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My second date with Mitchell entailed a picnic in the park and renting mini power boats at the ‘lake’. It was such a fun day! I don’t think I’ve laughed like that in years. Just before we left, nearby a little boy choked on a piece of carrot. Mitchell was on the move before I even registered what was happening. First responder training, I guess. Incredible. Mitchell performed the Heimlich maneuver and saved him. Of course he played it down, saying he just got to the boy first, anyone could have done it. Seeing him in action was… beyond impressive. I’ll always be grateful for individuals like him who answer the calling. The fact that he looks like fucking sex on a stick in shorts and a tank top is a bonus. Based on the crowd of admiring fans – both sexes, I wasn’t the only one to notice.

My adrenaline was pumping after all the excitement, and the appeal of Mitchell’s modesty after his heroism proved to be a real aphrodisiac. On the drive home, we held hands, his thumb rubbing circles on the back of my hand. I’m sure if I weren’t seat belted in, I would have slid onto the fucking floor I was so wet. Shiiiiiit.

When he shut the car off, he moved to get out, but instead I had grabbed him and pulled him towards me. His surprise didn’t keep him from returning my kiss for long, and his lips had opened for my tongue immediately. I didn’t have to prompt him to reach under my shirt, and seek out my nipples, but thank Christ he did. I was already pushing my sex limit for a second date, but God, I was just so turned on. The sexual tension has only been rising between Mitchell and I, and when I add Trey into the mix, it’s a wonder I haven’t burned my vibrator out yet. I actually broke my fucking nail fingering myself the other night. That was a proud moment, said no woman ever.

Then he stopped. He fucking stopped. Stopped kissing me, stopped touching me. He rested his forehead against mine, his breathing almost panting. After several long moments, he exited the car. I felt rejected at first, then wondered what I had done wrong. He had opened my door and held out his hand for me. I could see his obvious boner – did he want me, or is his body just doing what it does naturally? We walked to the front door of my building, but that is where we had stopped.

“I have to say goodnight here, Jenna.” His voice was almost a whisper, and his kiss was on my cheek. What? He must have seen the look on my face because he chuckled before continuing. “I don’t trust myself to come up. Every woman I’ve ever dated before, I’d have in bed by now.” His eyes were so intense as he looked into mine.

“So why did you stop now, Mitchell?” Does he not want to have sex with me? That’d be a fucking first. Every straight man I’ve ever met has wanted to have sex with me based on my breasts alone. Met? Saw on the street, rode an elevator with, served me food in a restaurant, pumped my gas, was in my study group in college… It’s been a thing for a while, as it is for most women I would imagine. Lucky us.

He caressed my face gently, the look on his face continuing to be so focussed. I want to have sex with him. I want to sleep next to him. In his arms, listening to his heartbeat. I bet I would just disappear in his embrace. There would be safety there. Love.


Love like security. Yeah. ‘I need to settle myself down’ I was thinking to myself when Mitchell said something I never knew I wanted to hear, until I heard it.

“Because you’re not like the other women, Jenna.” Wow.

On my second date with Trey, he took me to a gun range. I’d never held a gun before in my life, but as it turns out shooting paper targets is a lot of fun. My arms don’t hold out long – I had no idea guns were so heavy! But I’m happy to watch Trey take some shots, his arms having no difficulty holding the gun. Not surprisingly, he’s quite good. We had takeout dinner from the converted double decker bus along our city’s river, which we ate on a nearby bench.

I took a plastic knife and cut each of our hot dogs in half, since they were both different and had a variety of toppings. Trey had watched me the entire time, as if I had sprouted antlers or something. I put half of my hot dog on his napkin and took half of his for me. Content, I dipped a fry and popped it into my mouth. Now Trey look appalled.

“Did you just dip your French fry in mayo?” Jesus, you would think I had just dipped it into human blood or something. I dip another one and hold it out to feed it to him. He leans back, refusing. I smiled, challenge on. The further I reach, the more he leans back.

“You’re going to end up on the ground if you’re not careful,” I laugh. “It’s not poison you know.” I eat the fry, refusing to let it go to waste. He shakes his head, insisting there is no way he’d ever eat something so gross. Oh reeeeeeally? I find a smaller fry and dip it. I looked into his eyes intensely, daring him to look away. He didn’t.

“Sure you don’t want to try even one?” My voice innocent, my eyes wide like a child. I’m not up to anything. Holding the fry, I brush it against my lips lightly. Trey’s eyes are watching, not missing a thing. I ‘accidentally’ get mayo on my bottom lip, “oops!” so of course, I need to lick it off. I see that his cock approves and has joined the party. I’m doing something right. No shit.

I slid the fry into my mouth, sucking it in with a ‘pop’ at the end. I don’t chew it right away, curious if he’ll take the bait. It’s completely fucking gross - I’m asking him to basically take food out of my mouth. Oh God, I get wet thinking about it.

I needn’t have worried, because in the blink of an eye, Trey’s lips were on mine and the fry was in his mouth. We ate the fry, tongue fucked and kissed all at the same time. It was an incredibly intimate experience – on another level from sex. We were both so in the moment, so in tune with one another – I have never been so connected with another person in my life before. Keeping in mind that we were on a very public bench, I kept one hand on his chest and the other wrapped around his neck. I wanted to unzip his pants and release him but going to jail for public exposure didn’t sound appealing. I’m not sure what exactly it was; Trey’s kissing ability, how worked up I still was from my date with Mitchell despite two rounds with my vibrator – or both, but I had a fucking orgasm right then. Un-be-liev-a-ble.

Trey’s hands on my waist kept me upright as I screamed into his mouth. As I slowly come back to reality, I realize I was clawing the shit out of him. No way that isn’t going to leave a mark. I admit I felt smug about it, the human equivalent of pissing on a tree to mark what’s mine. Disgusting. Yep. But I don’t regret a thing.

When we pull apart and sit back down, the smile on Trey’s face is huge. Cocky bastard. Then I notice his huge erection, and realize I got off, and he didn’t. Now who’s cocky buddy?

God help me on our third dates.

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