-
Alix James posted an update in the group
Your Fantasies 11 years ago The inspiration that Mrs. Mallory provided me continues…This is a second installment of the same “Fantasy” which resulted from Mrs. Mallory’s recent post in the Photo Orgy section of the website…
I previously told a story that set the stage and made the result clear enough, but I never really explained what happened between those two points in time…
This is the story of our first date! Hopefully it will add to everyones dizziness. Enjoy!!!
You met me for our dinner…
So, you were being open minded about me as a person, but before you even pulled into the parking lot, you had already decided that you would provide zero opportunity to even think that there would be any chance of us being intimate. You wouldn’t consider that on any first date with anyone anyway, but especially not someone that you accepted a date from out of professional courtesy! At most I would have to steal an awkward and uninvited peck on the cheek when we said good night – but even that would most likely be no later than as we are leaving the restaurant.
I was pleasant enough, but after a second or two, you looked right past me…handsome, but not your type. Forget about chemistry…you didn’t even give me a fighting chance to test those waters…
“Don’t worry about that”, I say to myself, “Lets just see how this goes”.
From the second we sat down, I was pleasant and polite and gracious…even affable…and pretty much remained that way for the entire time we were at the restaurant. No matter what roadblock you would throw up (and there were plenty!), I always found a way to work with it.
Clearly I was trying to be thoughtful and find a way to connect with you, but you really weren’t having any of it, with your clearly calculated and meticulously planned approach to our dinner, but still, I never registered even a hint of frustration and found a way to keep the conversation going without any pauses or awkwardness, I knew if you were what I was looking for, then that very well should be expected!
Every once in a while I would ask a seemingly simple question and you would casually blurt out a short but surprisingly frank answer. A half second later, I would see you catch yourself…clearly horrified with what you just said…realizing that the answer you gave was not really what I was asking. Worse, when you put your impulsive answers to my actual question and not the one you THOUGHT I was asking at the time, they were seemed to be especially revealing and unfiltered answers…blunt…closer to the real truth for you than the answer you would give to even the very best of your friends.
You were mad at yourself for being so impulsive…not thinking…not managing and filtering yourself more carefully…thank god you really didn’t care what I thought about you anyway, but some of the things you said you would not want to find their way back to your Client…
As the meal progressed, I would ask you a pointed or personal question, questions that ordinarily would be considered quite forward, even borderline inappropriate depending on what purposes I might use the answer for. At the very least you were getting annoyed, you found it to be prying and given your professional relationship with your Client, there was certainly that aspect of being VERY concerned about how your answers might come back to haunt you.
But every time I asked you to tell me something that you instantly registered as potentially threatening, I did so in a way that seemed so…indifferent…as if I really didn’t have some expectation or preference for what your answer would be…as if it really didn’t matter other than in helping me understand you better…and it definitely felt like I wouldn’t judge you one way or another, regardless.
Time and time again, and always against your better judgement you took my bait and played my game and answered in the most pointed and direct and honest and unselfconscious way possible. After every answer, you found yourself momentarily gripped by regret, physically seized for a half second. “Shit!…Why would you tell him that? Better yet, even if you wanted to say it, why would you have said it the way that you did? What is wrong with you tonight? Get a fucking grip”
Each time you found enough of a rationalization to start breathing again…and carry on…not close your eyes take a breath and impose a 10 count “time-out” on yourself….”Oh well…what difference does that really make?”…”Your Client said he was harmless, he better be right”….”You won’t ever see him again”…”Just get through this meal”…”Let it go”…”This isn’t a job interview”…”Good thing you don’t have any plans to run for political office…”
After a while your annoyance at my questions and your seeming inability to self-regulate and filter what you were thinking above the 3rd grade level started to wear on you.
You still kept your outward cool, but inside, you were starting to get angry, you all but stopped with the calm slow eye contact of someone who wants to find a deeper connection with another…your fork and knife seemed to be stuck to your finger tips, never finding the time to “rest” with all the action required to prepare and serve your next bite! Your tone of voice, while still pleasant,and still expressing your answers with the same polished phrasing, had taken on a bit more of an edge. But at the same time, there was something pleasant, endearing, almost apologetic for the way in which you were starting to respond.
