As soon as I met Stepan, I knew, it was a mistake. The boys had given me enough money, the skirt was still flattering, and it was overcast, so my cardigan could hide the fact that my blouse was transparent and that I was not wearing a bra, so I was actually in quite a decent state. However, the entire outfit was a little crinkled, I felt really uncomfortable about not wearing underwear, my hair was a mess, and I was not wearing make-up. He looked really taken back. Out of all the men in this world, why do I have to meet one of the few ones with social intelligence? Most men would have not even realised, or not have thought any further about it, but he could read the signs, he knew that this was a very unlikely way to show up to a date and that something was wrong. In an impulse, the first thing I worried about was how I would get out of this situation
"I'll have to be home by eight o'clock to open the door for my flatmate Heather, who forgot her keys!"
Wow, what an opening. He looked at me with piercing eyes. 'What do you want?' they asked, even though he said nothing. I felt horrible and small, I did everything wrong. Just say nothing, from time to time, Maria, just shut up!
We walked through the park, and he started talking about Italy, I talked about England. To my infinite relief, we found our connection again quickly, we walked through roses, inhaling their smell, and then through the greens on which people were practicing all these incredibly English sports, like cricket and something that was like petanque but with large rubber balls rather than small metal balls. They seemed to take it very seriously. Some plaid football as well. My hand found his naturally, he took it, and even though I still felt strange about not wearing underwear, I relaxed.
Three hours passed like a blink of an eye. I did not want to go, but in a way I was quite glad I had manoeuvred myself in a situation where I had to leave. Things would have surely gone on from here, but it is a stupid matter of fact that it is profitable for the male state of mind if you make yourself a bit difficult. Stepan took my face in his hand and kissed me. I closed my eyes and parted my lips sligthly. They were very tender kisses at first, careful kisses, just with the lips, but, at one point, I could get a taste of his saliva. No onion this time, just that very nice taste of saliva that is not your own, a taste unlike any other taste. We kissed more passionately soon and I was leaning up against him, feeling the front of his body pressed up against mine, and he felt very good, his hands, his shoulders, everything. I do not believe in "he's-the-one-theory", but it felt very much like lock and key.
"I am sorry, Heather is waiting for me at home! I have to go."
His hands stroke lovingly over my bum as we kiss good bye. And that's where he must have realised that a panty-line was absent. He stopped, and then, without any warning, shoved his hand down my skirt over my naked bum.
"You're not wearing knickers!"
I looked at him apologetic. What must he think, i go on a date with him, not wearing underwear, and leave early on a lame excuse. He looked at me completely mystified and slightly suspiciously. Again, I cursed myself. Out of all the blokes I dated, why do I have to do a stupid cock-up like this with one of the few that have good instincts? Pretty much anybody else would not have realised it, and if they did, they would have been turned on, not thinking too hard about why I chose not to wear knickers and that it does not go with the logic of how the rest of the date went.
I decided to go for defense by attack, and out came something very stupid.
"Stepan, it is a really long story, and I cannot explain it to you at this very moment. It is stupid and involves me telling you things I do not think I want to tell you yet, but the one thing that matters is that I did not actually intend to date you not wearing knickers, I wanted to wear knickers, and the other thing that matters is that I am really serious about you and want to see you again, that the idea this could not go on from here patriifies me, and that I will not hide things from you. You'll have to trust me, please."
I looked him in the eyes. They said
"What the fuck?!?!"
Seconds later, he seemed to have made up his mind, he gave in
"Call me on thursday, alright?"
I nodded. He pulled me towards him, to give me another good bye kiss, and as he did so, he did something that I did not expect. He pulled up my summer skirt and grabbed one of my now uncovered back cheeks such that the tips of his fingers disappeared between my legs and just about made contact with the hair and the wetness of my pussy. He looked me in the eyes, his fingertips still actually almost inside my pussy, I heard my own heart beat, I did not know what to say, I just stared at him. He kissed me on the forehead, let go of my naked bum and the skirt fell down over it again. I stared at him, then turned on the spot and walked off, not looking back, but I could feel his eyes follow me up to the next street corner. I felt competing emotions, relief, remorse, arousal, submission, amusement. Before I turned in, I looked back, just to confirm what I had sensed, he stood where I left him, he smiled and his eyes rested on my body. I went off, hoping Heather would be home to open the door for me.
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