Gregory was now in my kitchen but I wasn’t quite sure what to do next. It was late, past 11 pm, and I knew I didn’t want to end up with him in my bed. This was one first date I wanted to take a little slow.
I offered him something to drink and he chose water. He’d driven to the date so I would have been surprised if he’d asked for alcohol. He looked around my main floor and commented on a variety of things which caught his eye. He loved the art. He made note of the vinyl and my gramophone: love of music is something we have in common.
It seemed obvious he was interested in me by his sheer presence, late at night on a work night, several hours after our date started. I was very aware where he was standing relative to me, but didn’t want to make the first physical move.
We talked and talked and talked. I continued to be amazed at how much we had in common. Not meaning carbon copies – I don’t want to date myself – but things like shared interests in being social, entertaining, an appreciation of live music, and a love of language and the arts.
It got to the point where our words started trailing off. I joked that I hadn’t even offered for him to sit down in my living room. I let the silence sit heavy and looked up into his eyes. We were facing each other and he stepped forward to kiss me, wrapping one arm around my waist and putting the other behind my head. Sigh.
It was a delicious first kiss. Slowly paced, teasing, waiting for each other’s physical signals. We didn’t stop, except to come up for air. Our physical chemistry was as good as the intellectual: very.
He’d put his hands on my waist, entwined in my hair behind my head, and on my ass. Everywhere hands should be in a good makeout session. He cupped my face in his hands to hold me still. He brushed my hair off my shoulder to graze his lips along my collarbone and up my neck.
He snaked his hand under my black dress shirt to feel my skin. His hand splayed across my left shoulder blade and he pulled me tight to him. I was backed against my kitchen counter and he pressed up against me. I could feel hardness beneath his jeans.
The hand beneath my shirt made its way to my hip and my ass. He almost put his hands down the front of my lace panties but he stopped himself before he got there. I was relieved; I knew I would have a hard time resisting him once he’d hooked his fingers inside me.
We would pull apart then come back together. I couldn’t stop smiling and said something goofy like “well I guess physical chemistry is a check mark.” At one point he gripped the hair on the back of my head and tugged ever so gently. I couldn’t suppress my sigh. He asked me if he was strong enough for me.
It seemed we were equally into it and very well matched. We must have kissed for well over a half an hour. I couldn’t ignore the time any longer, it was past midnight. I told him I had to go to sleep; I had a huge meeting in eight hours.
He told me it had been one of his best first dates ever.
I completely agreed.
I reluctantly walked him to my front door where we kissed some more. We expressed mutual interest in seeing each other again soon.
And as I put myself to bed that night, I shushed my cynic and told myself perhaps this time it would work out. I sent him a text before I turned out my light: “Hi Gregory, this is Ann. I had a wonderful time tonight :)”
A few minutes later he replied, “same here”.
I went to bed with a huge smile on my face.
Image from the 1949 movie “The Great Sinner”