Second Chance

at a

First Impression

Edward

I am sitting in one of the two armchairs in the corner of Panera Bread. I took care with my appearance, wearing dockers and a polo. My leg is tapping a rhythm on the floor. I’m not even attempting to stop it, as I know it’s a battle I’ll lose. I did successfully stop myself from running my nervous fingers through my hair. Instead I rubbed my fingertips down from my cheeks to my chin. My face is smoo-ooth since I shaved just before I left the house. Being clean-shaven has a whole new meaning, a second chance at a first impression. Last Sunday, while explaining why she sat in the same two armchairs alone, I informed Dee that I hadn’t shaved and didn’t want to look like a bum or a homeless person when we first met. No bum or a homeless vibe today. 

I have my laptop open with my most recent story on the screen. I got here early with every intention to edit it while I waited. Yet, with my anticipatory anxiety I was only accomplishing watching the clock and the restaurant door. I resist the urge to look at Yahoo again by closing my computer. Logically, I know she confirmed our meeting in an email sent at 11:41pm last night. It is only 10 minutes after the hour. Well, 10 minutes and 32 seconds, but whose counting?

I jump when my cell tweets alerting me to a text. I take my phone out of my pants pocket and read a similar text to the one a week ago, “OMW. Once more wearing my blue t-shirt dress and pink raincoat. Again, love one of those mango smoothies and a glass of ice water.”

I think, “Pink raincoat? Why is she wearing any color raincoat?” It was rainy last Sunday, but today the sky is clear.

~*~*~*~

Dee

I am sitting in my car in front of Panera prepping for my meeting. Once ready, I toss my underwear onto the floor, out of sight. Then I carefully pick up my computer bag so I don’t soil the handle. I strategically parked my car so that, on my way to the restaurant entrance, I will walk by the windows behind the armchairs. Through the glass I recognize Edward from his picture. I’m pleased he’s made an effort with his appearance including a clean-shaven face (my Collarspace profile does include that this is my preference).

Without breaking my stride I take note of Edward's first tell, his knee bouncing up and down. Quickly see a second tell, his hands are matching the beat on the outside of his closed laptop. My lips curl in a smile when I see his gaze is trained on the door.

“Good boy,” I think when I see my requested drinks on the side table.

When I created a new profile on CS requesting help with e-publishing, I hadn’t anticipated I’d be asking if a man wanted to work with me as a peer or as a slave. After reading Edward’s profile that question just seemed a natural one. Now I’m approaching this first meeting in a unique way. A way I’m characterizing as an initial measure of D/s dynamics between us. I’m throwing in a dash of kink to reassure James I’m not taking advantage of a submissive’s vulnerability. No luring him to my car, just the women’s restroom. This unique way is the reason I spent a few minutes prepping in my car before heading into the restaurant.

~*~*~*~

Edward

Despite my diligence at watching the door, Dee is nearly to my chair when I notice her. She tosses her laptop case on the empty armchair and turns to face me. As I start to rise Dee gently pushes me back down with her right hand on my shoulder. Then she brings her left hand up to my face and holds it there.

I hesitate. “Does she want me to kiss it?” I lean my laptop against my chair and reach for her hand with both of mine. I lick my lips then lightly brush them across the back of her hand.

After the kiss, Dee removes her hand from mine and rubs damp middle and pointer fingers on the skin between my lips and nose. My forehead wrinkles in confusion. “What is she…?” Then I smell the sweet odor of a woman’s arousal. “Oh my god! Has she just rubbed cum on my face?” Before I answer my own question, Dee slips her two perfumed fingers between my open lips.

She leans in and whispers in my ear, “Edward, Suck my fingers clean.” Even though her first words to me are a whisper tickling my ear, I know a command when I hear one. I dutifully start sucking and swirling my tongue around each digit until I no longer taste her essence.

Once Dee pulls her fingers out of my mouth she grabs my right hand with her saliva-coated one. She pulls my hand under the hem of her dress and presses its palm against her thigh. While enjoying the taste of her, I had not noticed Dee placing her knee on the edge of my chair. This position hiked her dress up a few inches. Her raincoat is large on her and it is billows out offering privacy. I have enough wits about me to recognize why she is wearing this coat on a sunny day.

Dee brings her lips to my ear a second time, “I also shaved before our meeting.” She guides my hand up her smooth thigh. I’m incredulous. My highest hopes were for an air hug. Not knowing what to do I fall back on my training and let her take charge. Once at the apex of her thighs Dee cups my hand over her mound. Looking at her for approval, I inch my hand up to brush my fingers through her curly hairs. She puts her middle finger over mine and slides both into her warm moist center. Dee maneuvers my finger onto her swollen pink pearl and encircles it a couple times. I’ve been watching her face and am pleased at the hitch in her breathing when I apply pressure on her clit.

Dee steps back shrugging her coat off her shoulders. My hand falls down. I turn it, watching how it glistens in the light. Once again she brings her mouth to my ear. She takes the lobe between her teeth and bites down just hard enough for it to hurt. I think, “My god she’s the master of subtlety!” I instinctively know the gifts of her cum and exploration of her nether regions was the carrot -and- the nip on my ear is the threat of the stick.

She whispers a third time, “Edward, clean your hand… all of your hand. Then grab our computers and follow me to the women’s restroom. And yes, I said the women’s restroom. If you don’t see me outside the doors, I’ll be in the large stall in the back.”

With her clean right hand she tilts my head back and rubs her thumb over my lower lip. Softly she says, “Edward, don’t disappoint me.” Just a few minutes after meeting me and without raising her voice above a whisper, Dee has me wrapped around her cum-wet little finger.

Without conscious thought I start licking my hand. I am oblivious of any other customers watching me. My focus is two worries. First, how am I going to cross the entire restaurant with a steel rod tenting my pants? I come up with a two-part solution, an awkward solution, but it will get the job done -- tuck my cock down my pant leg and use the computers as a shield. My second worry is unquantifiably worse, “I had better not disappoint.” I can’t allow myself to start listing the infinite possible consequences if I do.

~*~*~*~

Dee

I’m leaning up against the bathroom wall with my dress around my waist and my foot resting on the toilet lid. I move my fingers around my petals just fast enough and hard enough to keep my engine on idle. I feel my juices cooling on my thighs. I don’t clean myself. That is Edward’s job, if he comes…

?to be continued?