention to my adversary who was now moving in my direction with occasional flurries of heel tapping footwork and slow turns, the haughty look on his fare as he looked me up and down and then he reached out, stopped and gave two hard stamps of his feet and waited. I would kill Maria for this and dreading what was coming I took his hand, felt the gentle pull and spun into him and to my surprise he opened his arms and took hold of me in the classic open Latin American hold and as he did so, the music changed from flamenco to rumba and we slowly danced out to the centre, our hips exaggerating the steps and twice he released a hand and allowed me to turn out and then in and when we reached the centre I looked him in the eyes and saw the slight smile at the corners of his mouth and again the tempo changed and we started dancing the cha-cha. I was on familiar territory now and I threw myself into the dance and matched him step for step, turn for turn and we must have been dancing well because there was a constant beat of the tempo coming from the audience as they clapped the timing and after perhaps two or three minutes, the music slowly faded until only the drums remained and again the style changed and I heard the familiar intro to Rock-Around-The-Clock begin and their male singer started the opening words and I looked into Peter's eyes. "This is where you get yours," I whispered and I started to jive and so did he and I kept increasing the pace and he matched me and then lifted our hands to above head height and spun me, spun me back and spun me out again and my skirt lifted, the audience cheered and I realised that he had opened his hand and I was making very fast turns with just my fingers resting on his palm without any support. For a moment I faltered, I had never danced without a firm hand holding me in the fast turns, he was challenging me so I took my hand away from his and spun across him three times and as I pushed my hand out for the catch, his was there waiting but again only an open palm and with just a touch of his thumb he brought me back in and then we danced, danced like I had never done before and several times I found myself copying Maria's near but never touching hand movements and we turned, spun and skipped around each other my skirt flying, the audience a blur, we danced like a tiger and a panther circling prior to mortal combat, no a pair of falcons trying to outfly each other. I was dimply aware of the band changing to Jailhouse Rock and for twelve minutes we danced until he closed a hand over mine and spun me in to stop. "I surrender, there isn't a move I can make that you can't match, you win," he was smiling and all around us the diners had forgotten the food and drink and were on their feet applauding. Maria spun down to us and they each took a hand and we bowed to them and turned ourselves to applaud the band and then they walked me back to our table. John was on his feet. "You were superb," he said. "Truly superb, all of you." Peter bowed. "Senor Clint, I return the butterfly who would be a hawk to your care and thank you for allowing me the pleasure, no privilege of dancing with her." John held out his hand and Peter placed mine in it and John guided me to my chair. As I sat I realise that I had danced in four inch stilettoes and me feet had never faltered but they ached and I reached down and eased the shoes off. "You'll have to carry me out to the cab," I complained. "I just can't dance in heels." "Of course not," said Maria. "You'd lose control and crash into a table," and she and Peter went off to attend to the diners. John was smiling. "You certainly rocked me and I wasn't even taking part." "I've already promised to teach you but don't try it in heels." 8 "I didn't overdo it did I?" I asked John when we arrived home and I made our coffee. "I became so lost in the music and dancing and the competition between Peter and myself that I totally forgot about how high the skirt was lifting or what I was exposing." John chuckled lightly. "In the context of what was going on and the general atmosphere of The Cantina, no. It was to some extent erotic, your skirt lifted high enough to let everybody know the colour of your underwear but the sheer brilliance of your dance, the way Peter and you spun around each other, teased and challenged each other demonstrated how even something like a jive could be turned into a work of art and the slightly erotic exposure of your limbs added to the artistic appeal. No, you didn't overdo it. As a spectator I found it exciting, no more than exciting and only wished I had the sense of rhythm, the gymnastic ability to dance like that so I could jive with you but I can't so I must satisfy myself with a bit of shuffling and when you go flat out in the jive, I will enjoy just watching you. There is one criticism I would make; After having listened to you tell me about your early life and your realisation that you were different to the other boys and how it manifested itself in the way you joined the girls at playtime in school, I was disappointed that you didn't throw a cartwheel or two into the dance." "Cartwheels! Cartwheels in four inch stilettos! I would have broken both ankles and ended up sliding out of the door on my bum!" "So you would be prepared to try it if you were wearing flat heeled shoes?" I grinned. "It would certainly give Peter something to think about but knowing him, he'd probably grab one of