Halò - Hello
Bràthair - Brother
M'eudail - My Dear/My Darling
Wednesday night, the same night I met the confident sexy man named Lewis, is a quiet night. I've been listening to music since CeCe left around five at the end of her shift, dancing along to songs that aren't normally dancing songs and cleaning off tables or the floors. I had restocked most of the food on the shelves under the counter I've been at all day, same with cups or napkins and I've cleaned the coffee machines as Miss Parry prefers.
My boss is a very clean lady, not obsessively but she likes to run a clean business, meaning all the machines are cleaned twice a day; Before Lunch rush and after closing. The floors and counters are the same, the food shelves cleaned then restocked. I think it's nice, some coffee shops I've been to smelt of only coffee or weren't as clean as one would think.
Miss Parry won't allow that. She had installed fragrance sprays in the ceiling, ones that occasionally spray a homey and welcoming scent to go with the fresh coffee smell. It's something I would have never thought of and I'm glad she did because every time I walk in it feels like I'm home and all the stress I normally have is lifted off me. It benefits working too, keeps me focused, and not as stressed as I could be.
I've had a great day, at least during and after Lewis and his friend left. Granted my skin was still flushed an hour after he left, the memory of him flirting and complimenting me forcing the blush to return. CeCe had teased me relentlessly, singing 'Tom and Lewis sitting in a tree K-I-S-S' along with the entire song that goes with it. She had told me many times to text him and speak to him, but I want to wait for when he does it first- if he even does.
I like his confidence and how he took control of the situation when he was here, I think many men may have misunderstood my reaction and left me alone. Lewis had read me correctly and made sure I knew he was interested in me, with as many compliments he gave me and his flirting, especially with the urges to save his number. He didn't make me uncomfortable or nervous, which is a miracle with his size and general appearance; he's intimidating, but he deliberately made himself smaller to appear non-threatening to me.
It's something I never saw a man do before, normally men- especially my age, and Lewis seemed only a few years older- appear to believe that being big and cocky will make a potential partner more willing to date them. They puff their chests out, fight, be assholes, and overall just give out a vibe of toxic masculinity. They wouldn't make themselves smaller to make another person feel comfortable, especially if they think that they are already everything a person could ever want.
Lewis wasn't like that, he was sweet to me and he was charming. Making himself smaller and keeping his eyes on my face, I may not have breasts like women but I can still feel sick and uncomfortable when I'm looked at like a sex object. Lewis never went over that invisible line when you meet someone new and are interested in them; never tried to touch me, said inappropriate things, or treated me badly. He was respectful and most importantly, to me as I'm searching for one, he appeared dominant to me.
The way he handled himself around me, watched my reactions, and gave subtle orders of what I was to do in the middle of casual sentences. From what I experienced with dominant, William, and what I've read, he gave off dominant vibes. I'm completely okay with that, although I may be getting my hopes up.
It's after I close up the coffee shop and begin my walk home, I don't like public transportation at night; that my phone vibrates. I always keep it on silent or vibrate while I work as to not distract me and never turned the volume back up before I left, the movement against my ass makes me jump.
It alerted me to a notification for a message when I pull my phone from my back pocket, a contact I never thought would show up on my screen. 'Lewis, hot guy from work' is displayed innocently in front of me, eyes wide and a suspicious tingling from my stomach as my heart beats faster, I quickly open it.
'Hey, gorgeous, remember me?'
Then another pops up, 'better have my number saved, I'd love to see you again'
A disbelieving giggle escapes my throat, he wants to see me again. He's seen me and wants to meet again, having never met me through Instagram. He called me gorgeous. I can't remember the last time someone called me that, pretty or cute maybe but never gorgeous. Blush flames on my face rereading the text, butterflies fluttering in my stomach.
The text I send back isn't anything special, even after fighting with myself over what to say and erasing what I type over and over. 'Hi! Number saved, promise!'
