When Kyle met roxy, part 3

Parts one and two tell the story of roxy and I meeting at the airport and going to the hotel room I’d booked for us and subsequent activities in said room.  Part 3 continues the story: it’s time for our first date.

Part 3:

When roxy and I were planning our long distance, jet-fueled booty call, I had some activities in mind.  And no, I’m not talking about sexual positions or bondage scenes (not that we didn’t also talk about those).  I wanted something more than just hours in a hotel room, I wanted some romance.  I wanted to give her the experience of being out with a butch, to show her the joys of accepting chivalry.

After all, I’d posted this as a sexual goal for 2009:

My sexual goal for 2009 is to show Roxy (http://uncommoncuriosity.blogspot.com/) what it’s like to be sexually satisfied by an experienced butch, a pleasure that has eluded her thus far in her life. I’ll take her out for dinner and dancing and then romance her into a state of bliss. And then we’ll both blog about it.

With that in mind, I did some research on where to go for dinner and decided where to take her dancing.  We talked a lot in the weeks preceding about our plans and when I talked about the gift of chivalry I planned to bestow upon her, she balked a little.  Well, she wanted to be open to my courteous attentions, but wasn’t very accustomed to letting the guy open the door and pay the tab.

As told in my first two posts about this visit, once we had gotten to know each other at the hotel room, it was time to finally go on our first date.  I began my ardous 15 minute pre-date routine by fixing my hair, I wasn’t going to be seen in public with my ‘fuck-hair’, then got my dress shirt on.   Then I spent a significant amount of time getting my new tie tied.  I’m still new at it and wanted it to be just right.


This is my new tie, the one roxy brought me for this occasion.  It’s beautiful — diagonal stripes of dark blue and black — and there’s a story behind her bringing it to me.  Back when we were fantasizing about meeting, she mentioned that she’d love to see me in a tie.  Not sure now how that came up, might have been a cyber-scene involving a schoolboy and a teacher.  I said I’d love to wear one for her, but didn’t have any, and didn’t have any dress shirts either.  So I promised her that if she’d bring the tie, I’d get a dress shirt.

I talked to roxy the day she bought the tie, or ties, as it turns out.  She bought an identical one for Mr. Roxy as well.  She also kept me up to date and involved in the process of selecting her outfits — what she’d wear on the plane and on our date.  She told me about long boots and short skirts and lack of adequate chest coverage.  Needless to say, I approved.

We were finally dressed for our night out and then it was hard to leave the room.  I wanted to tear into her right then and there, and she had similar ideas about me.  Somehow we controlled ourselves and made our way down the elevator, through the lobby and out to my pickup.

We went to 13 Coins for dinner, which was conveniently close to our hotel.  We walked down the sidewalk, toward the entrance, holding hands.  That simple gesture can be pretty powerful when you’re not used to being publicly queer.  I’m pretty bold and casual about my PDA, not really even seeing the way people look at me anymore, though roxy noticed the looks we were getting.  We walked into the restaurant and approached the hostess.  There was a 15 to 20 minute wait for the main seating area, but none for the bar.  I was already inclined to sit in the bar, wanting a more laid back, intimate setting for us.  It was nice, cozy, dimly lit and very romantic.  There was even a guy playing piano, and singing songs we could sing along with.  We were seated in a nice corner table.  I started out sitting in a chair with my back to the room, facing roxy in the bench seat along the wall.  I reached across the table to take her hand in the two of mine.  Again, a simple gesture, but so powerful.  Her hands are soft and warm and heavenly and that warmth stands out for me.  I remember very well how the warmth radiated from them through my clothing.  I remember the liquid look in her eyes and the way my stomach flip-flopped when she licked her lips.


It wasn’t long before I was sliding into the booth next to her.  We were barely more discrete than two teenagers on a date.  Touching, kissing quickly, looking into each others eyes and laughing.. apparently we made a splash in that establishment.  According to roxy, plenty of people looked in our direction, whether in admiration or consternation, I don’t know because I only had eyes for her.  I usually forget that it’s still noteworthy when two women carry on in an obviously romantic way in public.


We made a dinner out of yummy appetizers.  I had a fancy looking portabella mushroom dish, while roxy enjoyed the  caprese salad.  We also ordered bruschetta to share.  We ate, traded bites and flirted, with miss thang showing off more leg than is proper in public, which made me very very happy and hot.  Every time we touched it was electric:  her fingertips across the back of my hand, my palm stroking her from her shoulder to the back of her neck, hands on thighs, even our looks seemed to have a physical impact on each other.  Watching her pull her skirt up and exposing herself for me made me want to forget my manners.