“You have been very well trained to filter your real thoughts and mask your true feelings haven’t you?”, I thought to myself. “Indeed, you are a very smart, proper, powerful, incredibly polished professional woman, aren’t you Miss. M? Umph…Beautiful!”
But I kept making statements and asking what your thoughts were on this subject and that…short questions inserted in the middle of my answer to help clarify or contextualize or deepen your understanding of what it was I was saying…quick thoughtful pointed comments or observations, which I placed strategically on either side or around the main question to express my own thoughts or perspectives or just to acknowledge that I don’t know the right answer or that there even even is a right answer, so that you knew that I wasn’t trying to corner you on something.
After a while, the urgency and enthusiasm with which you were answering my questions started to change. It was clear that you had stopped filtering…well…or at least stopped beating yourself up after every answer and therefore the pace of our conversation picked up. Now it was coming fast and furious.
Your anger started to find its way into your answers. At first it was in small ways…a sharp chuckle under your breath…a brief moment of exasperation registered through the quick but subtle tilt of your head…the mostly concealed from my view partial roll of your eyes…each a different but distinct response to your growing discomfort with the questions themselves but more so with how you were answering them.
Eventually, the sarcasm and more biting wit started to emerge as you shot me a threatening glance or threw a question back at me…sometimes peppering me with a whole series of questions which didn’t seem designed in the least to hide or mask your intention to use my answers to shame me or make me admit something that you presumed must be highly embarrassing for me, or catch me in some seeming logical or factual incongruity.
But I answered each of them calmly, truthfully, in exactly the way I had been asking of you. And each time I could see the small flinch as you would realize that I was answering exactly the question you had asked, I wasn’t twisting the words around or using entendre to say something different that what my words were, and it was neither shameful or embarrassing or incongruous with anything else I had said – or it might seem any of those things I would remind you of something I had expressed earlier in our conversation to explain why it was none of the above.
But there was no sense of glee or joy registering in my words or my eyes or my body from pointing that out either…just matter of fact…making sure that I was being clear. There was no overt competitive undertone or steely eyed gamesmanship that you could detect. I wasn’t passive or indifferent, in fact I was absolutely contributing an immense amount of energy to the conversation…matching your own energy level each and every step of the way.
“This guy is good…”, you thought to yourself, your competitive nature welling up, before long it was boiling and then it started to rage! You didn’t realize just how incredibly high the stakes of this “innocent” little dinner might become, or how threatening this supposedly “harmless” man might turn out to be.
Now that you have clued in though, this game over… Your not going to give up that easily…its not too late…it is never too late!
N
o fucking way are you going to let someone else do this to you…you’ve got this!Sure, it might get a little ugly in the short run… He may not like it…well…almost certainly won’t like it, and there will DEFINITELY be some fallout and damage control with your Client when all of this is over…
But you have been shutting down assholes like this for as long as you can remember! If they awarded a black-belt for shutting down stupid, egotistical, shallow, men who were players, you would be a 10th degree Dan!
You took a deep breath and let the realization that you really were good…the best…at games like this, wash over you. You let your guard down and it ALMOST cost you…thank God you figured it out!
Now pull yourself together and end this once and for all!
There was a moment tonight when it seemed like you were upset…confused…a moment where what you were saying didn’t make any sense. You were saying it exactly in the same way that you had answered all the other questions…same pace, same tenor, same facial expressions…but you seemed…different.
Before I had felt like you were just being yourself…you were relaxed…you were self-confident…you seemed really casual and cool…but then…as you continued to answer my questions, it felt as if you had left…like you weren’t really there. Your answers all seemed fine…I accepted them exactly as I had the others…I believed you were telling me the truth…but suddenly, I felt completely alone at the table?!?
I kept talking to you, you kept answering, and yet…I still couldn’t feel a thing from you. Eventually I was on the verge of giving up. I figured that somehow I had blown it…I didn’t know what I said that could have shut you down like that, but it seemed pretty clear that I had. I was about to get up, apologize for how it didn’t seem to be working out and ask if you were OK to get home on your own, but then I thought I caught a glimpse of you again.
