The perfect first date

We matched on a dating app some time ago. The conversation flowed, back and forth. We shared some common interests. Months had passed before we were able to organise a meeting. My initial assumption was that it would be a platonic meeting. I asked for clarification, “So, this this going to be a date? Or are we two potential friends meeting up?” “I’ll see you Friday night for our first date” he replied. My first proper date since my breakup. I guess I was in denial. I’m a romanticist, a dreamer. I love nothing more than a sensual moment, a slow dance. A passionate kiss. The downside to being this way, a dreamer, is that often my expectations are sky-high and reality can often fail to live up to the dream. ‘Will this be another dream that does not come to fruition?’ I thought to myself as I, fittingly, gazed through the window during my daily commute.

I was in the city for a few days and had organised my first date with Jimmie whilst I was in town. Let me paint a picture for you. Tall, dark, handsome. Cliché I know. Long, curly surfer style hair. Gorgeous blue eyes, and a smile that coerces you to smile. I was still getting myself dressed, fiddling with my jeans tying a makeshift belt when my phone vibrated. “I’m out the front” the message read. ‘Shit’. Now I’m starting to feel nervous. I looked out the window and saw him standing in front of his car across the street. He looked up at me and smiled. I smiled, and waved back. I texted a reply ‘I’ll be right down’. I tied the string from one of my dresses around my waist, and stole one more glance into the mirror checking every from every angle before I ran out the door. I stepped out onto the street, nervously awaiting to embrace the beautiful man standing before me. ‘God I hope he’s a hugger’. A few cars pass and I shyly look up at Jimmie. He confidently smiles back at me. Finally, a break in the traffic and I run across the road into his arms. We embrace and he firmly plants a kiss on my cheek. I blush. God, he’s even more gorgeous in person. He opens the car door for me and I hop in. He gets in the driver’s seat and we both agree how nice it is that we were finally able to meet.

We chat the entire drive to the restaurant. Although to be fair, poor Jimmie hardly got a word in. I was nervously filling in every space. I order a glass of merlot, and Jimmie orders a beer. We exchange travel stories, and I laugh more than I have in the past year. The chemistry is undeniable. Usually when a date is going this well I’m quite overtly affectionate. Physical touch is my love language. Tonight, though I restrain from flirtatiously brushing his arm, playing with his fingers, and holding his hand. I keep my hands to myself, and my body language is unusually closed. Intimate encounters have been few and far between since leaving my ex and I’m not feeling comfortable initiating physical touch where normally I would. I enjoy his company regardless, and I know my hesitation is due to past trauma rather than a lack of interest. The food is phenomenal yet my tastebuds aren’t as receptive as usual. I am completely distracted by, and in awe of the man in front of me. We’re both in tears. He ordered the spicy wings, and evidently the man cannot handle his spice. My stomach hurts from laughing.

Jimmie suggests a walk to a dessert bar nearby. I’m no longer hungry, but I am craving more of his company so I happily agree. Jimmie reaches for my hand and I receive his warm hand in mine. We begin to walk closer and I’m feeling more comfortable in his company. We get dessert and sit on stools out the front of the shop. I think to myself what a great first date it had been. ‘I’m not sure if it could get any better’. The conversation flows effortlessly as it had all evening. We continue on to a bar. Prolonging saying goodbye as long as possible. Feeling fresh back in the dating scene I wasn’t sure that I wanted to go home with him tonight. Intimacy has been somewhat of lacking in my life. I’ve been all work, no play the last several months. I wasn’t sure I even remembered how to play.

It was a cool Melbourne night, which had me regretting my outfit choice. A breezy linen shirt. Surely you could see my nipples through my blouse at this point. Mid-way along our walk back to the car, under a streetlight Jimmie turned to me and kissed me. Instant fireworks. The chemistry was wild. I didn’t want to stop kissing him, and we didn’t stop for perhaps five minutes. A bike dinged as it sped past. I heard people chatting walking past. These noises seemed as if they were in the distance. Time stopped whilst our lips locked. It could have been thirty seconds, or thirty minutes. Every now and then we stopped to exchange a cheeky glance. Jimmie held me for some time without kissing and it felt like home.

