George and Anya's First Date

I know this guy named George. I swear he has to be the luckiest guy I know. Let me tell you a little bit about him. He's pretty average, about 5 '7", dirty blonde hair, blue eyes, a few extra pounds that don't show much unless you happened to see him with his shirt off. We're not related (George is my last name, and it's his first name.) I don't know what he's packing in those jeans he likes to wear, but I swear that thing has a good luck charm on it. Let me give you an example...

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(This is the second story involving George and Anya. The first is The Commuter Train Incident and introduces both George and Anya.)

It was another train ride for George and Anya, the end of a busy day and a busy work week. Both were relieved to be done with the week, relating their stories to each other and keeping up the facade of innocent seatmates. A week and a half had passed since that first encounter, and while George was very interested in seeing what was to come, Anya had made it clear that she was running the game and so he waited patiently. Okay, maybe not quite that patiently because he'd rubbed one out thinking about their session in the back seat of his truck nearly every night since then. Their ride was about halfway through when Anya slipped her phone into his hand, unlocked and bearing a simple message: "Dinner tonight?"

"Sure," he typed back, "when and where?"

"I'll get off one stop early and meet you at the restaurant up on the hill across from the outlet mall. You go get your truck and I'll wait for you in the bar."

"Okay, I'll see you there." He handed the phone back to her and kept up his part of the conversation about his workday, her workday, and the trials and tribulations that they had dealt with. By this time they both recognized the names of each other's co-workers and had a reasonable idea of what each other did for work, so the narratives might have seemed confusing to an outsider, but to them it was easy to follow. The ride passed with very few incidents (a minor miracle for that line on a Friday afternoon commute) and soon enough it was time for Anya to make her exit.

"See you on Monday!" she said to him as she walked down the aisle to the door. George forced himself not to stare after her as she walked away. 10 minutes later he got off of the train at the end of the line and drove back to the restaurant. Parking in that lot was always a challenge because it was designed for cars that would fit in the bed of his truck, but he managed to find a spot where he could pull through and effectively take up two spots nearly entirely and without having to jockey the truck around to get in or out. This was certainly a good omen as far as he was concerned, and he strode into the restaurant with a smile on his face. At the hostess' station he told the young lady that he was meeting someone in the bar and she waved him on through. There were already a few people waiting for tables, so this probably meant that they would eat in the bar, but that was fine with him. George disliked taking up a booth or table by himself, so the bar seats were very familiar to him. Anya caught his eye from across the room and waited for him to arrive and take the stool on her far side. The bartender glanced over at them and Anya nodded at her.

"So here we are." George said to Anya.

"Here we are. I think this is a good way to end a tough week, don't you?" she smiled at him. Right about then the bartender sat down a glass of red wine in front of Anya, and a pint of amber-colored beer in front of George. Anya nodded her thanks, picked up her glass, and lifted it for a toast. "To the end of the week!"

"To the end of the week!" George echoed her and clinked his glass to hers and both took a sizable drink. His favorite south of the border import always went down well and he was impressed that she remembered his preference from a conversation months ago. "You remembered! Thank you very much!"

"You're very welcome. Do you know what I'm drinking?"

"If this place has it, your favorite red, which is..." he thought for a second and then came up with the brand and variety.

"Good," she smiled at him. "Do you mind if we eat here at the bar?"

"I don't mind a bit, but if you're looking to stay out of sight, the table in the corner just opened up." he motioned back over his shoulder with his head. She turned her eyes to follow. The little pub height table was small enough that it barely fit the two plates that were left on it by the former occupants, and there was another table between it and the nearest window. The lighting wasn't all that great in that corner, looking like it was just barely enough to see a menu without using the flashlight on your phone.

"I was hoping that we'd get that one but it was full when I got here so I settled for the bar. Let's go grab it before someone else tries to get it," she grabbed her glass and started walking that way. George quickly grabbed his and followed her. By the time they had slipped into the tall chairs a bus person was there to clear the plates, followed very closely by a young lady with menus. "Can we transfer my bar tab, please?" Anya asked.