You had been fighting back…expert repartee…which deflected each and every attack…swiftly diverted it and gotten yourself back in position. At one point you were getting excited by the fact that you were holding your own…you even took a little glee from the fact that you were able to take an extra swipe or two back at me for the first time all evening. You even tossed in a few extra sarcastic “You want the truth? You can’t handle the Truth!” moments of bravado in there, but you were always quick to rein it back in. Any more and I would have taken note that might need some work
But still you were feeling uneasy…”I don’t get it…I am not kicking his ass, but he is definitely not winning any more, why is he acting the exact same way?” “There is no way he can’t see that at BEST this is going to be a stalemate” “He is way to good to miss that obvious sign…more importantly, why is he looking at me so strangely?”
“Was that her?”, I thought to myself.
My calm, cool, open and honest and supposedly sincere demeanor, was actually making it worse…
Much worse!
Like some Jedi mind trick, one of those guys who will never admit defeat, even when it is clear that I am going to loose…or changes tactics and then tries to say we were playing under different rules, or tries to distract me by using other things against me, like “how much better they look now than when they were younger”, or regaling me with stories about “how much other women desire them” and proceeding to describing any number of stupid shameless humiliatingly desperate stunts they will pull to get their attention, or “how much money he makes”, or “how important their friends are” and/or “who they know”, or worse, playing the game itself off as if it were just some sort of fun gentlemanly parlor distraction…not serious…just for sport!
The real dirtbags try to become more dominant either physically by showing you how strong they are, or worse…emotionally by acting like they are so tough that nothing will affect them…so secure in their own skin and knowledge of who they are and what they want…like they are entirely indifferent to the outcome… Oh, but they are also quick to let me know that they “get it”, and that they would totally understand if you get upset…”that’s to be expected”…”it happens to the best of them [them being women!]”. But they would still be a real man, they wouldn’t leave you hanging…face up to the tough parts…and willing to be there for you…help you out if you needed a shoulder to cry on while you were working through all that disappointment.
UGHHHH!!!
What is his game anyway? I am not that clueless! Am I? More importantly, maybe its his attitude…whatever it is it is really starting to annoy you!
Why can’t you get me to admit defeat? At least break character long enough to end this charade…something that will let us have a quick laugh and get us both get off the hook gracefully?
Something…anything….whatever…as long as it allows you to stop answering all these fucking questions!!!
“It IS impressive”, you think to yourself. I have played this long and hard and haven’t given up a single inch of ground from the second I walked in the door. Those thoughts make you sit back in your chair. You actually realize that you haven’t been looking at me for quite some time…so you glance back up at me and we make eye contact. This time you actually stop and pause and look into my eyes…its a curious look…a combination of awe and wonderment and curiosity.
It feels good.
“There she is”, I say to myself…
“Wow…look at those eyes…she really is fucking beautiful!”
“OK”, I think to myself, “lets give this a little longer…maybe I just misread something…maybe she has been here the whole time.”
“Maybe I should have been a little easier on this guy,” you think to yourself, as you continue to watch me settle into my chair a little further. “He’s definitely not unattractive, he seems pretty smart and definitely has that good guy feel which he is definitely going to need to use every ounce of in order to keep women from running the opposite direction when they finally realize just how smooth a player he really is!”
“Formidable!” is the word that comes to your mind.
“Whew!” Your glad that you are back in control, but this whole thing still feels…Humbling. Apparently you are no where near as good as you thought you were! Note to self, “hubris is the talented mans blind spot!” It’s not just humbling, its also embarrassing…and a little humiliating…and almost shameful to think of what you might have done if you hadn’t figured it out in time! Holy Hell!!!
DAMMIT!
Why does it feel like you are still loosing?What are you missing?…?…?
Did he outplay you somewhere along the line?
Shit!…what is he doing now…why is he looking at me like that?
What should I do?
What is he doing with his hands by you face?…why is he leaning forward?
SHIT!, SHIT! SHIT!Wait…
Dammit he isn’t serious is he? What part of the game is this?
