I had a very vanilla first date tonight with a very vanilla guy. Barbecue and shopping. It was lovely in a very vanilla way.
"You should have just kissed me," I texted him after we parted ways. I knew he'd wanted to kiss me. He'd hugged me twice. We had a couple of minutes of awkward goodbye conversation. He'd looked at me like THAT.
"I know. Too awkward for my own good. Opportunity missed. I had a nice time though. Thanks for that."
"I had a good time too. And don't worry. You will have another shot at it if you want it."
"That does sound very enticing. I'm going to take you up on that!"
Could I have ended the awkwardness and kissed him tonight? Absolutely. But then that would have ended my fun.
No, he doesn't know I'm kinky. He doesn't know I'm Dominant. Doesn't know anything about my dark side. And I'm sure he has no clue how much I enjoyed his discomfort tonight. How I grinned for nearly 30 minutes afterwards as I recalled his anxiety.
I could have kissed him. I could have ended his misery. I didn't. I was enjoying it way too much.
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