“You…what?” I glance over at her. “You like a man who’s not afraid to get his hands on you?”

Shit, man! I hope she’s kidding. Because if she’s not…yeesh! She seems so sweet and nice but…you never know about people. I don’t wanna date the town bike, especially if she’s a Sinclair.

“Huh?” Her face squinches up quizzically. “OH! What? Shit…that…that’s not what I said…is it?” Her eyes widen as she replays her own words in her head. “Oh my God. I meant, I…I… like a man who’s not afraid to get his hands dirty!” She’s stammering, her face beet-red.

“Holy shit, sweetheart! Hah! That must be the Mother of All Freudian slips!” I burst out laughing, but the look on her face stops me in my tracks. “Aww…hey…hey! I’m just joking.” I reach over and give her arm a gentle tug. “It’s okay! No, no, seriously! That was adorable!”

She tries to smile, nodding, but then she turns away from me and looks out the window.

Poor thing! She’s totally embarrassed now.

Awww! Of course she’s not gonna make a brazen, dirty comment like some two-dollar whore on her first date with a new man. Granted, she has tattoos and drives a muscle car like a bad-ass. But maybe that’s her way of rebelling…her way of trying to look edgy and tough.

Besides, don’t they say girls like that are sometimes protecting a tender, feminine nature?

Maybe her bold flirtation with me the other day was an impulse. Maybe… she felt brave enough to do that because she was with a friend and wouldn’t have dreamed of doing it if she’d been alone.

All I know for sure is, there’s more to this girl than meets the eye.

If she’s not as forward as she seems on first glance, then maybe I just got a glimpse of the real Marie…and she’s really just a sweet, over-protected girl from a good family.

I hope so. I really need something sweet in my life. My last girlfriend, who was separated from her husband, was a good person, but she was tough and not very vulnerable. Emotionally unavailable.

She definitely wasn’t soft and sweet. Most of my dates before her were decent, professional ladies…but they all had something hard and edgy about them.

I’m tired of cynical, jaded women. But at the same time, I don’t need a girl on the other side of the spectrum either…the special-snowflake type.

I can only hope Marie falls somewhere comfortably in the middle.

“Marie? You’re not upset because you had a slip of the tongue, are you?”

She turns to look at me. “No, just a little embarrassed.”

“Aww…sweetie, you don’t have to be embarrassed.” I try to think fast, looking for something to set her at ease.

Just then, we crest a small rise in the road. Coming into view is a little ice-cream shop that I’ve stopped at a few times.

“Hey…look! There’s an ice-cream shop? I have dinner planned but not till later. I’m kind of hungry now. What do you say?”

“I…I am kind of peckish, now that you mention it,” she says, flashing those pearly white teeth for just a second. It’s enough to make my heart soar. “Do they have custard?”

“Yes! Some of the best around!”

“Okay, sure. Let’s have dessert before dinner for a change…why not?”

We pull in to find ice cream shop empty, in the lull before the after-dinner crowd arrives.

Marie orders a small sundae with chocolate syrup and chopped nuts while I get myself a caramel cone drizzled with butterscotch.

The staff serve us up our order and we sit at one of their outdoor patio tables to eat. I take a big bite, devouring half the ice cream in one go.

I swallow and then look at Marie.

What I see makes me forget everything except what she’s doing.

Her long elegant fingers are delicately running the plastic spoon around the rim of her sundae cup, scooping some of the soft ice cream into it. Then she uses the spoon to make the same sinuous motion around the bottom edge of the chocolate sauce, letting it flow over the ice cream already in place. Finally, she touches the overflowing spoon to the chopped nuts, getting some to stick to the chocolate sauce.

Now, she’s got a mini-replica of the sundae piled onto her spoon. She lifts it to her mouth and awww…fuck!

My cock twitches as I watch her full lips close around the mounded spoon. Her lovely hand pulls it gracefully away from her mouth in a smooth, sensuous motion, the action pulling the soft pink flesh of her inner mouth outwards…making me instantly think of what her other set of soft pink lips might look like, if I was thrusting in and out of them.

Jesus Christ!

Her eyes close in ecstasy as she savors the nutty, chocolate-y mouthful.

My cock throbs a bit more.

“Mmmm,” she says, swallowing. Her warm dark eyes open and sparkle at me as she beams her brilliant smile straight into my heart. “I always like to savor my first taste.”

She licks her lips and laughs softly.

I grin back, speechless. I take another lick of my cone and she spoons up another bite of her ice cream, this time setting to it with more gusto. This doesn’t convince my dick to settle down any, and it continues to throb as she feeds herself. We consume our treats silently now, my eyes riveted on her graceful, sexy movements.

I can hardly believe how gorgeous she is…and how much my body is aching to hold her, kiss her, devour her and yeah…drive my cock into her as hard as I can.

Damn.

“You are a beautiful girl, Marie,” I say after a while, shaking my head. “You look delicious eating that ice cream.”

Her face reddens. “Thank you,” she says quietly. “You’re not too hard to look at yourself.” Her eyes flick downwards and glint mischievously. “Even if you’re about to wear that ice cream.”

A big glob of melting ice cream drops from the cone… straight down onto my pants.

“Ahh, crap!” I finish my cone in two bites and then scramble for a napkin.

Marie giggles as I swipe uselessly at my pants. Then she gets up and goes to the counter of the shop.

