by Anthology
"Oh, Ian."
"It has a disco ball and a full bar inside," Ian said. "It'll just take me about twenty minutes for them to get here, and we can head over to pick you up."
"I don't need any of that. Just get here. You. Get. Here."
He laughed. "But I wanted this to be the best date ever..."
"It's already almost nine o'clock," she told him. "I don't care about the limo. Or what you're wearing. Or flowers. Or --"
"Shit," Ian said. "Oh, shit. The flowers."
"Forget the flowers!" Maura cried. "Just get here, Ian!"
"I'll be there in half an hour," he promised, and disconnected.
Half an hour? She'd spent hours already on her hair and makeup, and now that he'd be here in half an hour, she felt rushed. Maura flossed and brushed her teeth, freshened her makeup and perfume. Her hair needed a little more work. The curls she'd so painstakingly set were now limp, but she saved them by pulling her hair back from her face and leaving the rest to hang down in an artful tangle. Her clothes were a little easier, since she hadn't been fully dressed.
The hook on the bra she'd picked out had been mangled in the drier, and the bra wouldn't close. "Shit!"
Maura dug through her underwear drawer, looking for another bra that matched the lacy panties she'd already picked out -- no go. Which meant she had to change her panties, too. With a nervous look at the clock, she pulled out every piece of lingerie she owned, tossing everything onto the bed. Mix and match. How could she have only one set of matching scanties? She'd have to go without the garter belt, she decided. Find a pair of elastic-topped stockings, because there was no way she'd put on pantyhose for this date. With her luck, he'd want to strip her naked in the backseat of that armored car or whatever he arrived in, and she'd have cock-blocked herself with nylon.
She had three pairs of sheer black stay-up stockings. The first pair she tried on had no life left in the elastic, and sagged. She tossed them into the trash. The second pair snagged as she slipped her shoes on, sending a jagged runner up the back of her leg. Since she wasn't going for the punk rock look, she tossed those, too. Three was a charm and she smoothed them over her legs.
Finally dressed, Maura paced in her living room. Every single nerve in her entire body felt stretched and tense. Every sense, heightened. Colors, brighter. Light-headed with hunger, yet also somewhat nauseous, she sipped at a can of cola even though she knew it would only make her need to go to the bathroom.
Ten minutes passed. Twenty. Thirty interminable minutes dragged by while she wore a hole in her carpet. Her palms sweated and, disgusted and distraught that her deodorant was going to fail her, she opened a window to stand in front of the frigid December air.
On my way, Ian's text said.
Get here, Maura replied.
Ten minutes later, another ping. Hitting every red light.
She laughed because she wanted to cry. The universe had given her Ian when she couldn't have him, and then when she could, she'd been convinced she'd lost him. Now, when everything seemed as though they might finally, finally have a chance, here went the universe again, throwing every obstacle in their path.
Just forget it, she started to type. We can meet up another time.
But she didn't hit send. Five more minutes, she thought. Maybe ten. But no more than that. I won't wait longer than that.
Ten minutes later, one more message from Ian came through.
I have an idea.
Unless it's you knocking on my door, she typed back, I think you should just forget it.
Open the door, came the reply.
And there he was.
"Ian," she said. "Hi."
She'd imagined herself launching into his arms, covering his face with kisses. She'd pictured them tumbling to her floor in a tangle of arms and legs, clothes flying off, making love with barely a hello passed between them. She'd even thought about slamming the door in his face and telling him to get lost, she wasn't interested -- but that had been only in a moment of pique, never true.
Now they stared at each other awkwardly across her threshold before she stepped aside to let him in. Ian had never been in her house and suddenly, all Maura could see were the flaws. She loved this tiny bungalow, which had fallen into her post-divorce budget and also satisfied her desire for things like built-in bookcases and window seats. But Ian lived in one of those mini-mansions in a new neighborhood with a homeowner's association and rules about keeping your garage door closed. Now all she could see was the cracked plaster, the lack of furniture she'd left behind and hadn't yet replaced.
