I met a very adorable guy at a local movie premiere event. He caught my eye because he was so good looking that he could have been a male model. There was an “air” of shyness about him and through the after party event I kept close enough by him to pick up small tidbits of his conversations and even engage in a few as well.
Our eyes kept meeting, possibly because he knew I kept looking at him. I found out he was only 20 years and an aspiring actor, also with some model experience. It was very easy to see him doing modeling. He had deep blue eyes, finely chiseled features, and he was tall…. probably over 6 feet. I decided I wanted to make it easy for him. I approached him with “my goodness do you know I’ve been staring at you because you remind me a little of James Dean”! The perfect compliment and it seemed to embarrass him or make him slightly awkward. Of course it opened up conversation with him.
It turned out he WAS very shy, sweet and dare I say innocent? There was a very gentle flirtation and he didn’t seem any close friends with him. I immediately imagined corrupting him, his age verses mine hopefully meant I was able to do it.
I was so fucking flirtatious but damnit… he didn’t make a move. I enjoy the game of flirtation.. the play, the hair flipping, tilting my head. Hooking up is a little like a chess game, you watch your opponents moves, you try to guess their next. I used all the moves that haven’t failed me in the past.
Eventually he said he was going to leave, and he offered me a ride. I took him up on it and still he was a gentleman. He asked me for my phone number, which he got and we proceeded to have a few flirty phone calls of only talk before he finally asked me out on a date. There were 3 very pleasant dates and the only move he made on me was a kiss goodnight without tongue. He innocently held my hand, opened car doors, and behaved with complete manners. I was starting to worry.
Was he gay? Was he not attracted to me? Since I was nearly a decade older then he, was it my age? My logical side told me it was the shyness, that even maybe he was very experienced in “dating”. I wasn’t sure that possible; did I find the last American virgin or something?
On the forth date he rented a car and driver so I could show him the city. I think I forgot to mention he was visiting for his work. He seemed a little more relaxed on this day. He’d be leaving soon to go back to his home which was about 5 hours away from where I live. I showed him sights and we talked and laughed. Finally later we were taken back to where our vehicles were to close out the date. He kissed me a little more intensely this time, finally opening his mouth. It was a long deep and very passionate kiss, the kind that sends little waves of pleasure straight down to your crotch. When the kiss ended he hugged me tight and whispered in my ear “I want to lick every inch of you”.
Hmm it felt good against my ear, one of my many erogenous zones. I liked the idea of seeing his innocent blue eyes peeking up at me from between my legs while he did some of that licking. But dear readers…. I told him it was late and that I really didn’t have time. I was soooo sweet when I said it all breathy and anxious. But I knew the key with Mr. Shy guy was to make him wait. I told him I wanted to take him up on the offer, but it was going to have to be another time. Of course he reminded me he was leaving the next day. Awww. As bad as I wanted him, I wanted him to want me more. I suggested we consider the following weekend, meeting up half way and keeping in contact by phone. He agreed.
He had a hardon, I felt it during the hug. He got the guts up to say something, to make a little move. But the greatest aphrodisiac is denial and I know it. I couldn’t corrupt him if I wasn’t in power and in control. There is much more to this story and it shall continue.
There is something about this innocence, the beginning of a potential sex partner that is hot beyond belief. The waiting always makes it better. When I got home that night I masturbated thinking about the whole day/evening.