What game IS this? What if this isn’t a game at all!?!
No…
NO…
OH, FUCK, NO!!!
WHO IS THIS GUY?!?!?
I leaned forward and our lips touched…
It was clear!
“FFFUUUCCCKKKK!!!” was all you could think to yourself as you slowly leaned against the back of your chair and stared blankly into my eyes…
I sat back in my chair and I could see how completely overwhelmed you had become…
“Oops!” I thought to myself…”She didn’t see that coming at all did she?”
You couldn’t move…
You started to shiver…
You let out very a deep heavy sigh…and despite the physical chill you seemed to be experiencing…your still glassy eyes glanced up at mine once again…as they started to regain their focus, they became so warm and bright and content.
When I saw that I stood up and put my jacket across your shoulders to take the edge of that chill and motioned for the waiter to bring the check.
I sat back down, smiled and breathed my own heavy sigh of relief before looking back up into your eyes and asking…
“Are you ready?”
You didn’t say a word…you just kept staring at me, gave me a small, quirky smile and nodded “Yes”
I looked directly at you, took your hand in mine, stood up as said. “Thats it…That’s a Good Girl!”
-James
This was an enlightening look at how a first date can be negotiated and played. It is pretty fascinating for me. Makes me wish I tick a different way. All the men in my life, past and present, have a level of patience rivaling that of saints.
I admit this is my own totally imagined version of what I often think that women are thinking…how they position and process and contextualize certain things. After I posted it, I got a little self conscious because I realized that I could be totally off, and if I was, I certainly would be showing just how clueless I really am…in fact in how inadequate I have always felt when it comes to understanding women and what creates attraction and motivation to pursue relationships (don’t feel too bad for me, I think I actually have figured out what creates arousal in women pretty well and that alone has served me quite well thank you very much!). So I am intrigued by your response…what exactly did you find fascinating? Is fascinating code for the fact that you could relate to what I wrote as the woman? What does “Make me wish I tick[ed in] a different way” mean? At some level is this how you “tick” or are you suggesting that this sounds nothing like you at all?
Sorry for being so pointed (and prying) but I really am curious if I got anything right from a woman’s perspective…or…I guess in this case…from YOUR perspective!
Lastly, if it helps…that patience that you refer to that the men in your life have shown you…that is a sign of the fact that they can see past your fascade and are willing to put up with the less pleasant aspects because you are undoubtedly worth it! Those things, however trying, aren’t the real you. Most guys just need to know that their partners aren’t completely oblivious about what their own weak spots might be (or so egotistical to think that they are entitled to them in all scenarios) and would like to get a little acknowledgement… points in your book…for actually working with them instead of using them against you or resenting you for them. Why do you think an unexpected, unsolicited, wildly enthusiastic blow-job goes so far with most guys?!? Or why being able to throw you over their knee and spank your ass until you are crying is so effective at letting that shit go – for both of you?
Just sayin…
-James
I found your account fascinating because it is rare to get this much thought detail from a man’s perspective. For example, even in roleplaying, my male partner(s) can get into numerous details about the physical events from mundane to sexual. However, it is rare to hear as much about the thoughts and emotions.
I do not let people in easily, that is how I sometimes wish I tick differently. I wonder what I missed by being a guarded person.
Therefore, if I have let anyone in, anyone get a little close, it meant that he has been a very patient man. And yes, one who is willing to take a risk and recognize there is a depth he is interested in investing. And yes, one who understands that discovery is very erotic and each step achieved is incredibly hot.
Interesting…I definitely know that I am different from most men, so I will take that as a compliment!
Good color on you as well…
Last question, is there any “truth” to my characterization of the potential thought process of a woman along the lines depicted?
I guess my own experience is that absent being the best looking man or being the life of the party, or just being rich, it is hard for the smart, sensitive, thoughtful guys to break through the guards that most women (especially smart, high achieving, professional women) put up as part and parcel of wanting to play in a mans world (too many good looking, smooth talking, accomplished men with no substance to protect themselves against).
I have always thought about these women who couldn’t see me standing right in front of them…I wonder if they realize what they are missing???