"Hi," Ian said.
Then he did the perfect thing. He kissed her. Softly, more than a peck but not a lingering, passionate embrace. Just enough to take the edge off their mutual awkwardness. A perfect, first-date kiss.
"I'm starving," he said.
Maura laughed. "I had to eat a snack so I didn't pass out. But...yeah."
"The steak place closes at ten. We'll never make it."
"I don't care where we go," she told him. "Really."
The forecast had been calling for snow, but what had started was icy rain. Ian grabbed her elbow to keep her from faceplanting on the icy driveway, but by the time she got in the car, Maura's hair was a mess. Her dress, soaked from the rain that had trickled in the back of her dress coat, because she'd forgotten to grab a scarf.
"Cold?" Ian asked as he fiddled with controls. "I have heated seats."
He backed carefully out of the drive, and the car's wheels spun. There was little traffic on her neighborhood's streets, which was good because he skidded at the stop sign and stopped only halfway through the intersection. Maura gripped the door handle in automatic reaction, and Ian glanced at her.
"What are you hungry for? We could stop for a quick snack before the movie, then get something more after?"
She wasn't sure what would be open by that time, especially if they were still aiming for the ten-forty movie, but by now she'd have eaten just about anything to keep herself from passing out. "Sure. There's that coffee shop just ahead to the left, they're open late. We could grab a muffin or something."
"And dinner after." Ian kept his eyes on the road, but shot her a grin. "Okay?"
The coffee shop sign said open when they pulled up, but as it turned out, they only had what was in the case for sale. And what was in the case was an oozing cheese danish and a crumbly scone. Neither selection looked appealing.
"Umm...popcorn at the movie?" Ian asked. "I'll even buy you nachos."
Maura laughed. "Okay."
"And dinner, after," Ian promised.
They got to the theater just in time to miss the last seats for the very popular movie he'd intended to take her to see. There was another movie that had started a few minutes earlier -- they'd miss the previews, but should be able to make it in time for the movie, itself.
"You go on ahead," Ian said, "get us some seats. I'll get the popcorn and drinks."
The problem with entering a theater already gone dark, Maura realized, was that finding a seat was difficult. In a packed theater on "date night," it was even harder to find two seats together. The choices seemed to be in the very front row, which would give her neck a strain and probably motion sickness, considering the movie was a sci-fi shoot-em-up. Or, they could take two seats in separate aisles. Opting for the front row, Maura snagged the last two seats and sent Ian a quick text to let him know where to find her.
He made it just as the lights went all the way down. He handed her an enormous bucket of popcorn and a drink big enough to swim in. Maura put the bucket on her lap and the drink in her cup holder, trying to get organized enough so that she could lean back in the chair at the right angle to see the movie without killing herself. She was annoying the woman beside her, and shot an apologetic look, but before she could get fully settled, Ian reached for her hand.
Surprised and pleased, Maura stopped fussing with the food and looked down at their linked fingers. She and Ian had held hands a few times, but
not like this. Not casually dating. Palm to palm, fingers entwined, their hands rested on his thigh. Heat flooded her, anticipatory but not quite sexual. They shared a look, grinning.
The movie began, and as she'd expected, the fast-paced action and special effects made it hard to follow while sitting so close. She already had a headache only a real meal would fix, and the movie was making it worse. Ian's hand in hers made it worthwhile, even as the steady throbbing behind her eyes made it impossible to enjoy the movie itself.
Twenty minutes in, the entire theater went dark. Screams rang out. The emergency exit lights flickered on, but nothing else did.
"Power went out." Ian leaned to murmur in her ear, sending a shiver through her. "Must be from all the ice."
Maura would gladly have sat, holding Ian's hand in the dark, for hours, but theater staff showed up with flashlights and started waving people toward the exits. The power had gone out and the backup generators weren't kicking in with enough juice to power all ten screens. The uproar was instant and furious -- Ian tugged her gently toward the exit without even trying to fight their way to the ticket booth for a refund.