Apricots by MAYA was pumping in the car on the drive back to my apartment. It was a serious moment. We were both singing at the top of our lungs, having a boogie. I had one of those ‘Is this real?!’ moments. This moment genuinely felt like out of a scene in a movie. I felt so immensely happy, and present. I wasn’t sure that a first date could get any better than this. Perhaps my daydreaming has somehow manifested the dream date. Perhaps my dream man.

The streets began to look familiar as I realised we were approaching my building. “Shall we take a walk on the beach? I have so much energy now after singing and dancing.” “I’d love to” Jimmie replied. Truthfully I didn’t want to say goodbye to this man. I did not want this moment to end. We walk along the beach, hand in hand exchanging stories encased in vulnerability, and stealing kisses every chance we got. Fairy lights were strung above us on the pier as we stared out into the great expanse of ocean before us. Cool wind tickled my bare midriff, as Jimmie, hands firmly placed where I felt the wind, whispered in my ear “I forgot to mention how absolutely stunning you look tonight”. I turn to face him; he gently tucks my hair behind my ear and lift my chin up to kiss me. I smile and wrap my arms around his waist, my head on his chest. He smells of cologne, but not the cheap nasty stuff they advertise to men to help them attract women. He smells of a hard-working guy with great taste. Obviously, right. I giggle to myself at the thought. “What’s so funny?” he asks. “Oh, it’s nothing” I murmur under my breath smiling. “You look cold” he whispers. He grabs his jacket and drapes it over my shoulders. “See, cold” Jimmie says with a cheeky grim as he delicately traces my nipple with his finger. “Indeed” I giggle. “Shall we move this to your apartment, I’d hate for you to be too cold”.

I grab Jimmie’s hand and run along the beach, over the sand dunes, across the wet grass and onto the footpath to my apartment. “How many merlots did you have babe?” “I’m running to keep warm” I reply, breathing heavily. We run like children after an ice cream truck all the way to my apartment. We burst through the door. I go to the bathroom to freshen up, and prepare myself for what is anticipated to follow. Both physically, and mentally. I take a few minutes. Gather my thoughts, take a few deep breaths. I hear faint music, unable to make it out until I open the bathroom door and see Jimmie slowly moving his hips to what sounds like the dirty dancing soundtrack. “I thought a slow, sensual dance was in order after all that running. Time to lower the heart rate perhaps?”. “I’m not sure that my heart rate will stay low for long, but I’m in”. I take Jimmie’s hand as we parade around the tiny room. His hands on my hips, mine on his shoulders. We move our hips in unison. The music permeating my soul. There is nothing I love more than a sensual boogie, how on earth did he know?! “Can I unbutton your shirt?” I ask. He nods and I very slowly undo one button at a time holding eye contact throughout. He looks photo shopped. This man is ripped. I run my hands over his corrugated abs. I let out a sigh, “Nice!” I exclaim. He returns the favour, gracefully unbuttoning my blouse, caressing my breasts as he has so longed to do all night. “They’ve been begging for my attention” he says as he cups one breast in each hand. “Perfection”. “I’m so pleased you think so” I say, still running my hands up and down his abdomen. We continue to slow dance topless. He spins me around, and even lifts me above his head. What a flex. Literally. Everything he does is with so much grace, and passion. It is extremely attractive.

After literal hours of slow dancing, kissing and sensual strip teasing he lifted me into his arms and lowers me onto the bed. Kissing from my toes, and working his way up my body until he reaches in between my legs. He kisses me as passionately here as he kissed the lips on my face until I let out a deeply held moan signalling total ecstasy. What bliss, what pleasure. This man is a sensual lover. What began in my mind as a catch up with a potential new friend, progressed into a 12-hour date that I will never forget. A date so juicy that it not only surpassed my expectations, but also any date I could dream up in my mind. A date I will never forget, and one that I surely hope will be continued, and added to in the near future.