“Great.” She rose in one fluid motion and smoothed down her dress. Carl opened the door and escorted her out. For the second time since he’d met her, he wished he had a nicer car to drive. At least it was clean—he’d seen to that. He opened the door and helped DeeDee in. He walked around to the driver’s side, taking a moment to press one hand hard against his cock. Later! They headed downtown.
“Where are you taking me?”
How about a motel with a vibrating bed? “Café Biscotti. Have you ever eaten there?”
“Just once. I really liked it.”
“Good.”
They arrived in fifteen minutes and Carl parked in the lot behind the restaurant. They entered and Carl gave the maitre-d’ his name.
“Oh, yes, Mr. Harman. Right this way, please.”
They were escorted to a small table near the back, next to a fake ficus tree. The lighting was fashionably dim. They took their menus and studied them while Carl tried to think of something witty to say. He didn’t want to come across as a sexist pig or a doofus.
“So, tell me about yourself.” He smiled, hoping to disguise his nervousness.
“Not much to tell, really. Grew up in Texas, moved here to go to college—UCSB. Been here ever since.”
“That’s a long ways to go for college. What made you decide to come to California?”
“Oh, I suppose it was the freedom of really being on your own. Or maybe the ocean. I just had to get away.”
Carl nodded. “I know that feeling.” He found himself wondering again about DeeDee’s clothing habits. “I’ll bet you fit in well here.”
“How do you mean?”
“Well, you know, Santa Barbara girls are probably freer about what they wear than in conservative Texas, aren’t they?”
Her confused look flashed into understanding. “Oh, you mean…”
“Yeah.”
She smiled. “You sure are interested in that.”
“I can’t help it. I think it’s part of the male code of conduct. When confronted by a woman who doesn’t wear underwear, find out as much as you can.” He shrugged and dipped his head. “Maybe it’s the writer in me.”
“The writer?”
“Yeah. It makes me very curious, all the time. About everything.”
“Those are pretty naughty thoughts, mister. I hope you’re not planning to write about me.” She said it teasingly, and Carl suspected she rather liked the idea.
He sipped his water, thinking. He would love to do a lot more than that. He felt his cock twitch again. “Only if you have a story to tell. Just about everyone has one. Tell me yours.”
She shook her head. “Uh huh. I barely know you.”
He tipped his head. “That’s true. But now I know you have a story. Eventually, you’ll have to tell me.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yes. You will succumb to my charms.” He said it in a self-deprecating way, even though he meant it. He shifted in his seat to give his cock more room.
The waiter came, and the moment was lost. They ordered dinner and chatted about ordinary things, as each tried to get to know the other better. But Carl could feel the undercurrent of sexual tension heavy in the air, like a gardenia on a warm spring evening. He wanted to know all of DeeDee’s secrets. He also knew better than to push.
After dinner, they took a walk down to the beach where they both took off their shoes and let their toes dig into the sand. DeeDee teased him by twirling around. Her dress, buttoned down front as it was, didn’t fly up, but it certainly did in his imagination.
He turned sideways and pulled on his pants, trying to keep from being pinched. Jeez, he thought, this girl’s gonna kill me. Death by blue balls.
DeeDee apparently had spotted his actions, for she giggled and put one hand to her mouth in mock horror. “Am I making you uncomfortable?” she teased.
“Yeah, you could say that. But in a nice way.”
“Is this all from my strange little habit?”
He nodded. Then he looked down at the bulging front of his pants and said, “Down, Simba!”
DeeDee collapsed into giggles.
*****
DeeDee’s attraction to Carl only grew the more she was with him. Their dinner had caused that familiar flutter in her stomach, just like she had felt with Stephen. She’d also felt it a little with Frank at first, so that was not the best indicator. Still, she found herself curious about Carl and what kind of man he really was, inside.
She’d already seen him under pressure and admired his control. Now she saw the playful side of him as they stood on the beach. He was not afraid of acting silly, yet he exuded a quiet strength.
She suddenly felt the urge to let him into her life more, just to see where this relationship might go. Was that too risky? She didn’t care. After Frank, Carl had to be a step up.
She sat down suddenly, feeling the still-warm sand against the thin material of her dress. DeeDee kept her legs primly together and didn’t object when Carl joined her and put his arm around her.
“Nice night,” she said, for lack of anything else to say.
“Sure is.” He squeezed her close. For a moment, DeeDee felt like she was back in the arms of Stephen. Carl exhibited the same kindness, the same strengths.
She turned her head away, surprised by the sudden onslaught of emotions.
“What’s wrong?”
Of course he would notice—he was so wonderfully sensitive. “Oh, nothing. Just an old memory flashed up.” She shook herself. “I’ll be okay.”
Carl put a finger along her chin and turned her toward him. She knew he could see the shiny wetness in her eyes.
“You’re crying.” He paused. “You must’ve really loved him.”
Gawd! His accurate guess floored her. She felt a tear run down her cheek. She couldn’t speak, she could only nod. For a moment, she wasn’t sure if she was crying over Stephen or her father, both lost too young.
“What was his name?”
“S-Stephen.” She didn’t feel comfortable yet talking about her father.
“What happened to him?”
“He-he died. Last year.”
Carl nodded, pursing his lips. He looked out at the ocean for a moment. Then he turned back. “I know it’s painful, so I won’t press you, but whenever you’d like to talk about him, I’d like to hear.”
“Why? Most men don’t want to hear about old lovers.”
“I suspect this Stephen was different. You still hurt. Maybe by talking about it, I can help you ease the pain.”
DeeDee shook her head. How could she share the secret life she’d had with Stephen? Or should I say Master Stephen.
She wanted to tell him. She longed to find a strong man who could understand the strange life she had led until so very recently. But few men could fathom it. Or they just took advantage of her submissive nature, like Frank.
“Come on, I’ll take you home.” Carl stood.
She looked up, disappointed that he hadn’t pressed her. Then she gave him a shy smile as he helped her to her feet.
Chapter Four
Carl’s mind worked overtime as he drove DeeDee home. There was something big she was keeping to herself. Probably because she had only just met him. She didn’t trust him yet. No surprise. But he had to admit, he was very curious. Something about her relationship with this Stephen guy. He’d have to just wait and see if she would open up about it.
He pulled up outside her apartment complex, got out and opened her door. She seemed surprised at the courtesy. He held her hand as they walked to her door.
She unlocked it, before turning expectantly. Carl leaned in and kissed her gently on the lips. They were round and soft and delicious. He reached up and cupped her jaw, then kissed her again. He felt her press back against the doorjamb, abandoning herself in the kiss.
They broke apart and gazed into each other’s eyes. “I had a great time with you tonight, DeeDee,” he breathed. “I find you…fascinating.”
She smiled. “That’s just first-date lust talking,” she teased.