"Of course!" said the young lady and headed for the bar. George was hungry, and not just for food, but it would do to start the night.

"Light or heavy?" George asked Anya.

"As long as it doesn't slow you down, eat whatever you want. I'm having the filet." Anya told him over another sip of wine. She hadn't even looked at the menu.

"I was thinking about the ribeye, but that's a lot of meat. Maybe the strip would be better." George pondered aloud as Anya sipped her wine. He sat silent for a minute, then looked up at her and asked, "May I order for you?" She raised her eyebrows at him for a moment, then nodded her assent. He put the menu down, took a drink of his beer, and waited patiently for the attention of the waitstaff. Soon enough a young gentleman arrived.

"Hi! I'm Tyler and I'll be taking care of you tonight. I see we have a bar tab going. What can I get you to go along with that?"

"The lady will have the filet, medium rare, with rice pilaf and the vegetable medley. I'll have the strip steak, medium, mashed potatoes, no gravy, and the vegetable medley."

"Would you like a salad with either of those?"

"No, thank you."

"Alrighty then, those should be out in about 10 minutes. Refill on those drinks?"

"The wine for the lady, yes, please. I'll switch to water after this beer is done, thank you."

"Certainly. Lemon with that?"

"No, thank you. Just regular ice water is fine, thank you."

"You're welcome," and with that and a smile, Tyler departed for another table. George turned to look at Anya over his beer as he took another drink. She looked back at him and waited until he had set the glass down and swallowed his beer.

"Who trained you?" she asked.

"'Trained' me?"

"Yes. Who trained you? You say you've never been married, and that you've only had two relationships of any length, so who trained you?"

"In being a gentleman, you mean?"

"Yes."

"My mother taught me to be a gentleman when I was very young. I opened doors and held them for her, handled chairs for her, and in general did what she taught me to do and not to do. The rest, like ordering for the lady, but only with her permission, I've learned through the years by studying old British movies and watching interviews with butlers. Listening and remembering are key to my work, so that part was easy. Now, please forgive my asking, but did I make an acceptable order for you?"

"Yes, very! It's like you were in my head, listening to my thoughts."

"We've talked about so many things these last few months that I felt that I could pull it off."

"You did, and quite well." she smiled at him and then caressed his leg with hers. "Now, we have a few things to talk about before dinner gets here, and we'll have to be very careful in what we say. Do you understand what I mean?"

"That smile of yours continues to melt me. Yes, I think I understand."

"Good. I'll start then. I'm a 'sports model'."

"I see. By choice?"

"No. When things try to kill you from the inside, you have to take them out."

"Yes, that's usually best. May I ask how long?"

"Twelve years this summer."

"Well, that's quite good, and I'm thankful that you're here," he raised his glass to her, and she met his toast with a clink and they both took a sip before he continued, "I'm original equipment, just the one cut."

"I was actually nervous that you might not be altered. It doesn't attract me."

"I've never had any complaints about the equipment and I keep it clean."

"As do I." She paused here for a moment. "Are you Greek?"

"Sometimes I admit it, other times not."

"I agree completely." She paused again. George took this as room for him to ask a question in the same vein.

"How's your appetite?"

"Generally pretty good. Like most people, it's not as good when I'm sick. You?"

"Pretty much the same. When I'm particularly tired I tend to want to sleep more and eat less." George paused here to let her ask another question. Anya took another sip of her wine and looked thoughtful for a minute.

"So, you enjoy eating?" she finally asked, ending the question with a pass of her tongue along her lips.

"I live to eat." he replied and made the same motion. "The question is, do you bite off more than you can chew, or are you able to swallow everything that goes into your mouth?"

"Usually, as long as I like the taste. Do you mind sharing?"

"Just between us, or with others at the table?" he asked.

"Just between us."