Finally it was time to leave the bar and go dancing, if only to keep ourselves from doing something indecent. Back in my truck, we took a few moments to make out and almost went further but found some self-control and left the parking lot.  We headed south, to Club Silverstone in Tacoma.   The drive gave us more time to chat, flirt and touch.

I offered my arm to roxy as we approached the club.  We had quite a discussion about which side she was supposed to be on:  street side or building side.  I thought she should be in the building side, to guard against cars splashing her from the street.  She cited some medieval logic about offal splashing the inside of the sidewalk from above.  Yes, this *exactly* the kind of stimulating conversation we had all night long.

Once in the bar, We settled into some comfy chairs with our drinks. My drink was the wonderful Black Butte Porter, her’s a coke with three cherries.  And why so many cherries, you ask?  Because she likes them and becuase she wanted to demonstrate her cherry stem tying trick.. all with her tongue.  I already had a pretty good idea what that tongue could do, but it is a pretty good trick.  So good, in fact, I considered getting her more cherries.

It was wonderful to be in a queer bar and not feel restricted.  I pulled my chair up in front of hers so one knee was between hers, my hands on her thighs.  There were lots more kisses, touching and conversation.  I loved being able to show her off, publicly claim her as mine for the night.  I know for damned sure there was no one nearly as hot as her in the bar.  Me in my tie and her in that short skirt and tall boots — we were the couple to watch.

The wall was throbbing with dance music from the adjoining room when we got up to dance.  Dancing is one of my favorite date activities.  I love music, love to let go and feel the rhythm take control of me.  Watching her move set me on fire and I moved in, dancing close, feel the heat building between us.  She leaned in and told me that she didn’t know how not to lead.  I told her to let go, to let herself feel my strength, to listen to what my body was saying to her.

We danced, we took breaks, we danced some more.  I really enjoyed giving her that experience.  Her eyes were bright, or half-lidded with lust, and her smile was contagious.  At one point, on the side of the dance floor, we held each other close and enjoyed some very deep kisses.  I pulled her in and held her ass. She reached down, sliding her hand across my belt and between my legs.  She grabbed me and held on, rhythmically gripping and pumping me while I tried to subtly thrust and grind down on her hand.  At some point I had to hold on to her, my arms around her shoulders, face buried in her neck as I groaned through my orgasm.  She got me off right there, leaning against the drink ledge on the wall, the music masking the sound.   Her arm around my waist, she swung me around and kissed me deeply, giving me the look of a carnivore who’s tasted blood and wants more.  Yeah, it was time to leave the bar and return to our room.

We were walking down the sidewalk and I was glancing around prompting her to ask me what I was looking for, in response I muttered “Alley-ways.. there aren’t any around here.. hmmmm.”  I believe she swooned a little thinking about what I wanted to do to her in an alley.  Then one of us brought up the subject of ‘walls’ as in ‘up against one’  and it wasn’t long before I had her pinned against a wall between two storefronts.  There weren’t many people out on the sidewalk at that hour, and I didn’t care at that point.  I pressed myself against her and we kissed, hot and wild, our hips beginning to work in that ancient rhythm.  I brought my knee up, pressing hard against her pussy.  She moved against my leg, gasping and moaning.  I began to bang my thigh against her, building up speed and impact, until her body was slamming against the rough, uneven surface and her moans took on a tone I was beginning to know well.  She came as I ground myself into her, fingers in each others hair, mouths seeking to gain dominance.

Staggering a bit afterward, we made our way giggling and kissing, bumping hips and teasing, back to my truck.  She wanted to get pictures of the front of the bar and of that wall, so I drove slowly past, then parked.  She got her pictures and I watched as she strode back to me, up the street, camera in hand, boot heels clicking on pavement, the most carnivorous smile on her face.  Man, oh man, she is one hot fine looking woman.

I wolf whistled, “Hey, good lookin.. need a ride?”

We bantered a bit, playing the ‘pick up’ game, with me sweet-talking her into my truck, promising nothing more than a ride back to her hotel room.  Soon our flirty, suggestive talk quieted as we made our way back up I-5 to Seatac.  She rested her head against my shoulder and closed her eyes.  She perked up again when we reached our hotel, winding her fingers into mine as we made our way to the room.

All photos by roxy

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