The Perfect Date

In the movie, "Miss Congeniality," Miss Rhode Island is asked to describe her "idea of a perfect date." She infamously responds: "April 25th — because it's not too hot, not too cold. All you need is a light jacket!"

I was going to St. Louis the weekend of April 25th to present a teacher in-service workshop. When I signed the contract over a year ago, I had not thought about the possibility of there being a drawback to the "perfect date." Indeed, the weather was perfect. It was the first beautiful weekend St. Louis had experienced all spring. The drawback -- teachers don't like to give up a free Saturday of gorgeous weather to attend a training workshop. It's the first chance to get outside, plant the garden, take the kids to the park, grill out.

I stepped off the morning flight wearing a professional-looking pencil skirt and blouse. Underneath, I wore a new pink lace bra and matching panties because I like to feel put together -- gives me confidence. I also wore 3-inch heels to show off my shapely legs. I was expecting to be met by someone named Marge who would drive me to my hotel and give me information about tonight's dinner with some of the teachers.

But Marge wasn't there. I waited almost an hour with a pleasant expression on my face, giving friendly looks toward anyone who might be Marge. Finally, a harried-looking woman rushed in, looking all around. I said, "Are you Marge?" She answered, "No, I'm not. But are you Jenny?" I was confused until she told me that Marge had a cold. Her name was Leslie.

Leslie explained that she had to pick me up during her lunch period and just barely had time to drop me off where I'd be staying before needing to be back at her school. I'm an outgoing person by nature, so I asked her, conversationally, "Have you taught at this school long?" "Not really," she said. "Just a couple of years. I got divorced and had to go back to teaching to make ends meet. I have two kids."

"Oh, sorry to hear your marriage didn't work out," I sympathized. "It's always disappointing, especially when you have to work things out with the kids."

"Well actually," she said, "things have turned out great for me. I met someone new. We're planning on moving in together at the end of the school year. In fact, you'll meet him. His name is Ethan. He's building the house we're going to live in. It's so great! He's really good at what he does, and the house is going to be beautiful. Well, you'll see it soon."

I was trying to figure out how Ethan and the unfinished house involved me, but I was in my professional mode -- cool, calm, willing to go with the flow.

Leslie continued, "You see, um, registration for your workshop turned out to be lower than we anticipated. Everyone seems to have last-minute plans this weekend. And, well... actually, because we won't be bringing in much money from your presentation, our association can't afford to put you up in a hotel. We'll still pay your fee, of course, but we were going to have you stay with Marge -- she has such a gorgeous home! But, as you already know, she has a cold. My kids were supposed to be with my ex this weekend, but he left us hanging, so I've got them. And there isn't room in my apartment for you, too. So, we thought you could stay in my new house. The upstairs isn't finished -- as I said, Ethan is still working on it. But the master bedroom and bath are downstairs, and they're finished, so I think you'll be comfortable there."

I stared at her. "Wait. You mean I'll be staying in your unfinished house by myself? You won't be there?"

"Not to worry," she said. "Ethan will be there. He kind of camps out in one of the bedrooms upstairs where he's working. You probably won't see him much, but he'll look after you if you need anything. I texted him so he knows you're coming."

Leslie dumped me at the house rather abruptly, handing me the key. Said she had to get back to school. "See you tomorrow, then," I called as she was leaving. "Oh, uh, well, I won't be coming to your workshop because I have the kids, you know. So -- good luck with everything. And nice meeting you..." She drove off.

I just shook my head, laughing to myself. I couldn't believe this! I try to be prepared for all kinds of situations when I do these events, but this one... Wow. It occurred to me that Leslie hadn't said anything about dinner tonight or about who would be picking me up in the morning to take me to the venue. Whatever. I could always call an Uber.

I explored the new house before settling into the downstairs bedroom. Leslie was right -- this home was going to be beautiful. Ethan's workmanship was meticulous. No sign of Ethan himself yet. Maybe he was picking up materials or something. I changed into shorts and a t-shirt to go for a run around the neighborhood. Obviously, I had the rest of the day and evening to myself. Fine with me.

I came back sweaty and ready to relax for the evening. Before I jumped into the shower, I laid out jeans, a top, and another matching bra and panty set on the bed -- black this time. It's fun to feel pretty underneath, even if nobody else knows. I guessed I wouldn't be needing the little black dress I'd brought for dinner.

The shower curtain was one of those clear see-though models. I got a little thrill thinking about what would happen if Ethan were to walk in while I was in there. I'm kind of a closet exhibitionist, if there is such a thing. I'm secret about it, but if the opportunity arises, I take it.

I purposely left the bathroom door open and turned on the water. Feeling good, I lathered up slowly, getting a little charge out of my nipples hardening as I smoothed soapy fingers over them. I tilted my head back and let water run through my hair. I arched my back, allowing water to flow down and over my tight butt. I was caressing my breasts and tummy, humming with pleasure and swaying my hips. Pretty soon I was full out dancing and singing in the shower as I soaped my entire body, paying special attention to my round, firm ass. I pretended I was on stage in an erotic dance show. I'd never have the nerve in real life, but the shower was a good place to practice -- just in case. My dance movements were turning me on, one soapy hand slipping through my pussy and the other on my nipples.

A low whistle behind me made me gasp. I turned to peer through the shower curtain and saw the most gorgeous man leaning against the door frame with a grin on his face. He stared openly at me with absolutely no embarrassment. "Oh my gosh!" I exclaimed as my dance came to an abrupt stop. "I didn't know anyone was here!" I instinctively tried to cover myself with my hands. It was a useless effort, so I gave up and laughed. I turned off the water and stepped out, reaching for a towel. "So, you must be Ethan?"

