About that date

I have to say, firstly, that as a femdom dating a submissive, having all of that BDSM stuff on the table cuts out a lot of overthinky bullshit with vanilla men about when and how to bring it up. It feels like I can breathe, which is a blessed relief.

We met at one of my favourite spots for lunch, it’s busy on a weekend. Too busy for my liking, but the view over the ocean can’t be beaten. While we hadn’t been messaging much prior to our meeting, his communication about the date itself had been great. I asked him to let me know when he left home for the 2 hour drive, which he did. He messaged me when he parked, and again when he arrived at the venue. I’d initially had a niggling fear that he might be the first potential date to stand me up since I’d done no vetting and no-shows are a well known F/m dating hazard: I’m delighted that my fear was unfounded.

There is that moment when you see each other, that ‘is that him? is it?’ which is always a little strange with dates off the internet. I’d not even asked for a full face photo before meeting (he’d offered, but then we moved on from it). But I’d forwarded a face shot, and he had no trouble finding me in that green dress (he thinks it’s blue though… it’s really not).

I bought us drinks at the bar, found some menus, and we settled in to chat.

We share a Dutch-Indonesian background, which is a common enough family history, but not here in this country. His family roots results in dark hair, olive skin, almond-shaped eyes, and full lips. He’s very pretty.

“Well this whole thing,” I said, waving my hand in front of his face, “Is totally working for you.”
His slow smile in return was a sweetness.

He’s 35, looks much younger than his years with a way of communicating that makes him younger still.

We got along just fine, but didn’t really fire up. I know that can be difficult at a first meeting because sometimes it just is, and first dates are odd and sometimes awkward affairs. I wasn’t sure if he was shy or just quiet, perhaps a little of both. He responded openly and honestly to my questions, including some he’s never thought about before and was happy to offer up an “I don’t know” when warranted. I saw a few tiny glimpses of who he is underneath, a light hidden under those layers of self containment.

We spent a couple of hours there over lunch (his treat, which was lovely) with the topics ranging from hobbies to fetishes to relationships. It was pleasant enough, I liked him, and he was happy to jump up when I asked him to get me another drink, or some more water, and you know how I love those little things. Still, there was really no THERE there. I know you know what I mean.

He said to me later, “Your blog post was correct and your intuition was spot on. The conversation between us isn’t firing, but I keep thinking about the chemistry I felt during the kiss”

It’s always a good thing when you’re on the same page.

And yes, there was a kiss :).

When we left, we stopped outside in the sunshine to say goodbye. I told him to give me a kiss because look, he’s super cute and kissing is… well.

His face registered a moment of surprise before my fingers under his chin brought his mouth to me. The kiss was sweet, soft, chaste. He made a small sound of pleasure that I wasn’t sure I heard.

“Another one,” I said, wanting to see if I’d imagined it.

I pulled him in again. His lips were soft, he didn’t push for more than I offered, matched where I was in it. I heard that brief soft sound again, almost a mewl. That kind of thing is my undoing.

“Another.” Because I wanted to hear it again.

In the next gentle languid kiss there was another tiny kitten noise, involuntary, barely there.

“One more,” I said, smiling now, at myself as much as the situation.

I paid attention as I brought his mouth to me again. There it was, that soft ‘mew’ in the kiss. Unf.

I stepped back a little to look at him.

“You’re so pretty,” I said, because he really is.

“So are you,” he replied.

And then we went our separate ways.

We exchanged a few mutually appreciative thank you messages afterwards. He thanked me for taking charge and kissing him goodbye (the phrase ‘really hot’ may have been uttered :)). It was a good date as far as dating experiences go, even if we weren’t exactly lighting anything on fire together. We haven’t really talked since except for a few pleasantries.

He’d asked me about the toy I mentioned when I talked about needing a ‘stunt cock’ for a toy review in my last post.

I sent him the link, it’s this one: Hot Octopuss Pulse III Duo.
Hot Octopuss Pulse III Duo

He messaged back: “Have a good hard think about who you want to use it with and let me know when it’s me”

*laugh* This kind of cuteness is one of the reasons I met with him.

I sat on that idea for a week to see how it felt and today I asked him if he was still interested in providing his cock for the review. He definitely is. So we will see how that pans out. Should be fun. Maybe I’ll try and record it for my podcast

Loves: 21
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4 Comments

  1. Hi Ferns,

    just have to say again how wonderful I think you are, except for wearing that dress to a first date with a submissive is a bit cruel lol

    Thanks for sharing

    Tiptease

  2. Have you ever tried to analyze what makes it “fire up” for you, at a first meet? People like to say it’s “ineffable”, but I think after it happens once or twice you can put your finger on it.

    I think for me it’s a feeling that the person is somehow very unique–completely different from anyone I’ve ever known (or known about), in interesting ways that have nothing to do with a preexisting image of the “ideal person”. Someone who makes me think there is a lot to discover.

    1. It’s less a ‘them’ thing and more an ‘us’ thing.

      That thing where we’re on the same wavelength, where banter and flirting is spot-on and effortless, where how we communicate is understood, where conversation is lively and sparkling, where their behaviour or reactions to me are viscerally appealing, or there’s some combination of ‘how they are’ that just works for me, and vice versa.

      Chemistry *shrug*.

      Ferns

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