The First Date #3
Before I could ask more, Brad again tapped the table twice; not that I needed the warning, but Gisele might. He cleared our plates and swiftly brought us the second course.
Crisp, bright flavors, acidity, and sweetness all greeted my palate.
A salad with fruit and a tangy vinaigrette constituted our second course.
Again Gisele made her purring noises, enjoying the food too damn much, so much that by the time we were done with this course, I was shifting in my seat.
A heavy pressure built on the back of my spine and between my legs.
Getting aroused like this…it felt like the actions of my sixteen-year-old self and not the almost forty-year-old I was.
This woman had an interesting effect on me.
“So, if you’ve never dated outside of your church, it makes me wonder again why you decided to date me?”
A weighted pause developed between us as the chatter, the violin music, and the clatter of silverware competed for space.
“I’m keeping my options open.” The shrug that I couldn’t see was still loud.
“I respect that. I might not be God-fearing, but I recognize there is a higher power.” Now, I wouldn’t go into details of what I thought of said higher power and what it did and didn’t do for my mother…
“Mhm, there seems to be a lot in that statement,” she said. I chuckled, unwilling to antagonize her on our first date.
After that, the conversation kept flowing easily.
I decided to give her space about her recent church departure, knowing it was a hard topic for her.
We were just getting to know each other tonight.
There was plenty of time for deeper conversations.
In the same vein, she didn’t ask about my father, nothing to trigger any awkwardness. I appreciated her tact.
Through the courses, I learned she was a hospital administrator. Besides being in the choir, she’d also served in several church committees and volunteered with the Gifted Athletes Center of Broward. For fun, she liked going to concerts and anything related to singing.
“It’s my happy place, music, song. It uplifts me no matter my mood. I try not to wallow too much. I mean, I’m human, I have bad days, but for the most part, I’m blessed, so I try to keep my spirits up. Music helps.”
As Brad served us another glass of red wine, she went into animated conversation about her family.
She was close to her mother even though she implied her mom wasn’t too happy with her latest decision, and her father had passed away a few years back.
Her friendship circle seemed limited; when I asked, she demurred, explaining she had a best friend, but they were both very busy and hadn’t had time to connect in a minute.
“How about you?” she asked as we waited for dessert after a satisfying surf and turf.
“I have my siblings. They can be a pain, but they a’ight, and I’ve made really good friends with other Dominants in the community.”
“Oh, so you’re a Dom?”
“Yes, Gisele, I’m a Dom.” The corner of my mouth curled up as her voice squeaked—sweet and sudden, a popped champagne cork.
“I see. Oh, so do you, like…have a submissive right now? Like, how does it work for you?”
“You’re asking an awful lot of questions for a goody two-shoes church girl,” I drawled, and her sweet breath tickled my nose.
“I…I’ve always been so fascinated by the whole lifestyle; some of it aligns real well with obedience and stuff.” She mumbled the last words, trying to get them out so fast I might have missed them.
But I didn’t miss a thing.
“Speak up, Gisele,” I ordered, something in her calling to something in me.
“I—well. Y’know, traditional marriages and all. I mean, how different is it?”
Laughter threatened to overtake me. Here I wanted to pursue a vanilla relationship with this woman, and she couldn’t help but be intrigued by my lifestyle.
Younger me…younger me would have pounced on this opportunity, loving every second of it.
Loving the sweet relish in guiding her through her awakening, the enjoyment of every scene I crafted for her.
Then, once she was enmeshed in the community, I would ensure she ended up with a good Dom, someone who could offer more than I could ever give.
“Do traditional husbands spank their wives with paddles when they disobey? Do they deny them orgasms until they can’t talk?
Or do they suspend them in beautifully arranged bondage for other Doms to admire?
” I asked, the gravel in my voice increasing as my stomach tightened, tense until she responded.
Rapid breathing was her only answer. Nah, I needed to rein in this conversation.
Tap-tap.
“And for the finale, I have dessert. I hope you have enjoyed your night with us and hope to greet you again soon! Our menus change nightly. Enjoy,” Brad said cheerfully and tapped again to announce his departure.
“Saved by the server,” Gisele mumbled, and the table vibrated as she searched for her silverware.
“Stop, I’ll help you with this one. Are you good with that?” I asked.
“Yes…yes, I am.”
I wanted to show her; she needed to see that the lifestyle wasn’t for her. Gisele was reserved, quiet, and so steeped in her beliefs. I didn’t want to be the person to guide her away from her principles, no matter how I felt about them.
With gentle touches, I found the dessert on my plate.