"If it works for you, it works for me. Sharing with others at the table takes more negotiations."

"Yes, I agree. Have you ever?" She looked ready to be surprised.

"No, but only for lack of opportunity."

"I have, once, but things went south pretty quickly. That problem is gone, though."

"Interesting. You'll have to tell me about it sometime." He looked over at Tyler, who was walking their way with two plates of food. "Here's our dinner."

"Oh good, I'm hungry!" she grinned at him and caressed his leg with hers again.

"I have the filet for the lady, medium rare..." Tyler said as he placed the plate in front of Anya, "... and the strip for the gentleman, medium." he said as he placed the plate in front of George. "Can I get you anything else?"

"The drinks?" George asked. Tyler looked quickly over his shoulder at the bar.

"Looks like those just came up. I'll be right back." he said and then stepped over to the bar, returning a moment later with their drinks. "I'll check back with you in a couple of minutes to see how everything is." he smiled at them as he departed. When he returned, both George and Anya were deep into their dinners and nodded their assent that everything was as it should be. With thoughts of things to come after dinner, neither really lingered over the meal. Tyler dropped off their check after asking about dessert, which both declined.

"May I?" George nodded at the check.

"I'll give you cash for the drinks." Anya said as she reached for her purse.

"Only if you insist."

"I do." she said and produced a sufficient amount of cash to cover the bar tab plus a nice tip for the bartender. As she handed it to him, her fingers lingered on his. "Shall we go have dessert?"

"Just as soon as I pay the bill on the app." he replied, focusing on his phone for a minute. That done, George waited until Tyler caught his eye, then nodded at him and held up the phone. Tyler nodded and smiled, mouthed a "Thank You" to him, and then headed off to another table. George turned back to Anya, said "Shall we?" and moved to help her with her chair. She let him help her and took advantage of the close proximity to deliver a quiet message to him.

"Mind your manners in public with a strange lady, young man."

"Yes, ma'am." he replied just as quietly.

"I'll meet you at your truck after I powder my nose."

"I need to adjust my tie. The truck is at the back of the lot near the freeway, on the side closest to the other stores. I won't make you wait." Just before the hostess station they both turned for the restrooms and departed into their respective facilities. For George, this meant going in and dealing with trying to pee without getting it all over himself because his dick was rock hard and this meant that it was pointing nearly straight up. It took a bit longer than usual, but he managed it. He emerged to catch sight of Anya going out the door and turning towards his truck. George carefully kept what he hoped was an appropriate distance behind her and as he got close enough to the truck he reached into his pocket and activated the remote start. The truck came to life just as Anya walked up to it, and as she reached for the door it unlocked. This made him grin a bit, and then even more when she opened the door and realized that he was not inside. He arrived just in time to help her inside, again taking the opportunity to feel her ass under her dress as she climbed in. This time there were lace panties, which he considered a treat. "Oooo... those are nice," he smiled at her as he closed the door and walked around to his side.

"I thought that I'd leave you something to enjoy taking off," she smiled at him from the seat when he climbed in and got behind the wheel.

"I do like a formal unveiling," he grinned as the truck began to move. "Where to?" he asked.

"The parking garage would be fine with me," she said, a bit of sultriness coming into her voice.

"Hmm... it's a Friday night and it's a bit busy with the nice weather. It may not be as quiet as we'd like there."

"Do you have someplace else in mind?"

"I know of a little spot down by the lake that you can only get to from the freeway onramp. It's more secluded, but there is the chance of others coming down there to use the rope swing. There's parking both before and after it. If we go to the far one, and park at the farthest end of it, it should send a message to any others that come along."

"Speaking from experience?"

"Days gone by, yes. It was a popular spot when I was a young man, but it has somewhat fallen out of favor."

"We can try it, but I hope it doesn't take too long to get there."