Outside, the icy rain had started to come down at an angle, spanging against the slick ground and off the cars in the parking lot. Ian kept his hand on her the entire time, which was good because just as they reached his car, Maura completely wiped out. She was saved by falling on her face only because she landed on her hands and knees, scraping both and shredding that last pair of stockings. Ian went down too, on one knee, his hand grabbing the door handle, but his pants tore.
He was quiet when they got in the car, waiting for the fogged windows to clear. Then he looked at her. "This is the worst date I've ever been on."
She'd been thinking the same thing herself, and not even the ache and sting of her scrapes could stop her from bursting into tear-edged guffaws. It must've concerned him, because he turned to her and gingerly took her hands in his. He kissed her freezing, aching fingers.
"I'm sorry, Maura, I wanted this to be the best, and I totally messed it up."
"No, honey, it's all fine," she assured him, though with tears sliding down her cheeks and her inability to catch her breath properly, she was sure he didn't believe her.
"I'm sorry," he said again, miserably.
Maura stretched across the center console to kiss him, though the fact her teeth had started chattering made that difficult. "Ian, I'm freezing, I have an almost blinding headache, and if I don't get something to eat I'm going to start chewing these leather seats."
"I promised you dinner. I'm going to make sure you're fed," Ian said, determination glinting in his eyes.
The power outage had not only affected the theater, but also the entire chain of stores surrounding it. They drove a block, then another, and even the all-night diner was dark. The roads were horrible, too. When Ian's car skidded again, Maura turned to him.
"Take me home. I have plenty of food there, and if the power's out, I can build a fire."
Stopped at an intersection, Ian looked at her. "Are you sure?"
"I'm sure," she said. "Take me home."
***
The power had gone out in her part of town, too, but as she'd said, Maura built a fire. One of the reasons she'd bought this bungalow was for the working fireplace, and though it could be a pain and a mess, she loved the smell of a real wood burning fire. With marshmallow, chocolate and graham crackers, they could even make s'mores. She'd also pulled out a can of chicken noodle soup and heated it over the fire -- along with some French bread, it satisfied her gnawing hunger as well as any gourmet meal, and she told him so.
"Best laid plans," Ian said, though not as dejectedly as he had before. With a glass of wine in him and bundled in a pair of her overlarge fleecy sweatpants to replace his wet and torn khakis, his mood had lifted.
Maura had spread out a large sleeping bag for them to sit on, with the thick quilt from her bed to wrap around them because even with the fire going, the old house was full of drafts. Now she scooted closer to him. "You know what? Just the fact you had all of this planned, this whole night, all of it...that's what means the most to me. Even though none of it worked out the way you wanted it, the fact you went through all the effort of trying to make this night special means more to me than anything."
She kissed him softly, waiting for his mouth to open under hers. When it did, she slid onto his lap and cupped his face with her hands. She'd changed into yoga pants and a long-sleeved t-shirt, and she could clearly feel his growing erection through the thin material. Stroking his tongue with hers, Maura rocked slowly forward against him. She let her breasts rub against his chest. The t-shirt she'd lent him was oversized on her, but fit Ian like a second skin. She could feel the points of his nipples through it, and she shuddered.
"Ian, I want you."
His arms went around her. Fingers pressed the trigger points on her back, the pleasure-pain making her squirm on his lap. She broke the kiss with a gasp, still holding him close. Ian's hands moved down to settle on her hips. Between them, barely restrained by the sweatpants, his cock was even harder.
"I want you, too, but it's only the first date --"
"Shut up," she said into his mouth. "Don't you dare."
Ian's fingers tightened on the bare skin of her hips between the hem of her shirt and the waistband of her pants. "Yes, ma'am."
She kissed him again, savoring his mouth. Soft, sweet kisses, interspersed with harder ones. Their breaths mingled, and she drew him into her slowly. Other than the subtle rock of her hips and her mouth on his, she didn't move.