my ankles and spin me around until I was too giddy to stand up." I glanced at my watch. "It's later than we intended, we should go to bed otherwise you won't be in a fit state for work in the morning." He got up from the table. "You're right but it has been a terrific evening, thank you, thank you for the whole day, we must do it again." "I'm not so sure. It really tired me out." I was lying of course, I was still full of life. "In fact I haven't the energy to undress, I think I'll just lay on the bed and undress in the morning." "You won't sleep properly like that, I'll undress you if you like." "It would be nice but you're tired as well." "I am but I feel obliged to help you after you went to such efforts today to see that I had a good time." I grinned. "I bet. Just undress me slowly, none of that caveman ripping knickers off stuff, be sweet and loving and very, very gentle, I'm fragile, you heard Peter and Maria describe me as a butterfly, treat me as such." "You were also described as a hawk." "So I was. Would you like me to grab you with my talons and fly us high above the clouds?" "As high as the moon if you like, want me to carry you to the bedroom?" "Yes." He lifted me and cradled my shoulders in his left hand and his right upper arm was under my knees and as he walked he was caressing my lower left arm left and my right hip and waist with his right hands. I leaned my head against his shoulder and looked up at his profile. The set of his jaw told a lot about him, he was a man that wouldn't easily be pushed of course once his mind was set on something. If it was ever necessary to get him to change his mind then it would need to be done gently, coercion rather than instruction. Whilst I was studying him I felt his hand fiddling around at my waist. "What are you doing?" "Trying to find the zipper for your skirt." "It's a back zip, not a side zip, you'll have to put me down to get to it and I'm nice and comfy, can't you wait until we're in the bedroom?" "I'm impatient, it's your fault and your provocative dancing." "You know what sort of knickers and stockings I'm wearing why are you impatient?" "I want to feel them." "They're silk, you know what silk feels like.? ?No, I haven?t felt a warm body inside a pair of silk panties since last night, I?ve forgotten what it feels like?? ?You?d better get the bedroom door open then and don?t forget to turn the lights on so you can get a good look.? ?I can?t reach the doorknob with you in my arms.? ?Lower me a bit and I?ll do it.? He did by stooping a little and tilting my head down and at the same time managed to flip my skirt and petticoat up so that it bunched under my bust. ?Eek! Don?t drop me.? He answered by lifting his right arm so that my body was at an angle of forty five degrees and my hips were nearly at his head height and then he kissed me right in the middle of my panties. In desperation I got the door open before I blew up. ?Forget undressing me, get me onto the bed and take me as I am, if you don?t, I?ll never date you again!? John may not be able to jive but he could certainly move across a carpet quickly enough because in three seconds he dropped me right onto the middle of my bed and before the mattress had a chance to rebound he was undoing the buttons of my blouse, slipped his hands under my waist and up the back of the blouse and unhooked my bra and pushed that up and stopped dead and stared for a bit then kissed one nipple, pinched the other and at the same time flicked my skirt up so high it nearly collapsed on his head and he brushed it back, forgot my boobs and went straight for the panties and kissed me right at the V where they vanished between my thighs and then I felt his tongue force its way between my thighs and I opened my legs and his lips closed on my tiny bulge and I felt the front of the panties become wet and so did he because he lifted his head, hooked my panties and pulled them down and off one leg leaving them dangling from the other ankle as he scooped up my legs and lifted them and held them with his shoulders whilst he undid his trousers and pulled them down with his pants and I felt the dragon slide back and forth over the wetness on my lower tummy as it seemed to be drinking the lubricant that I was leaking and then it vanished as he leaned back, still keeping my legs across his shoulders. ?You ready?? ?John, stop fooling around and get it into me, I?ve only got seconds before I go nuclear.? ?Not so fast, you?re not dancing with Peter now, it?s me and I?m doing nothing until you withdraw your threat.? ?Threat? What threat, just get on with it and bury it in me, all of it, as high as it will go, do it now.? ?Do you promise to come out with me every time I ask you?? ?Yes, yes, anything, I promise, now will you fuck me or I?m going to explode.? He eased forward and the monster now stiff, hot and leaking a bit itself paused for a second at my rosebud and then slid in and I screamed with a mixture of excruciating pain and sheer ecstasy and I locked my heels behind him as he collapsed on top of me and impaled me, holding me tight onto the bed and I just had time to cry out, take a deep breath and then he was pumping and my heels were beating on his buttocks encouraging him and I dug my nails into the top of his shoulders and we flew up and up through the clouds and straight towards the moon and still he kept pumping into me and we ignored the moon and flew straight into the sun and