I let out a deep sigh when it's sent, doubting myself on if that's a good response or what if he expected a compliment or not. Continuing my walk home I watch the screen for a message, to my surprise not even two minutes after receiving mine, he responds.
'Good! Now, cute Tommy Boy, tell me what you're up to.'
The blush worsens as I read it, he thinks I did good and it makes me proud of myself for saving his number even if I felt nothing would come of it. What he said wasn't a question, it was a command -or I read it like one- and it sends a pleasant shiver down my spine. I'm taking it as a good sign that he's taking the lead in this conversation, and that he's confident enough to start telling me what to do.
I find it attractive and extremely weight lifting, being told what to do eliminates any anxiety I had over finding a subject to talk about with him. Lewis stating what he wants to know about me helps me a lot. It encourages me to reply quickly as I tell him exactly what I'm doing, 'I'm walking home after closing the coffee shop.'
I have to glance up and around to make sure I'm not lost or being followed by creeps, finding I'm almost home. I have a few buildings to pass before I get to my apartment complex, usually, it'd be a quick walk but I'm texting and don't want to run into anyone. The phone vibrates, gaining my full attention.
'This late? It's nearly 7:30'
It's immediately followed by, 'Text me when you get home, don't want to distract you. Watch for strangers or vans.'
Blinking, I send an easy 'okay'. I find it sweet he didn't want to distract me from my surroundings, I could very well be hurt by someone being so invested by my phone, especially alone at night. In October, it gets darker faster and it makes sense he'd be concerned by me walking by myself in the dark. It's pleasant to have someone, especially an intriguing and impressive man like Lewis, caring for me in a way such as this. He's telling me he doesn't want me hurt and that he's willing to make sure I'm safe, despite only meeting me today.
My heart beats faster at the thought of him continuing to care for me, and my body develops pleasant tingles. I'm happily smiling and I decide to jog the rest of the way to my apartment complex, purely to talk to Lewis again faster. I wish he'd called me, it'd make me feel safer alone on the street, and I adore his voice. It's one of the things I instantly fell in love with.
As CeCe loves to point out my voice kink, or fetish- they're the same thing, right? I've had it since I hit puberty and got turned on at every deep voice I heard; it was awkward when my math teacher spoke to me as I would almost immediately get a boner from the deep gravely voice of his. It's also how I realized I was gay, turns out not everyone likes men's voices. Lewis's voice the deepest I've heard, probably because of his height, and it's gravely and demands respect. I could listen to him speak all day and most likely come from just that.
Lewis's beard also supports his attractiveness to me, as another kink of mine is beards. I don't understand why, but seeing a man with a luscious beard that I can play with, not too short yet not too long, that is cared for and trimmed and cleaned- is delicious. I think it has something to do with how primal it appears, I always compared it to lions since Animal Planet taught me more than my school; lionesses like males with a blacker mane because they have higher levels of testosterone, which make them aggressive, in turn, that makes him better at defending mates and babies.
From this, I assume my beard kink is primal. I'm attracted to larger men than me, I like strong men and I like the typical dominant actions or vibes they give. If it was the caveman days and two men fought for me, you better believe I'd the winner fuck me until I passed out, then keep going. Because of the idea of a man fighting for me, all strong and dominant then proving his dominance is a good way to make me swoon from sheer pleasure.
Lewis, so far, checks off my list as the dream boyfriend I want. Looks, voice, and beard. Now all he has to do is show me he likes or is okay with my kinks and has a great personality. From what I've seen when we meet, I think his personality will be incredible.
It doesn't take very long for me to enter my apartment building then take the sketchy elevator to the third floor, my apartment is the last one on the right corner of the floor. I make a mad dash to my door, hastily unlock it, and enter as if a killer is on my tail. Flicking on the lights absently while I unlock my phone and go to the conversation thread of mine and Lewis.
Double-checking the message, I anxiously wait for him to respond. 'I'm home, safe, and sound. No vans or creepy people.'