Whatever it was felt warm in my fingers.
With my empty hand, I ghosted my fingers across the table until I found hers.
A jolt of energy traveled between us as I caressed her velvety skin up her arm, following the slope of her shoulder, the delicacy of her neck, my fingers gliding up her jaw.
My thumb traced the edge of her jaw, then pressed up, slow and deliberate, until her lips parted with a soft hitch of breath—just enough pressure to make her flinch, just enough to make her want more.
“Open wide,” I said calmly, and another jolt traveled from her skin to mine.
Her adorable squeak adorned audible pants as she attempted to remain in control.
It was cute of her to try. I pressed the soft concoction between her warm lips.
The pressure of her tongue shyly peeking out to taste even more coursed through me.
The wet slide of the tip touched my fingers and a rush of rightness hit me square in the chest.
She closed her mouth against my hand and the purring began.
“What do you taste?”
“Cinnamon, cream cheese, lemon, sugar. So good.”
“Okay, now feed me,” I coaxed her, mouth dry, and her warm breath tickled my hand. I grudgingly let go of her jaw and waited in the pitch dark for her move.
When I thought she wouldn’t comply, her warm touch fluttered around my cheek and jaw until her trembling fingers grazed my bottom lip.
My nails bit into my palms as she obeyed my order—slow, unquestioning, like her mind already knew her Master.
It shouldn’t have felt that good. But it did.
Too damn good. I opened under her touch and sweet flavors inundated my senses.
Her fingers tasted equally as sweet, and without thought, I sucked her index and thumb into my mouth, biting the tip of her finger until she gasped and purred in satisfaction.
“I love how you fed me. You like to be obedient, don’t you?” I said, my voice coming straight from the pit of my belly, rough and deep.
“Ahh…”
“Thank you, lovely folks, for this wonderful dinner. We hope you enjoyed all the courses Chef Romero prepared for you tonight! We have several top Chefs in the city who cook for us in these dark dining experiences, so we hope you come and visit us soon.” The same Black woman from before stood by the exit, the details in of the room revealing themselves under dim??????????????????????? amber light.
Gisele sat across me, pupils dilated, her chest rising and falling rapidly, cheeks flushed.
A little bit of the dessert was in the corner of her lip, and the urge to taste her overwhelmed me.
This had gone way past my plans for tonight.
I wanted to take my time with her. I wanted to know her deeply before anything else.
“You have a little dessert on the corner of your mouth,” I said, pulling my phone out and ensuring I wouldn’t fall deeper into temptation.
She nodded and used her napkin to wipe herself.
“Ready?” I asked, letting her linger in the fraught tension I had created for her. One night and Gisele had me slipping with her gasps, purrs, and her rich voice.
Outside, the warm breeze helped calm my adrenaline. Gisele stood close to me, her body leaning closer as if we were tethered. My chest tightened at the allure of her easy submission. It was so natural to her.
“Next week Friday. We’re going out,” I said.
“Alright…I guess you’re not asking?” she said with her lips quirking up.
“Nah, you’re right, I should ask. Are you available next week?”
She moved closer to me, and for the first time, her soft scent greeted me. Fresh linen and sunshine, that was how she smelled. I let her get close, watching her intently.
“I am, and I really enjoyed this dinner. It was…enlightening. I look forward to seeing you again.” Her top teeth dug into her bottom lip and she raised her gaze to me.
For a second, I got lost in her eyes, the delightful, hopeful shine tempting me to bend and seize her lips until I drank all her sweetness.
But I’d promised myself I’d take it slow with her.
I wanted her to be clear about my intentions.
“Thanks. This was everything I wanted it to be, and I can’t wait for it to be next week.” I leaned in, whispering in her ear, and took a big step back, broadening the distance between us.
Her eyes widened and her mouth opened in a pout.
The things I could teach that mouth…
“Your car is here.” I nodded behind her, and she turned around and saw the vehicle.
“When did you order this?” she asked, perplexed and a little put out.
“When I realized if this car wasn’t outside waiting for you, I’d be tempted to kiss you senseless. So be a good girl and get in before I change my mind,” I ordered her.
She squinted at me, that same will that she showed me in the grocery store shining through. For a minute, I thought she’d defy me, but she swiftly hopped in the car.
“Goodnight, Jo?o. I hope your night is as…frustrating as these last few minutes.” She poured sugar on her words and closed the door before I could say anything else.
She had jokes and was lucky not to be acquainted with my palm tonight.
The car drove away and waves of ideas for our next date flooded my mind.