I had a nova and he yelled and I felt him release millions of radioactive sperm into me and I went into a second nova that went on and on? I opened my eyes slowly for a second not sure where I was and then they focused and at the same time I heard John?s heavy breathing as he lay still on top of me with his head to one side, his cheek touching mine. His shoulder was only an inch or two away from me and I lifted my head and kissed it and as soon as I did, I felt things stirring deep inside me and my nipples were tingling again so I opened my mouth and nipped his shoulder with my teeth and sucked as hard as I could as if trying to draw his essence. He groaned quietly and I felt him begin to slip out of me but I squeezed hard with my thighs and managed to hold him with about half of his penus still embedded in me and the tingling grew more intense. ?Don?t you dare slip out, I?m not finished yet, I want you to take me out into space again, I?m not finished, I can still travel?? ?I can?t, not yet, I want to but I can?t.? ?You can, if you really want to experience that again, really want to, you can,? and I pushed up to him and felt a little more of his space ship slip in so I started to tighten my internal muscles and wriggled and the electric sparks started zipping up and down my body, heading to my groin and thighs so I wriggled a little harder and felt my body shudder and I gasped. ?Go on, go on, you can, please just push in and pull out a little.? He responded and I felt him harden again and he pushed and then slid back and the tip of his penus started caressing something deep inside me and I saw lights flashing across the room, back and forth like the strobes in a disco growing more and more intense as they matched the shudders that were running up and down my body and John sensed something and seemed to take strength from me and he grew and hardened until he was back to his rampant best and he started his slow pumping movement and each thrust forward touched that something inside me and the lights turned gold and spread until the entire room seemed to be one sheet of pulsing gold. He moved slightly and a hand cupped my breast and squeezed hard and he gave a hard thrust into me and the gold shattered, the room filled with stars, flashes of lighting and the thunder of his breath and cries and it felt as if his entire body was forcing its way into mine and I wrapped myself around him like a blanket and gasped air into my lungs as he gave another thrust and we exploded together. We lay still wrapped around each other, still firmly bonded and I opened my eyes and stared up at the ceiling and the centre light pendant slowly feeling my body return to normal, not feeling tired but alive, really alive and very content, at peace. He moved and I felt his hand gently touch the side of my face and then a finger traced the line of my lips and I turned to face him. ?That was so beautiful.? His eyes were wide open but still soft. ?I felt as if I was inside you, I could feel your excitement, your passion, it was as if we had become just one body.? I nodded slowly and relaxed the grip I had on him with my arms and thighs. ?Yes, that?s exactly what happened, we became a single body and our souls danced with each other.? We lay quiet for a while until he asked, ?Shall I finish undressing you now?? I?d completely forgotten my clothes and lifted my head and felt my blouse slip off my shoulders and when I looked towards my feet, still either side of John?s I giggled. ?I?ve still got my shoes on and my panties are only half off.? ?And your skirt and petticoat will need a couple of hours of ironing it?s all scrunched up.? ?I?m surprised it didn?t catch fire. The heat down there must have been intense. I lifted myself a little higher. ?And look at you. You still have all your clothes on, it?s as well you weren?t wearing your suit.? ?I have others and I?ll gladly sacrifice a suit every time we make love if it?s going to be like it was tonight.? I let my head fall back onto the pillow and looked up at the ceiling half expecting to see scorch marks. ?God, I was shameless and my language, whatever happened to the soft romantic me that I was earlier today.? ?Blame it on the red shoes, it was the film The Devil Wears Prada.? I sat up again and slipped my blouse and bra off completely and looked down at him. ?It was terrific though, exciting, different, I don?t know what got into me.? ?It doesn?t matter, we had an experience we won?t forget and I think we?ve also proved that we belong together.? He sat up and looked at our two bodies. ?I?ll have to untangle us before I untangle your clothes.? ?Don?t untangle us too much, I want to feel all tangled up with you even when you?ve gone off to work.? 9 Johns flat was on the first floor of a block of twelve and we parked in the visitors section and entered the building. ?Where?s the lift?? I asked. ?Somebody stole it months ago so we have to use the stairs.? And he stood back and allowed me to proceed him. ?Don?t pinch my bum or we?ll have to make your bed untidy and I?m wearing a fairly tight skirt so it will make you late for work.? ?Then stop wiggling it as you climb the stairs.? ?I?m giving you something to remember whilst you?re being bored at the conference.? He chuckled. ?You did that last night.? When we entered he showed me to the kitchen which was definitely a male kitchen, there was a microwave, a grill and an oven which looked as if the