I distract myself by putting my key and phone to the apartment on the kitchen counter next to the door and moving to the refrigerator to get a bottle of water. My apartment is small, the living room and kitchen connect and there's a small hallway to the bathroom and one bedroom. The kitchen is only a small counter space with a sink and oven, the refrigerator on the far left in the corner, the floor is hardwood like the rest of the apartment in which I prefer. Carpets get ruined faster and easier, and I'm clumsy when tired or just woken up.
The living room is messy with art supplies in every direction, on the small coffee table in front of the couch that has a worn, paint-covered blanket over it. There's a thin tarp covering the floor, so I don't ruin the nice hardwood, it's also decorated in splats of different colored paint. My drawing pencils and pens are under the small tv on the black glass tv stand, along with sketchbooks and smaller canvases. In the middle of the room is a stand with a bigger canvas that has half the surface painted, that's my latest project.
In the middle of swallowing my gulp of water is when my phone vibrates on the counter, I nearly choke as I slide to the space I placed my phone. Unlocking it and rereading the message displayed on our thread. 'Good, I'm glad you listened to me. What are you doing now?"
A smile is quick to spread on my face, he didn't say 'good boy' or I'm proud' but that's what I imply to myself, solely because I desire for Lewis being a dominant. If he isn't, I'd be disappointed as he would have, as far as I've seen, made a good dominant. He's patient with me, he's great at giving reassurance and he knows how to make someone feel special. Those are some traits dominant I've seen have, granted it's mostly online because I don't go anywhere, but if I did I bet there would come doing as Lewis had.
'I'm gonna get changed out of day time clothes, then probably work on my project'
Biting my lip, I reread it before sending it, checking my spelling and considering if I should ask him what he's doing or if I should add more to my response, deciding that if he asked me what I'm doing I should stick with what he specifically asked for, just to be safe. Once it's spent, I take my phone and water to the bedroom to start changing to distract myself from starting at the screen to read the next message.
My bedroom isn't very messy, most of the time I don't come in here besides to sleep or change clothes. That said, stray pants or shirts are laying around and my bed is unmade, as it is all the time. My closet always looks like a bomb went off since I forget to put things back once I'm changed, that's probably one of the reasons why I never know what I'm wearing until after I get to work.
The clothes I usually wear to bed are, surprisingly, on my bed; shorts and a large black hoodie with a multitude of paint colors on it. I'm pulling my shorts on when my phone vibrates again, causing me to nearly fall over. When I'm situated, I check the message. 'Project, that a school thing or a you thing?'
'A me thing, I'm done with school, I am eighteen. It's a dumb art thing I do, something to keep me occupied.'
This time, I don't get to put down the phone as Lewis instantly responds. 'Not dumb, boy, don't call something you enjoy dumb. I'm sure it's great if it makes you happy. Show me when you're finished.'
Another smile forces itself on my face, happy Lewis is interested and defending my artwork from myself. I've never been the most confident in my work, which is one of the reasons I haven't figured out a way to make money off them. I'd love to earn money with my artwork and see other people enjoy it too, but I'm nervous and scared it would fail immediately.
Another message pops up, 'Have you ate today, cutie?'
Blinking, I try to remember if I have had something to eat and come up blank. I don't think I did, we were kinda busy and I was too distracted to eat lunch or a snack. 'No, I don't think so. I can't remember if I did.'
Not even a second later, 'After you change, go find something to eat. A whole meal, not a sandwich or some snacks. It's not good to go without eating.'
I nod, even if Lewis can't see me. Loving the fact I'm being told and not asked to find something to eat. 'Okay, I will.'
I'm quick about taking my shirt off and throwing on my hoodie before I go back to the kitchen, holding my phone and water, increasing the volume on my phone. I don't have much to eat, as I mainly eat small amounts of a few items I really like, such as Mac 'n Cheese and mashed potatoes or a single serving of chicken parmesan. I message Lewis back to tell him what I have, just because I can't and don't want to choose what to eat.