Ethan looked me over with amusement in his eyes. I looked him over just as thoroughly and noted the bulge in the front of his jeans. My heart skipped. Oh yes. This was fun.

"Sorry to interrupt. I heard the singing and stepped in to say hello, but when I saw your act, I couldn't help watching the show. Are you planning on going professional?" His grin widened.

"Oh, well, no, I don't think so. Uh -- can I get past you and get to my clothes?" For all my secret exhibitionist fantasies, I was blushing hotly at having one of them actually come true. Ethan was a gentleman, though. He stepped aside and said, "When you're ready, join me in the kitchen for a glass of wine. No hurry." He jauntily strolled out of the room, whistling softly.

Oh. Wow. I couldn't believe what just happened. His hot eyes on me. Aaah! So damn sexy. And that grin. And that body. And that bulge. I needed to calm down before I could face him again.

"Hi. I'm Jenny," I said and smiled as I held out my hand. He was in the kitchen with a bottle of red and two glasses. "Thanks for letting me stay in your new house. It's lovely. I understand you're building it? That's amazing." Ice broken, Ethan and I got along famously. He was funny and charming, sexy as hell. I caught him sometimes running his eyes over me like he could see right through my clothes. I guess he already knew what was under there. Leslie had texted him about me, but he wondered how it happened that I was staying here. I told him the whole story and he laughed. "Seems like you've lost your dinner party, too." Then, "May I take you to dinner tonight? I know a nice place a few blocks from the Arch by the river. It would give me great pleasure. Do you have a dress?" Oh yes. Be still, butterflies in my tummy.

Dinner was lovely, of course. And flirtatious. I felt sexy in my little black dress, and Ethan was devastating in his button-down, dress pants, and blazer. It was his eyes that captured my attention most, though. I loved how he looked at me, my breasts, legs, face, butt, mouth, eyes. I ached for him to look at me more. As the evening unfolded, I tried to imagine how things would either end or continue. What did I want to happen? My conscience told me I couldn't sleep with him, as he was Leslie's boyfriend. Even though I'd only met her once, I wouldn't abuse her hospitality that way. So unprofessional, too. But would it hurt to look? Could I get him to show me his cock? Just thinking about it made me wet. I had been looking at him just as much as he looked at me, and I was sure the bulge had been there all evening. I definitely needed to spend time with my vibrator once we parted. I always brought it on trips, just in case. You never know when you might need a quick release.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck. I didn't pack it!" Ethan, the perfect gentleman, had brought me home, sweetly kissed me goodnight, and sent me to bed alone, albeit reluctantly. I dove through my suitcase looking for the damn vibrator, but remembered I'd left it on the bed at home. "Fuck!" Ethan, overhearing my exclamation, tapped lightly on the door. "Anything wrong, Jenny? Can I get you anything?" I opened the door and caught my breath again at the intense look in those eyes. "Well, um..." I laughed self-consciously but decided to just say it. "I forgot my vibrator." The grin was back in full force. "Well," he drawled. "I would be happy to run out and get a new one for you." I stared at him. Seriously? "But there would be a small price to pay," he continued. "I get to watch you use it." Oh my. Yes.

When Ethan returned, I was ready. Sitting on the bed with nothing on but the black lace bra and panties. A light spritz of perfume. Chair positioned for optimum viewing. One side light on. Ethan looked at me like he couldn't get enough, and I felt chills. He unwrapped the vibrator, filled it with batteries, handed it to me, and sat down in the chair, all without taking his eyes off me. I turned it on slow and began moving it between and over my breasts. "Take off your bra," he growled. I did. He groaned at the sight of my exposed round breasts, which increased my confidence as well as my wetness. "You are so beautiful," he whispered. I spread my legs and moved the vibrator down where I needed it while my other hand flicked my nipples. His voice was rough, "Take off your panties. I need to see you." I stood and turned around to lean over the bed, pushing my ass toward him as I slowly wiggled my panties to the floor, all the while using the vibrator on my clit. This was my preferred position when I was alone. I turned sideways and put one knee on the bed, opening my pussy for his fuller inspection. I played with my tits and moved the toy between my pussy lips now slick with my arousal. Now I was the one whimpering, panting, bucking my hips. I lay down on my back and spread my legs farther. I used one hand to spread my pussy lips apart and swirl my clit. With the other I placed the vibrator at the entrance to my hole, then pushed it in and out. All the time, my eyes were on Ethan as he pierced me with his hot eyes and rubbed the bulge in his pants.

"You know what would help me cum, Ethan? Take your pants off and let me see your cock." He readily complied, and I gasped at my first sight of his gorgeous member -- red hot, throbbing thickness. This is what I wanted. He stroked himself and moaned as he watched my passion increase. I loved this sight. I could watch him pump it all night. As I gazed at his hand moving faster on his cock, I turned the vibrator up to high speed and moved it to my clit. I couldn't help myself. "Come over here and put it in my mouth," I begged. I hummed and sucked on that beautiful cock as my tension mounted. He fucked my mouth and watched me squirm. It was the final push that sent me over the edge, and I came hard, crying out as I stiffened and bucked. He pulled out of my mouth with a groan and shot his load over my face, breasts, tummy. Over and over. Oh. My. Goodness.

We ended up doing this all night. Sometimes I put on my little erotic dance show for him while he stroked himself to his climax. Sometimes he suggested more positions for me to expose myself to him while I used the vibrator on my own body until my orgasms wiped me out. Finally, we collapsed, totally sated. Ethan did sleep with me, curled up behind me, holding me until morning. I showered and put on my professional mode again -- cool, calm, ready to take on the day. When my Uber came, he loaded my suitcase, kissed me deeply and said, "Thank you."

It was the perfect date.
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The Perfect Date

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