Small Talk to Big Talk

The conversation had been the standard typical small talk one would expect from a first date between two people who scarcely knew each other. Lots of blushing. Lots of eye contact followed by embarrassed looking away. Giggles abounded.

Lacey was impressed with how well paced the meals came… delivered by Bret. There was no sounds to suggest he had help. He just knew when to excuse himself and come back with something savory for her to enjoy. More impressive, he gave her limited choices of foods to select and just showed up with it already prepped and ready to eat.

When Lacey pressed Bret to find out how he knew what she liked, he just gave a look of hunger that made her temperature rise. Clearly, Lacey noted, Bret had done his homework to find the very rare obscure information that might have been left online from her past.

The small talk started to move over to spicier racier talk. The presence of handcuffs made it hard to avoid. Lacey didn’t mind. Bret had earned significant bonus points for how subtly the topic of BDSM had moved into their first date. Skilled. Poetic. Humor filled. Respectful. And polite. Bret pushed gently but did not pry or assume. Lacey decided to open up and see just how serious Bret was.

The narrowing of Bret’s eyes was not what Lacey had anticipated would be the reaction to her revealing her naughtier preferences. Most men acted like they wanted the same and would trip up over themselves shortly thereafter. Not Bret. He turned up the heat with his eyes and searched her soul to understand what his ears had picked up.

Before Lacey could recover and ask for his thoughts, Bret excused himself and returned with desert. Vanilla ice scream and a syrup covered brownie. This time, there was a bit of darkness of the mischievous variety beaming out of Bret’s eyes. Lacey squirmed in her chair. What did this mean for the wonderful date she was having?

Time to play

At the end of the meal, Bret apologized for ending their meal chat so he could focus on cleaning up. He had to pack everything to take back and would return with the other meal options in go-containers for her to take home. Puzzled, Lacey inquired if she had done anything wrong.

Not sure what to expect, she stayed put in her seat to watch Bret. He moved about silently as he cleared the table. His facial expressions would slowly oscillate between neutral and slightly pensive. Almost as if he was ignoring Lacey’s presence.

Just when the silences was getting too loud for her heart to handle, Bret paused between trips to the back to look at Lacey with lustful hungry eyes. With a barely audible groan, he complimented her beauty and thanked her for patiently waiting for part two of their date.

Lacey struggled to keep her excitement contained. She was not ready to end things. Their connection felt deep. Spiritual even. Bret made her feel safe and comfortable talking to him. The trepidations she had earlier was gone. The attention to details spoke to her as if Bret had known all along what she needed.

If the first portion of the date was this good, Lacey was excited to see what Bret could do now that he had her attention.

Standing and offering to help, Lacey was happy that Bret accepted her offer and gave her a quick tour of the place. Cozy, artsy, and small. The “back” was just a subdivision of the room that Bret had used to setup the food preparations. Professionally done. Power was provided by a large battery pack that ran both the heat range and the cooling system for the place. All of that had to be trucked in, as far as Lacey could tell.

The two flirted a lot while doing the dishes. A few hip checks, a few strategic bumps into each other timed to coincide with laughter. Lacey finally caught Bret’s eyes checking her body out. The look was warm. Inviting. Respectful. Yet sensual. Not lingering. Lacey gave a little wiggle to allow the curves to do what they do best. Bret’s calm gentlemanly demeanor did not waver, but his comment about staying focused said it all for Lacey.

Once everything was packed and put away, the two of them had gotten pretty familiar with being super close. The desire to rip each other’s clothing was super strong. The need to feel the passion was threatening to melt their clothing off. True to his form, Bret kept a cool appearance. In control. Steady. Yet charming.

The announcement that the second part of the date was a few miles away left Lacey puzzle as to what would happen. Most guys would have taken the chance to score more intimacy and a kiss. Bret’s eyes were fired up. The excitement about what was to come was intense. There was eagerness that excited Lacey.

When Lacey protested that the heat outside was less fun than the cool of a motel, Bret’s smack of her rear made her gasp with glee as she saw his eyes start to undress her. Playing coy, Lacey played being upset at such a strong manly swat at her rear. Bret didn’t seem to register the mockery, instead threw down a gauntlet.

The first person to arrive to the second location was going to control the pace of the date and how hot things got. Then, darted out the front. Lacey followed in hot pursuit.

Watching Bret jump on his mountain bike was very pleasing to the eyes. The man moved like a trained athlete accustomed to winning. The motion, the muscle tightening, the playful energy. Lacey licked her lips. This was too easy. Her v8 would easily win and Bret would be hers to devour as sinfully as she pleased.

Bret watched with raging anticipation as Lacey secured herself behind the wheel. Her guards were down. He was seeing her inner beauty shine and she looked better than ever. He breast had captivated his imagination as his thoughts moved a bit ahead in time. He’d enjoy watching them move up and down as her breath changed pace… when he’d sweep ice cubes across them as he’d orchestrated her delights.

Time to go. The ropes in his back pack would be used very well. There were places his bike could go that the SUV could not. This was going to be a true rabbit vs tortoise race. Only difference, Lacey would be begging for his manhood.

With a strong start, Bret heard the sand being blasted by spinning tires as Lacey tore off into the distance heading towards the special spot. It was a good thing Bret had not overeaten. The window of victory was narrow. The idea of having a spreader bar holding Lacey open fueled him to push himself to his limits. There were cuffs that needed testing. The look of mischief radiated from underneath his helmet. Lacey had no idea what was coming to her

Poor Bret, Lacey thought from within the comfort of her air conditioned Suburban. Watching him take off, in her mirrors, was a turn on. The man was built strong. He moved with grace and astonishing speed. Lacey had under estimated Bret’s abilities. He was not an average cyclist. He moved at olympic speeds. And he was taking the short way. Lacey buried the gas pedal and savored the sound of the eager v8 roaring to server her needs. Bret would not win and she would have him cuffed to her bumper as she rode him until he was thoroughly spent.

With a naughty smirk, she made the series of turns with expert precision. Her needs were about to be met by the stallion called Bret. Lacey could not afford to lose this race, especially with her winning track record.

To be Continued