"Under 10 minutes." he said and gunned the truck out of the stop light. Seven minutes later they were backed into the farthest part in the farthest parking area. The place was deserted, which suited them just fine. The sun was just dropping down behind the trees in the front window as they climbed into the back seat. Needing no more pleasantries, Anya reached up to touch George's face as she looked him in the eye. He looked back at her for a moment and then closed the distance and began gently kissing her. He found her lips soft, warm, and willing. While they were both definitely "in the mood" he wanted to take a bit more time than last time. Anya let him have that time, not pushing the buildup of tension. That would come soon enough.

Gentle kisses soon turned to more passionate kisses, and soon tongues were involved. Hands began moving around bodies. Anya began running her fingers through his hair, while George began caressing her back and shoulders, slowly pulling her closer to him. When the angle of their necks began to go from straight to backwards, Anya broke the kiss and leaned in to kiss his neck beneath his left ear.

"You're pressing the right buttons... How many more can you find?" she said between kisses. George responded by taking her left earlobe into his lips, giving a little tug, and then releasing it and kissing more aggressively below and behind her ear as he moved towards the back of her neck. His right hand also moved around to her chest and began exploring her left breast through the dress and underlying bra. It felt lacy, too, and he couldn't resist asking.

"Mmm... this feels lacy. Do I get to unveil these as well?"

"Keep pushing the right buttons and you'll find out," she said from her place beneath his ear. It was hard for him to resist going into full on "otcopus-mode" but he managed it. Instead he gave the now stiffening nipple under the dress a quick tweak and then moved his hand down to the small of her back. Anya responded by sliding a hand under his shirt and into his chest hair. "Mmm..." she cooed as she began to move her face back to his, "hairy chests are a good thing."

"I think so," he said and started to kiss her again, this time going directly for the tongue action. Here Anya took action and shifted herself onto his lap, straddling him. This done, she began to undo the buttons of his Hawaiian shirt (a trademark of his during the summer months) and he began to undo the buttons on the front of her dress, all the while their tongues remained entangled. As he undid the second button of her dress, Anya broke the kiss and stopped him.

"The dress can be unbuttoned, and you can take it off of my shoulders, but it stays on me after that. Understand?"

"Yep. What about the bra?"

"It snaps in the front, and it stays on my shoulders after it gets opened. Got it?"

"Yep, got it."

"I'll keep your shirt on you after I unbutton it."

"Okay."

"Your answers are getting shorter. Having problems thinking?"

"Not enough blood in the big head."

"I can feel that it's all in the little one," she said and ground her hips on him briefly. Finishing the buttons on his shirt before he finished the ones on her dress, Anya opened it and began running her fingers through his chest hair, tweaking his nipples every time she crossed them. "Damn, if I'd have known this was here we'd have taken more time last time."

"We were a little more focused on you," George said as he finished unbuttoning her dress down to just above her navel. A lacy white bra came into view, and it revealed just about as much of her firm B-cups as it hid. "Oh... this is very nice!" he smiled up at her. She kissed him again and let him feel her up around the bra for a few minutes before she broke the kiss again.

"Do you want to see what's under it?" she asked with a quick glance down at her chest.

"Yes, but I also want to Taste what's under it," he said as he moved to undo the clasp. It turned out to be just a couple of sturdy fabric loops over what looked like pearls between her breasts. Those unhooked, he slowly opened the bra and let her boobs slide free from their confinement. Dark, pointy nipples surrounded by dark areolas greeted him, pointing straight at him with no hints of sag. With no further words or ado, George latched himself onto the right one, flicking and twirling the nipple with his tongue as he gradually pulled more and more of the breast into his mouth.

"Oh God I'll give you all year to stop that!" Anya groaned. George kept at it for a minute or so before he switched to the other one and repeated the process. This elicited a similar proclamation from her. Happy that he was apparently pressing all of the right buttons, he let the left nipple go and looked up at her.

"I'm hungry."

