Friends to Lovers FMC Background flavoring
First some background —
We have an upcoming 4-day Uni weekend. A classmate is planning a trip home. My folks are traveling, as is my safe guy and his family, so I’m not looking forward to being alone and bored at home. She invites me to go along to her folks’ home.
Turns out that there are several classmates who are from the same town going home for the weekend. One of them is driving her Mom’s retired carpool van. Come the appointed noontime and we pile aboard for the 9-hour trip.
Begin interesting parts (but not up to the date, yet) —
I’m sitting in a row with five backpacks/suitcases and one fairly hot guy. We start driving and the really stiff shocks on the van cause us to bounce around a bit. Talking classes and recent movies with my hot seatmate and I’m beginning to get excited. On a bounce, I decide he needs a kiss. Yea! The kiss turns deep, open, and lasts for several minutes. We break, sip some soda, and proceed to try and suck each others’ tonsils out. Soon we’re climbing all over each other, rolling around as well as possible in a van seat. Doesn’t take long to notice that he’s reasonably well endowed for a shorter than me white guy. Stop after about 5 hours at a fast-food joint. Take a potty break, and get burgers, fries, sodas. Back at the van we take the back seat. None of the others, who had been subjected to various sound effects, slurping, and moving distractions objected, so we had most of a 4-seater bench seat to play on. OK, lip locks, ear and neck nibbles, palm licking, finger sucking, hugs, caresses, etc. for the next four hours. Even though I kept the kissing and nibbling to already-bare skin areas and caresses to outside our clothes, we were both really effectively turned on. I was certain he had been hard for the full four hours when we pulled up to his home to drop him and his backpack off.
I didn’t know his name, and I didn’t ask my classmate. As soon as I got to a bathroom, of course, I had to rub a few out. Over the next three days we had a fine old time. Had a pair of three or so hour horseback rides/picnics, a trip to their local movie theater, and another trip to shop at their outlet mall. Lots of homemade farm/ranch style eats, friendly and interesting conversations, and relaxation. I even got to drive a hay baler one afternoon. Soon enough it was time to head back to LA.
Van girl picked us up first. I spread myself out on the back seat and simulated taking a nap. Three other pickups and we reached my new friend’s place. When we stopped, I hopped out and grabbed his backpack to sling it onto the backpack pile. He seemed stunned. Oh, guess I didn’t mention that I picked up a ruffle halter Bikini top and a pair of short shorts at the outlet mall and that I didn’t care that my girls wouldn’t be tightly restrained during the trip. He was wearing a tee shirt and walking shorts.
After making out for 15 minutes or so, he told me he kept being reminded of me all weekend because his tongue and lips were sore all the time he was home. I took that as a compliment. That didn’t hamper us, but I did allow him to have some of our tongue play in his mouth. Our route back down to LA retraced our route up. At the food stop I chose the Colonel’s fried chicken; he walked over with me and got the same. After a restroom trip we climbed back into the van to eat on the road.
I had another bright idea. Ever thought of the fact that eating chicken wings can be a truly sensuous activity? Grab the middle section of a wing and detach it. Tear off the skin with your teeth, crunch it up, and gobble it down. Hold the piece of chicken by the cartilage connecting the two bones on the small end. Slowly suck it into your mouth. Keep sucking and pull the now-naked bones out from between your lips. For extra credit, push the flesh part way out of your mouth and lean over and rub it on his lips. Of course, he’ll play along and nibble on the offering until he reaches your lips. Wash, rinse, and repeat. Once the chicken’s gone, return to our serious make out session.
About 45 minutes away from the Uni, I finally ask his name. He turns bright red and starts stammering. I pull his wallet from his back pocket and get his name from his license. Then I set up a date with him for a picnic on the coming Sunday. When we’re a minute or two away from his dorm I ask, “Hey, <name>, want to have sex?” Again bright red, mumbling something about having a girlfriend from his home town who is going to a college in Iowa. By then we’re stopped in the parking lot for his dorm. I grab his backpack and hand it to him as he climbs out the sliding door and tell him, “OK, I’ll pick you up at noon on Sunday. I’ll be driving a blue pickup. Sleep tight!” He’s still flustered and blushing as he walks to the dorm door, where he turns back and waves. We haven’t even exchanged phone numbers, but I really want into his pants.
That ends the preliminaries. On to the bad date part.
I arrive at his dorm about 11:50 on Sunday. He’s waiting outside the dorm door. I beep my horn and he starts walking over. I jump out and extend my arms for a hug. He walks around the truck and gets in the passenger seat. A bit confused, I get into my seat and lean over to give him a kiss. No go! He doesn’t lean toward me at all. I don’t make a scene and drive off to my favorite picnic area in the foothills.
After I park, I scoot over, grab his face with my palms on his cheeks, turn his head and start kissing. It takes several tense seconds, but he eventually reciprocates. The kiss lasts a few minutes and ends somewhat reluctantly. We exit the truck, gather the picnic supplies, and head over to an empty table. I set out plates, silverware, napkins and the food. We sit together on the uphill side of the table looking out over the city towards the sea and begin eating. I’m sitting very close to him, so each time he moves his arm it touches mine and I break out in goose flesh and sigh.
The family at the next table finishes their lunch and the kids start clambering for dessert. Turns out that the family was having their picnic to celebrate a birthday. The Mom reaches down and pulls up a cake carrier holding a well decorated birthday cake. She looks over and offers us pieces, but we are already full and pass. I gather up the detritus of our picnic. We put our trash in the county’s dumpster and take the good stuff back to the truck.
I grab a flask of coffee and some paper cups and I suggest we walk on one of the trails, and we do. As the trail wanders into the trees, I reach over to take his hand. He notices and steps away before I make contact. That was enough for me. We had spent about 18 hours heavily making out to our mutual satisfaction a week ago. Now, suddenly, it’s no contact allowed?
I not so gently confront him and he sets off stammering. Again. I get him to sit with me on a downed tree trunk. After a lot of verbal poking and prodding I extract his story. He intends to someday propose to his girlfriend. For some reason over the past few days he has committed to staying a virgin until his wedding night. He’s afraid that any making out might lead to the loss of his V-card. Internally I’m screaming “What the fuck were you thinking?” Externally I somewhat calmly let him know that some several hour sessions of 69 wouldn’t impact his V-card. He goes white as a sheet and his eyes start rolling back in his head. I haul off and give his cheek a sound slap; he jerks, but at least he doesn’t pass out.
I give up and we walk back to my truck. In total silence I take him back to his dorm. As he gets out I deadpan to him “Have a nice life.”
Thus ended my worst, most frustrating, most disappointing date ever.
Leonara Elizabeth Golosa Reads 