door hadn?t been opened since it was installed and a coffee percolator. ?You make coffee and I?ll get changed, I?m running a bit late, you shouldn?t have given me such a large breakfast.? ?You needed it, you looked very weak this morning.? He went off to change and I prepared coffee once I had found the coffee beans inside a cupboard that also contained soap powder, an unopened packet of dusters and a tin opener and he returned just as the coffee was ready. ?Want to sit in the living room or here?? ?There?s only one chair.? ?I can stand, I don?t mind.? I picked up the coffees. ?Where?s the living room?? He took me across the hallway and we entered a nicely furnished room but one of the arm chairs was doubling up as a wardrobe and the other as a laundry basket so I sat at one end of the settee and told him to sit at the other because if he got too close to me, he would definitely be late for his meeting. ?This is a nice room, but armchairs are for sitting on, coffee tables are not book cases and vases are supposed to hold flowers, not pens, paper clips and rolled up socks.? He smiled ruefully. ?I?ve been busy and haven?t had time to sort things out.? ?So it would seem, when was the last time you did any washing?? He thought for a minute or two. ?About three weeks ago but I?ll do some tomorrow because I?m getting low on shirts and underwear.? ?I?ll stay and do it, I take it that is a washing machine next to the sink and if I open the door I won?t find it filled with spark plugs, back axles and mice will I?? He smiled. ?There?s no need to do that, you have your own place to look after and you?ve only got a few days before you go into hospital, leave it and I?ll sort it out.? ?You know you won?t, you?ll just go out and buy new shirts and stuff and the pile of laundry will grow larger and you?ll have to start using this settee. I?ll do it, where?s the washing line, in the car park?? He laughed. ?No, there?s a spin dryer next to the washing machine but leave it, you must get ready for your stay in hospital.? ?I plan ahead, everything is done, all I need to do is a few bits and pieces before I go into hospital except the clothes I wore yesterday, they?ll need a complete makeover.? ?That was your fault, you told me not to bother with undressing you.? ?I?d been drinking and didn?t know what I was saying and you took advantage.? ?And I?ll do it again if the situation presents itself.? I finished my coffee and stood up. ?Not until I get the all clear from the hospital,? and I looked at him to see how he would react. ?I know and I?ll behave,? he stood up and placed his hands on my shoulders and kissed me softly, ?I?m in love with you Emma, really in love with you and I promise I?ll do nothing that I think might harm you.? I nodded and smiled. ?You?ll have to work for both of us because I?m the one who is going to blink first and want to make love.? ?I can be a man of steel if it?s needed.? He picked up his briefcase and laptop and handed me a set of keys to the flat. ?Don?t do too much but I know if I don?t let you do a machine load you?ll sulk.? ?I?ll clean up and do a bit of hoovering and dusting as well.? ?No, Emma, leave it, I?ll have all the time in the world when you go into hospital, I can sort this place out then.? After he had gone I sorted the washing into piles, thankful that men didn?t have a lot of use for the ?Delicates? programme on a washing machine and loaded the first pile into the machine and then emptied the wardrobe chair and went off to find the bedroom where I assumed he had his wardrobes unless he was methodical in his chaos in which case the wardrobe was probably tucked away in a corner of the car park. It was in the bedroom and was occupied by an iron and ironing board which I took out and started hanging his clothes and then checked the second wardrobe which was fitted for shirts, and slacks and had neat little shelves for socks, underpants, handkerchiefs all of which were empty bar two handkerchiefs but I couldn?t complain about that, after all it was me that was using them more than him to stem my flows of tears at chic flicks and boat trips on the river and to his credit, the tie rack did hold a selection of ties. There were two piles of soiled clothes and one of sheets and pillow cases and by the time I had moved them down to the kitchen and dumped them by the washing machine, the first load was ready for drying so they went into the spin dryer and the second load of washing started its cycle. By the time I had finished the washing and drying and ironed six shirts it was past four and time I went home so I left a note; My Darling Scruffy There are six washed and ironed shirts on hangers in the utility room, (I?ve left a note on the door indicating which room it is.) Do not under any circumstances use the upright freezer in that room until I have washed and disinfected it, (unused freezers, like empty washing machines should have the doors left ajar to prevent mildew, botulinum, dysentery and MRSA,) the unusual looking object leaning against the wall is an ironing board, don?t use this either until I?ve shown you how. I have taken the rubbish out and a neighbour showed me where the communal chute was. I told her I was the cleaning lady so your reputation amongst your neighbours remains untarnished. Clean sheets and pillowcases are on the top shelf of the wardrobe and I am suspicious of your need for four pillows, so I have spritzed them with my