"Manners, George, Manners. Ladies first!" she cooed back and proceeded to dismount him and get between his legs. Once there, she quickly undid his pants and pulled them down with his underwear far enough to get at what she wanted: his now raging hard cock. With a practiced and swift move she took him nearly all the way down and began rapidly fucking him with her mouth. George was instantly in heaven and began groaning as encouragement. With her tongue firmly pressed against the soft side of his dick, Anya was very plainly angling for a quick mouthful of cum. He wasn't quite that far along, but her technique and enthusiasm closed that gap in short order. As he felt the run up to the end start, George let her know what was coming.

"I hope you're hungry, because your mouth is about to be filled." She responded by gently fondling his balls and kept up her pace on his cock. A few seconds later she could feel them start to draw up tight and knew that his load was not far behind. Sure enough, George warned her that it was coming and suddenly it was there, exploding into her mouth like a firehose. Four strong jets flooded into her, followed by a couple of less intense spurts before he groaned again and sank down onto the seat. Swallowing the last of it before she broke contact, Anya got up and on top of him again.

"My turn to cum," she said with a greedy grin as she lifted her dress up to reveal the lace panties to him. This cleared the post-orgasmic fog from his brain quickly. The bright white panties were more lace than any other substance, and even that was pretty widely spaced. Her dark muff showed through readily, just above the soaked threads that covered her outer lips. George reached up and pulled her towards him by her ass cheeks, burying his face in her crotch as quickly as he could. The aroma was fresh, clean, and slightly musky. She tasted much the same, with the slightly oily consistency that some highly aroused women have to their secretions. When he realized that he was starting to actively suck those juices out of the lace, he pulled back and looked up at her.

"These are beautiful, but I want what's underneath." Without a word she shifted to one side, pulled them down with his help, and slid them free. George belatedly realized that somewhere along the way she had taken off her shoes and he hadn't had time to notice, but then her pussy was back in his face and that consumed his thoughts. He scooted down a bit, and she scooted up a bit, and from then on she proceeded to fuck his face while he tongued her clit and vagina for all that he was worth. If she slowed down, he sucked her clit into his mouth and flicked it with his tongue. If she sped up he pushed his tongue out and let her grind on it like it was his leg. If she stopped moving he reached up and fucked her with his tongue. All the while she mewled, moaned, and spat out Tourettes-esque phrases like "Oh fuck yes!" and "Oh Fuck!" and "God Damn! Fuck Yes!" After a couple of the latter, she reached down and grabbed his head, fucking his face with a sudden fervor that George quickly remembered meant that she was about to cum. Seconds later she gave one final thrust and began shaking in place while he sucked her clit like it was a straw and he wanted the last liquid from the bottom of a glass.

"Oh God! Enough! Enough!" she said as she stopped shaking and pulled away from him. Even in the semi-darkness of the cab of the truck he could see a look of pure bliss settle over her face as she laid her legs across his lap after he sat up. The lower half of his face was covered in her juices, some of which had managed to run down his chin and onto his neck, but he didn't care. She was content, he was content, and for those few minutes, all the world was right. A few moments later, headlights swinging into view down the road interrupted their reverie.

"Company's coming" he sighed and began to reach for the towel that he kept in the pouch behind his seat.

"Figures." she sighed and began to reassemble her upper half of clothing.

"Stay back here, I'll drive us out." George said and reached for the door by her feet. On his way out he paused briefly to kiss one of them, then out and around the truck he went. Anya lay on the back seat as he fired up the truck and drove out past a truck full of college kids heading for the rope swing. Once on the freeway and stable in his lane, he invited Anya to crawl up front with him. Her shoes came first, landing in the footwell, and then she crawled into the seat and buckled in. George sat with his right arm resting on the center console, and after slipping her shoes back on, Anya held his hand. "I'll turn around at the next exit and head back to your station," he said to her.

"Can we just drive like this for a few minutes, please?"

"Absolutely."

"I need a few minutes to sit and think, if that's alright with you."

"Sure, but if it's all the same to you, I'd rather turn around and head out of the city instead of into it. It's just nicer driving."