Oh…and you must have a knack for picking some very smart men!!!
-James
I do think there are women who would respond and think as you described.
I think you are wrong that smart, sensitive, thoughtful guys are passed over. I think it is harder for both men and women with greater depth to break the ice with each other. I find it very hard to answer your question, perhaps because there is not a general one to give?
“unexpected, unsolicited, wildly enthusiastic blow-job equivalents” go a long way in both directions… also just sayin 😉
I don’t know that I would say it is the norm for all women, but I’ve seen\experienced a version of this with a certain type of woman. Personally, I’m about as guarded and hesitant as a hungry three year old in a candy store. So I’m definitely out of my element here.
I will also add, I think wonderful women feel passed over or feel ‘invisible’ to men every bit as much as you’ve described. I think it has a lot more to do with being human than being a man or a woman. I also believe it has so much less to do with the fact that people haven’t noticed you, or don’t want you, or are trying to protect against you (really don’t we all believe everyone is a swirling mess of unmet wants and desires – urges and fantasies not acted on by now?) and so much more to do with the fact that they just don’t go for it… are programmed and trained not to. We’ve all done this, so we all understand the reasons why.
I try to play with this now. To notice my habitual reactions, and limits, and choose sometimes to try to change or push them or at least have more choice around them. Lean into what is awkward, scary, uncomfortable or exciting instead of automatically shutting it down. There are so many harmless possible outcomes between shut it down and do something completely inappropriate or devastating that actually are really fun and energizing, if your willing to take yourself and the whole process less seriously. Sometimes even put myself voluntarily in the position of dealing with what I am most afraid of to get myself to the other side of it, to experience that break thru.
A big part of the problem is how devastated and hurt we get when it doesn’t work out, that instead of working on our flirting skills to get better at it, till ourselves its not worth it or were just not good at it and we work at turning it off, or pushing it behind a wall, so as never to be ‘humiliated’ or made a fool of or whatever like that again. This can be very stifling and limited. It’s funny we talk about how strong human sexuality is, what our own sexuality means to us. Well there is something stronger in you tied to your self-preservation instincts that has gotten or is getting you to shut some parts of yourself down on this. Maybe ego, pride, fear of being hurt, rejected, shamed, outcast etc. etc. etc. The catch is those things aren’t actually as requisite for self-preservation anymore as our instincts tell us, and the cost (depending on the person) is more than we actually want to pay.
The power of stepping through these fears became very apparent to me over time as I made choices like accepting my bi-sexuality. To allow it to happen, i had to give up certain ideas i had always had about myself and that I imagined others had about me, and make choices for my life that were much less about conventional paradigms, ego, security and acceptance, and much more about letting my own personal compass and perceptions and experience drive my life.
OMG it was so great (not to be confused with easy)!! That’s when i started to find ways to mess with this. Challenge my story, worries, reactions and resistance. It goes in spurts in my life. There are years when I am so adventurous and bold and out of my comfort zone… then there are years where I retrench, let myself be comfortable and content. I do know this, when I am pushing myself pervasively in my life, I am actually less afraid and feel far more alive and inspired.
Agreed!
And I am “passed over” all the time!
For whatever reason the comments by both lake and Mallory remind me of a comment I made a while back about the wonders (and consequences) of modern technological advancements in how we are socializing. First, the wonderful ability to take a few risks and put ourselves out there so much more fearlessly (at least on a preliminary basis) are so much more expansive that the real risks of failure embarrassment, humiliation have become significantly diminished, and the opportunity to establish ones “depth” credentials, so much easier to do more quickly and so much earlier in an interaction so as to largely skip past many of the games usually required to lower those guards!! Larga vida a la internet!
-James
PS: I know THIS guy “sees” the two of you (very clearly) and wouldn’t be “passing over” a single millimeter of either of you if you were standing before me!!! One can always hope!
James, your fantasy together with the conversations here got me fantasizing about getting hit upon and possibly being picked up. I decided to hijack the Erotic Collaboration you and I started (Untitled), as the setting for this fantasy. I hope you do not mind.
But of course…what better way to build off of something than to use what has already been established!