Dating / Online dating

Lola Meets Pierce For The First Time

A couple of months ago, I wrote this about a guy I met online by doing my own customized search:

I found a man who has intrigued me greatly.  I sent him an email and he initiated a chat with me.  Firstly, let me say this: Hilarious. He is hilarious. Our first chat was great as far as first chats go. Not your prototypical what do you do, what are your hobbies, blah blah boring blah…but somehow we circumvented that stuff and were able to just talk like good friends would. After that first chat, I really liked him and felt like we were similar. Several emails later, we chatted again last night. Into the wee hours of the morning we typed; for about 2 hours I guess. During which time I literally laughed my ass off due to the absolute hilarity of our interaction. This guy is a gem, I can just feel it.  He requested to take me out to lunch and I told him I would like to wait a week to get my feet under me in this new world. I told him that while it may seem somewhat boring, since I am the only one in charge of me these days that I figured I had better stop racing full speed ahead without thinking things through a bit. He said, no problem, he would happily wait a week and would not become pushy even if I was boring him stiff. He is just the type I like, very well-traveled, intelligent, witty, adventurous, open-minded, and has excellent writing skills (in fact the latter is what drew me in to his profile).  I feel attraction to him even though I have never met him. I wonder what it will be like when we do meet? Hmm. Such a scary and exciting thought.

Well, we didn’t wait a week, as I indicated above that I thought I should, and we didn’t meet for lunch or coffee. In fact, I believe it was just a couple of nights later that we found ourselves chatting online late in the evening, when he said, “I think you should just meet me now. Let’s just go get a drink.”  He was right, I knew he was right. There was no point in delaying the inevitable. I really was liking him, and I was wondering what it would be like to meet him. Okay, I said. I’ll see you in 30 minutes he said. As I flew around my house trying to find something to wear that would make it seem as though I had been sitting around all night looking sexy, I found myself panicking. Thirty minutes? Why did I not say 45 ? Am I crazy? I can’t pull myself together in 30 minutes! I was a complete basketcase, clothes were flying on and off in a frenzy as I frantically pulled out one pair of shoes after another from my wardrobe. I tried to regain my composure by telling myself that it wasn’t that big of a deal what I put on, because he really likes me and I’m an attractive woman. But as soon as I had that thought, the next thought was; but this is the first impression, it has to be good. It only happens once. Oh wow. That’s no pressure. Okay woman, I said to myself. Pull it together. It will be what it will be. Get the heck out of here and go meet him so you can find out what that is. And with a touch of lip gloss and fresh mascara, off I went to meet prince charming.

When I arrived at the bar (15 minutes later than I was supposed to) and saw him casually leaning against the back of the bar stool watching the Cubs game,
 I felt the nervousness take hold even further. I saw him glance towards the door and our eyes met, and there was no time for nervousness, this was it…we were finally meeting.  As I walked the very short distance towards him, I felt almost as though I was on a long modeling runway, on display. As I stepped forward, I remembered to hold my head high and put a strut in my step. I had a million thoughts in my head but none of them seemed clear. And when I reached his chair and leaned forward to kiss him on the cheek, it felt rough against my soft lips, and I melted. Oh, my God, I thought to myself. He needs a shave, that is so damn sexy and virile. What a manly man! Oh boy, I might be in trouble with this one. I perched myself on the bar stool next to him and took him in. Wow. He is even better looking than I had anticipated, I really scored with this one. He was just the perfect size, well-built but not muscle-bound. Broad shoulders, a wide square jaw, soft black hair and kind eyes. His smile is what really did it for me. What a great smile! His eyes crinkled up as his cheeks rose and lips parted, revealing a row of very nice teeth. I glanced at his attire and was quite impressed. A nice black fitted short sleeve shirt with some textured lines stretched across his broad chest, while lower, a pair of snug faded blue jeans begged my attention. I daringly took a peek at the shoes and almost died. Oh my God, he even has sexy shoes on. They were the European style kind of loafers that I love. I looked back at his amused expression as he was motioning towards my outfit and back towards his. I didn’t get it at first, and then I realized we were wearing the same thing. Black shirts and faded blue jeans. Mine had some holes in them for extra style, and I wasn’t wearing loafers, but high heels. How very cute of us to be matching.  It wasn’t long before his hand found mine as we talked, and I found myself feeling very nervous about it. I guess that was fairly clear by the clamminess in my hand, and he actually noted it. For some reason, him mentioning it seemed to ease my nervousness instead of embarrassing me. I liked that about him, he didn’t ignore the elephant in the room, (at this point in time, my incredibly clammy, sweaty palm.)  I did find myself cursing the sweaty palm only because I didn’t want him to stop holding my hand. But the more I thought about it, the worse it got. Oh for God’s sake, I thought. This NEVER happens to me. He seemed rather unfazed by it, continued to hold my sweaty hand and he chattered on. About what? God only knows. I didn’t care. As he talked, I found myself thinking, wow, he’s so sexy. I just had no idea I would be this attracted to him.  And when I found myself glancing down to see what I might find nestled between his strong legs, my temperature rose even further. Good Lord woman, I thought to myself, what are you doing? You’re checking out his package 10 minutes into the date? Yeah, I guess I am, I thought, gleefully. And why the hell not?! I unabashedly turned my attention back downward for a moment just to be sure I had seen correctly. Yep. It looks substantial. This is a good thing.

He got up to go to the restroom and he paused behind my stool for a moment before departing. Somehow, (and I’m still not sure how), in that moment our lips met and we began to kiss. Right there at the bar, with people all around us. But I didn’t care, it felt good when our tongues entwined in a deep kiss which seemed to be the perfect wetness and pressure. The room began spinning, or was that my bar stool actually turning? Who knows, who cares!? We parted naturally, after a moment. and he happily smiled down at me. He seemed quite pleased with the kiss and with me. I smiled back at him, wondering what on earth would happen now.


5 thoughts on “Lola Meets Pierce For The First Time

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