'Make the mac and cheese, for now, a big serving. If you're hungry before bed, make a small bowl of mashed potatoes. When do you go to bed, boy?'
He won't like my bedtime, I can already tell. My sleeping schedule is horrendous. In an attempt to distract him, I anxiously change the subject. 'So, the weather, huh?'
Facepalming myself, I start getting everything ready to make the mac and cheese. Boiling water, the box, a pot to cook. I had just put the pot of water on the stove when my phone dings with a message again. 'Cute. Answer the question.'
Sighing, even if I love this whole conversation, I type it out and send it. 'Sometime in the middle of the night, four or six in the morning. I have terrible sleeping.'
'Good, thank you. Can you sleep if someone is with you?'
'Yeah, it helps.' I'm unsure why he asked, I somehow doubt we're that far into knowing each other.
'At eleven, you go to bed and call me. I'll stay on the phone with you.'
I blush at the message, finding it sweet rather than creepy or odd. Others may think it's weird, a red flag, for strangers to do that but I'm comfortable with Lewis. He's been caring and respectful to me, wanting me to eat and get good sleep, being interested in my art; wanting to see the finished project. Most importantly, he didn't say or ask for anything problematic when I told him I was changing. Some men, and even women, would've asked for details on what clothes I'm wearing or inappropriate pictures.
Lewis doesn't seem like that and if he turns out to be that, was just gaining my trust, I'd be very disappointed and upset. Besides, his voice is amazing and I'm sure I could fall asleep to him speaking to me. Making a quick decision to agree to his suggestion, cause even if he's neglecting a question mark, it's still my choice whether I want that or not we have a phone call to help me sleep.
'You would seriously do that? I don't want to disturb you even if that sounds nice'
It amazes me how fast he replies to me as if he's waiting. 'Wouldn't have suggested it if I didn't mean it, Tommy Boy. If it helps you, I'll do happily do it. I like your cute voice anyway, no trouble.'
Smiling, I type out an agreement. 'Okay! I promise to call you at eleven!'
'Good. You're adorable. Your food ready?'
I'm blushing and smiling for the next few hours as I eat my food and work on my painting while texting Lewis, telling him about myself- excluding some of my past and my status as Submissive for now. We talk about all kinds of things, random thoughts, and dreams we have. Lewis tells me stories about him and Seán, his Irish friend I learned, working on different construction sites and him accidentally nearly killing Seán with various equipment.
Lewis makes me laugh and I get comfortable enough to ask questions without being prompted by him, also to send a picture of the work in progress painting. It earns me praises for how good it is and a smiling heart emoji. It's all genuine, at least it seems like it is, Lewis is too much of a sweetheart to be lying to me. His personality, granted through text, is amazing and I'm feeling a small crush start to form. I want to meet him again, in person, and see what he's actually like.
From his texts, he's a childish man; he's playful and loves joking around, yet I see a serious side and that he's extremely loyal to his friends. Lewis is also caring, he asks multiple times if I'm tired or if I'm getting hungry again, suggests I move around to stretch out my legs as I sit in one position for a while. I'm adoring the attention I'm getting, over the phone or not.
Finally, though, at eleven I call him. Only after closing my eyes and forcing myself to tap the call button - 'I didn't do it, I didn't do it, he called me. My anxiety is through the ceiling as it rings, hands lightly shaking, yet it barely gets to the third ring before he answers. "Halò, Tommy Boy"
His voice is deeper than I remember it being, the gravely hue to it rougher and his accent is relatively stronger than when he was in the shop. It all sends a pleasant shiver through me just as it did earlier, I have to silently breathe in a deep breath to calm myself as well as chant not to get aroused in my head.
"Hi.." Is all I can force myself to get out, talking through text and speaking on the phone is two different things, as much as I'm comfortable with him, I'm still anxious.