Ian groaned, at last, and Maura couldn't hold back a secret smile. She ground herself against him, loving the way he reacted. His kiss stuttered for a moment before he broke it to look into her eyes.
"I've thought about this," he said. "Dreamed about it, even."
It seemed impossible that she should be able to press herself closer to him, but somehow Maura managed. She stroked her thumbs over his eyebrows, then over his mouth to tug it open for her kiss again. Pressing her cheek to his, she whispered, "me, too."
He held her close for a minute or so in silence broken only by the throb of her heartbeat in her ears and the crackle of the fire, now burning low. They breathed in unison. In. Out. His hand stroked down her back; hers cupped the back of his neck.
"There were nights when I couldn't sleep because all I could do was think about you," Ian said. "I'd think about the feeling of your hair against my face. The way you taste and smell. I'd imagine the sound of your laughter, and it would kill me, Maura. Slaughter me."
"And then you'd text me."
He laughed. "Yes. Sometimes. When I couldn't stand it any more. But there were lots of nights when I couldn't make myself do it."
"Those were the nights I was bargaining with God," she told him. "Please, please let Ian text me."
They both laughed at that.
"I was stupid," Ian said.
Maura kissed him again. "Yes. You were. Touch me, Ian."
"Where?" His sly grin told her he already knew.
Maura guided his mouth to her throat. "Here."
Ian groaned again, teeth pressing her flesh. When he bit down harder, Maura gasped. When his hands slid up to cup her breasts, thumbing the nipples erect through the thin material of her shirt, she cried his name. Already aching with need for him, she ground herself against the thickness of his cock.
The tent they'd made of the quilt had warmed them, and now when Ian threw it off them the air seemed extra cold even in front of the fireplace. Maura shivered, her skin humping into gooseflesh from the chill but also from the scrape his teeth against her. She let her head fall back. Ian's mouth skimmed lower to nibble at the hollow of her throat. He put his mouth to her breasts, hot, damp breath pressing through the fabric. She cried out again when he took a nipple in his mouth, the sensation blunted enough to tease, but still delicious.
"Take this off." Ian eased her shirt up over her head, and gave a happy
, muffled sigh at the sight of her bra. "So hot."
She cupped herself, pushing her tits together. "You like?"
"I want to bury my face in there."
"Go ahead," she said with a laugh. "Maybe later you can put something else in there, too."
Ian gave a choked laugh. "Are you trying to kill me?"
"No. Just get you hard." She reached between them to stroke him. "Oh, Ian, Ian, you feel so good. I want to taste you."
Fuck, she loved the look on his face when she said things like that. His eyes went wide, pupils dilated, mouth a little slack and wet from her kisses. She loved knowing that just her words could turn him on so much.
"Will you let me, Ian?" She drew out the syllables of his name, knowing it was a trigger for him. Also her expression, wide-eyed, bordering on innocent. She ran a finger across his chin, then tapped his lips. "Will you let me taste you?"
"Oh...shit, yes. Please."
Maura smiled and got off his lap, standing so she could hook her thumbs in her waistband and push her yoga pants over her hips. She stepped out of them and stood in front of him in the bra and panties she'd so agonized over. She did a little wiggle, meaning to tantalize him.
She wasn't expecting Ian to reach for her, or to go to his knees in front of her. Maura coughed in surprised when he kissed her, his hands gripping her ass to hold her in place. Ian looked up at her as he reached over his shoulder to pull off his t-shirt. Then, still kneeling but proving his agility, he wriggled out of the sweatpants without getting to his feet.
"Wow," she breathed.
"I'm nimble."
Then his face was between her legs again, and Maura couldn't find her voice for more than a long, shivery moan. He licked her already swollen clit through the lace. His hot breath urged her hips forward. She needed his touch, his tongue, his fingers inside her, but Ian didn't pull her panties off. He licked and nibbled at the inside of her thighs before going back to her cunt, but he was teasing her on purpose. Her legs were starting to shake when he looked up at her again.