"That's fine," she said and then lapsed into silence. George navigated the truck through the interchange, taking his hand back when needed but always returning it to hold hers when he was done. As the hills began to dominate the view up ahead and the lights of houses began to thin out, she took her hand back and began to nervously fidget. To George, this was a sign that she might be considering ending what they had going on. It concerned him, because he liked her, but he said nothing. Finally, she started talking.

"I want more time with you, George, and that scares the hell out of me."

"Okay..."

"Do you understand why?"

"Why you want more time with me, or why it scares you, or both?"

"A little of both, but mostly the latter."

"I would hope that you want more time with me for the same reasons that I want more time with you: we talk well together, aren't far enough apart in age to raise eyebrows, and share some common interests. It doesn't hurt that the sex so far has been pretty good. Also, I think that we're both a little tired of being lonely, both in and out of the bedroom. Am I right so far?"

"If the sex that we've had is 'pretty good' for you then I may be in for some wild times, because you've been subjected to two of my fantasies and have blown my mind each time! But yes, you are right so far. Now, what about the other?"

"I'm guessing that you're scared because this is the first time that you've felt this way since your divorce, and that was what... five years ago?"

"Six this fall, and you're right."

"So yeah, I understand. Well, at least as much as someone who has never been married can understand."

"Yeah, it's different than just losing a boyfriend or girlfriend. You think that you've found the one that you want to spend the rest of your life with and go through the hassle of getting married and changing your name in so many places. You've no idea what a pain changing your name is. I spent 10 years of my life with that man, doing everything that I could to keep the marriage alive and thriving. Finding out that he was fucking literally everything with a pussy that would agree to drop trou for him was a massive blow. You've no idea how much that hurt."

"No, I don't, but I can see how much it still hurts you."

"I'm sorry. I try to keep it under wraps, under control, but for whatever reason I trust you, trust that you won't hurt me intentionally. So I let my guard down a little. What I found both thrills me and scares me." She took his hand again and squeezed it.

"Well, now you've gone and made me feel special. I've never had anyone tell me that I thrill them."

"Can we talk about you for a minute?"

"Sure. I have no secrets from you. Ask whatever you want and I'll answer it truthfully, but remember that sometimes you might not really want the answer to the question that you ask."

"Fair point. You say that you've been in two long-term relationships in your life. Tell me about the last one."

"Her name was Denise, and I worked with her. We slept together after the holiday party one year and spent the next two years being pretty happy. I was 12 years older than her, but to me physical age doesn't matter as much as maturity, and she was mature enough for me. It ended when her mom passed away unexpectedly and she had to move down south to help take care of her dad and younger siblings. She wanted me to come, begged me to. I couldn't for a variety of reasons. It hurt both of us, but she understood. We kept in touch for a few years, but during the pandemic we lost contact and that was the last I heard from her."

"You were in a relationship with a coworker?!? Jesus! I thought I was crazy!"

"Yeah, it was also a lot of stress because of that."

"I can only imagine," Anya said and then fell silent for a couple of minutes. "You can turn around and head for the train station if you want. I think I'm ready," she finally said. George quietly maneuvered the truck through the next interchange and back onto the freeway towards their train stations. They had covered a surprising distance while talking, and while he felt a little better knowing what was going on in her head, it still felt like things were not quite settled yet.

"So... where do we go from here?"

"Give me your phone," she held out her hand. He took it out of his shirt pocket and handed it to her and told her the pattern to unlock it. She quickly went to his contacts and added herself, then sent a text to her phone and added him to her contacts. This done, she handed his phone back to him.

"Wow. Okay... I didn't expect that! Now what?"

"Now you drive your new girlfriend to her car and give her a goodbye kiss and a promise to call her in the morning."

"I like that," he said with a big smile. This time it was his turn to melt her with a smile.

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See what I mean? Talk about luck! Next time I'll tell you about another one of his adventures.