Lewis gives a low chuckle and I hear some shuffling in the background, "Don't go bein shy now, wee lad. I'll let ya slide since it's time for bed, ye are in bed?"
I nearly can't understand him, his accent twisting words around and blending them for me to catch. Luckily, my brain manages to translate it and I nod before remembering he can't see me. "Yeah, 'm in bed."
I am, tucked under my red comforter and turned on my side with my phone to my ear. My rainbow nightlight in the corner is on, I don't need it but I like the changing of the colors bouncing gently off the walls. I had turned off my main light and pulled the curtains over the window shut, to block out the sun when it rises.
"That's a good b- good. Now, got one question for ya. Well, more like two, but eh." Lewis cuts himself off before calling me a 'good boy' and I'm disappointed, but I understand. He doesn't want to freak me out in case I'm not a submissive, saying that to someone outside the community sometimes gets bad results.
Curious about what he wants to know, I ask, "yeah?"
I blink, honestly surprised. I mean he told me he wanted to meet again, but I figured after this whole night and seeing I'm weird and awkward he would have deleted my number. Now I'm excited because tomorrow is Thursday and I don't work Thursdays, Saturdays or Sundays. Those days Miss Parry and her husband work the shop, CeCe and I can come in if we want and get overtime pay, but most of the time we don't.
I'd like to meet Lewis too, maybe the topic of past relationships can come up and I can slip in I'm into BDSM, see how he reacts. Hopefully, it's a good reaction. He did just stop himself from praising me as a dominant would to their sub.
"Yea, I'm off work tomorrow, Saturday, and Sunday," I add the other days as an afterthought, thinking he should know when I'm free in case he can't do tomorrow.
"Wanna meet me somewhere, someplace your comfortable in?" He's not being pushy or demanding I meet up with him or acting as if I'm going to reject him then try to guilt-trip me into going. He's confident but will accept a no, and I like that.
"Sure, I'd love to. Do you have to work?" I just remember he's a responsible adult with a potentially dangerous job, I don't want to distract him or make him hurry.
Lewis laughs, "Naw, me and Bràthair got the last shift tomorrow. Won't be goin til close to five."
"Oh, okay. Um..do you know the park near the coffee shop I work at? I think it's close to the site your working on." I'm doubting myself as soon as I say it, a park? What am I, twelve?
It's the only public place I can think of besides the coffee shop or the mall. I don't want Miss Parry to interrupt or Lewis to think I want him to buy me anything, the park seems like a good neutral place for getting to know each other. Is that childish?
Lewis doesn't laugh or bully my suggestion, "sure, sure, I know it. Meet you there at, say, twelve?"
I should tell him, or warn him, about my tendency to be late. Shouldn't I? It's a good thing to do, that way he doesn't leave when I don't show up at twelve. "Yeah, uh...Lewis? I'm not good at being on time, if I'm not there, I will be! I promise! I'm late for everything."
He chuckles, "I'll wait for Ya, Tommy Boy. No rush."
In relief, a sigh escapes me. No one has ever waited on me, it's usually that they get upset at me and just leave. It takes stress off that Lewis said he would wait for me. "Okay...thank you.."
He just hums softly at me, a surprisingly soothing sound, "bedtime. Put me on speaker, and place the phone to the side."
Quickly, I follow the order and place the phone screen down on the pillow next to me with the speaker on. Cuddling with my blankets to my chin, "It's done.."
"Want me to do anything to help you sleep? Talk or tell you a story?"
Blushing at the suggestion, I hide my face for a second before answering. "Can..can you hum again?"
Lewis softly laughs, not rudely, but fondly. "Arite, m'eudail."
Then he starts humming a tune to a song I never heard before, must be a Scottish one or something he heard as a child. The sound is calming and soothing, it's a low yet soft volume that caresses me. It doesn't take very long for me to be sliding into sleep, the noise of Lewis guiding me.