perfume just as a warning to any other birds you invite home. Socks, underpants and hankies are in the same wardrobe and if you prefer fillet steak tonight instead of spicy deep fried salt, dinner is at eight. I love you, Emma XXXXXXX PS; If it?s been a heavy day and if you?re tired and don?t want to come over for dinner, phone and let me know. He did phone but only to thank me for all that I had done and then scold me for not taking any notice of his telling me not to do it but he still wanted to come over for dinner but was going to leave no later than eleven. ?Why?? ?Two reasons. You must be tired after all the work you?ve done in my flat and if I stay I am going to find it very difficult not to at least hold you in my arms and kiss you and once I?ve done that I might forget my promise to remain strong and aloof, you?re a difficult girl to resist, Emma.? ?You only want me for my body.? ?True but there?s your cooking as well and you are good at ironing shirts.? I?ll see you in about forty five minutes, is that okay?? ?Perfect and I still love you.? We had a lovely evening and I had pulled out all the stops on the meal which was just as well because when John arrived he had a bottle of claret that had definitely come off the top shelf and a bunch of red roses that filled three of my vases. We talked about yesterday and the picnic on the river, about dancing and how to keep a house clean and then we sat down on the settee, he with his arm around me and me with my head resting on his shoulder and listened to Beethoven and Puccini and when he tried to kiss me whilst ?One Fine Day? was being sung I stopped him. ?Don?t, John, not whilst this is playing, she?s singing about her lover, the lover who isn?t going to return to her, the lover whose arms she?ll never feel around her, it?s tempting fate.? ?You?re frightened about hospital and your operation?? ?Not in the way you mean, I?m frightened that something might go wrong and I?ll come out of it a different person, no longer in love, no wanting you beside me in a bed, nothing the same again.? The aria finished then and I turned into him and we kissed, a long, tender, soft kiss. ?I?m okay now, everything is going to be okay.? He smiled and nodded. ?I?ll remember, you?re superstitious and mustn?t be kissed during Madam Butterfly but is it okay if I kiss you during La Boheme?? ??Lovely Maid in the Moonlight? one evening when we are walking beside the river, you can be my Rudolpho.? At five to eleven my doorbell rang. ?That?ll be George come to pick me up and I haven?t helped to clear the table.? ?I?m not tired and you can?t do it anyway, you?ll drop a vase or the plates.? I went with him and we stood outside the street door and kissed again, slowly and I wanted to wriggle and squeeze in tightly but fought it. ?Samantha is coming to lunch on Sunday, would you like to join us?? ?No, I?m going to spend the weekend working at home but I?ll phone, in fact I?ll phone several times and pick you up at eight on Monday.? ?Samantha will be coming to the hospital as well. She probably wants to give the doctors and nurses several pages of instruction.? He smiled. ?I?ll have a few pages of my own and I will be staying until you?re comfortable and I?ll be back on Tuesday and then I?m staying until you come out of the operating room and I?m sitting beside your bed until you regain consciousness.? ?I?ll be poor company, there?s bound to be a bit of pain and I expect I?ll only just be aware of what?s going on, woozy and itchy.? ?Normal.? I laughed. ?Yes, normal but more so. If you can, try and stay when they change the dressings, you can have a peek and tell me what it looks like.? ?No, it would spoil your anticipation and the pleasant surprise you are looking forward to. Anyway, I would think that to peek so soon after surgery would scare me; I?m not afraid of the sight of blood, scars and stitches except seeing them on you. I love the Emma you are and the Emma you will be after you have healed and I want you to be the one to show me, so I won?t peek until you ask me to help undress you again,? and he kissed me very gently and walk slowly down the steps. I waited on the doorstep until he had climbed into the cab and kept waving until it turned into the main road. This is the end of the story. When I began, I intended to write a short story of about six thousand words but it has now grown from short story into a novella of thirty thousand and if I continue it will become a novel of eighty thousand words and then two hundred thousand and eventually a series! I always seem to stumble when attempting to write short stories, that?s how ?Vesta?s Hearth? began and I am now on Book five in the series and another short story I began with FictionMania in mind ?Footprints In The Sea? is currently standing at one hundred and seventy five thousand words and still not complete! I?ll post the first chapters on here in the near future and see how many of you enjoy reading it. I am a little disappointed that thus far, ?First Dates Are Kissing Dates? has only attracted two reviews so it would be nice if a few more of you would let me know how you feel about my work because I believe I am the only writer on FictionMania who is dealing with the main character being intersexed rather than transgendered or a transvestite. As for Emma, is she a transsexual or is she intersexed? A clue is revealed in chapter 6 whilst Emma is talking to Samantha. [email protected]