She returns with a cup of water and a handful of fresh napkins. “Thanks,” I say, dipping a napkin into the water. I use it to scrub at the stain on my pants, managing to get most of it off.

But a wet spot remains.

“Ahhh,” I growl, “now I look like I’ve pissed myself.” I sigh, looking at her sheepishly.

She throws her head back and lets out a single peal of laughter. It’s throaty, feminine, smooth and infectious, making me chuckle too.

“It’ll dry soon,” she says. “But, if you wanna go home and change, that’d be okay with me.”

“Nah. It won’t matter where we’re going. There won’t be a lot of other people there anyway.”

“Oh?” Her voice is bright and curious, her eyes dancing. “And where exactly is that again?”

“You’ll see very shortly,” I say, wiping my hands and mouth with a damp napkin. Finished her sundae, she follows suit, smiling at me impishly.

I stand up and hold my hand out to her. “I dare you to be seen holding the hand of a guy with a big wet spot on his crotch.”

Laughing, she takes my hand and squeezes it tight. Swing our hands together, we walk back to the truck.

* * *

We joke about wet crotches and spilled wine on clean blouses and other embarrassing mishaps until I turn down the long driveway leading to my friend Freddy’s place.

Located just outside Grove City, Freddy’s fifty acre property boasts, among other things, a motocross track custom built by me and Freddy, with the help of his boss, Mason. Mason’s business is robotics, building software and hardware in an industry that apparently pays them well enough to indulge in some damned expensive hobbies.

We pull into the dusty dooryard in front of Freddy’s house, a rambling old farmhouse, seemingly always in a state of renovation. I notice the house now has new windows and shutters, still sporting the manufacturer’s stickers.

Before we can even get out of the truck, Freddy comes out of the front door, waving.

Gilda, his enormous brindle Mastiff, follows closely behind him.

“Hey Mark! How they hangin’ brah?” Sticking out like an orange brillo pad under an old Yankees baseball cap, Freddy’s frizzy red hair flares in the afternoon sunlight, so bright it almost looks aflame. His eyes drift downwards to the wet spot on my crotch and widen.

A wicked grin crosses his freckled face. “You, ah…need to use the little boys’ room? Borrow a pair of pants?”

“No, you asshole.” I laugh. “I dropped some ice cream.”

“Oh, ain’t you smooth!” He cackles annoyingly.

“Yeah. Shut it, Red, unless you want me to shut it for ya,” I say, good-naturedly. He puts his hands in his pockets and laughs.

The big dog waggles her way to my side. “Hey Gilda…hey girl,” I croon. Ears back, her entire body gyrating with joy, the Mastiff shoves her face into my hand and gently grasps my fingers between her teeth, something she’s done since she was a pup.

Marie climbs down out of the truck and comes around to stand by my side.

“Hi there! What a fantastic dog!” Her exclamation makes Freddy’s face light up, his grin showing the gap between his big front teeth. “What’s her name?”

Gilda lets go of my hand and, still wriggling with joy, turns to the newcomer.

Looking up into Marie’s face now, panting and smiling her happy dog smile, the big canine takes Marie’s hand between her teeth to extend the same greeting.

I open my mouth to reassure my date, but Freddy quickly pre-empts me.

“Don’t worry, she won’t hurt ya,” he says quickly. “Her name’s Gilda. She just grabs people like that as a greeting.”

“Oh, it’s cool,” Marie replies, using her other hand to stroke the dog’s wide, solid head. “I love dogs.” She delivers a satisfying scratch to the thick fur at the dog’s ruff. “Hey, girl…who’s a good girl,” she murmurs, her voice butter-y smooth. That voice…so unique and so seductive…it’s like I can feel it massaging its way down my spine or something. “Yeah, you’re a good girl, arent’cha?,” Marie continues speaking affectionately to the dog.

Gilda, still holding Marie’s hand, turns her square, muscular body so that she’s leaning against Marie’s legs now, demonstrating her total acceptance.

Fred’s squinting at them, amused. “Fair warning, she’ll slobber all over you. Ladies don’t usually like that too much,” he adds.

“Pshaw,” Marie says, earning another of Freddy’s gap-toothed grins. “My friend Brenda’s boyfriend has a…oh! Well, you probably know Mark’s brother Rob?”

“We’re well acquainted, yup,” Freddy says.

“Well, his dog Tiny…the Rottie..? He’s my buddy. We wrestle every chance we get. I’m Marie, by the way.” She flashes him her smile and holds her free hand out to him.

I’m not surprised to see how her smile hits him right between the eyes, making his own smile wider and even more delighted.

“I’m Frederick. But everyone calls me Freddy. Nice to meet you, Marie.”

“Nice to meet you, too.”

Gilda releases Marie’s hand. Marie unselfconsciously flicks some frothy slobber from her fingers and then wipes her hand across the leg of her jeans.

Freddy chuckles. “I’ve got wet wipes stashed all over this place for just such an occasion. There’s some in the barn where I keep the vehicles, too.”

“So, um, where’s Darlene?” I ask.

“Oh! She might not make it tonight. She’s not feeling well. She said she’d call and let me know.”

“Sorry to hear that.”

“She gets hay fever pretty bad. The fields around here set her off sometimes. But we don’t have to wait for her or anything.”

“Okay, cool. Let’s get the festivities happening. I want to show you what I’ve got lined up for you, babe,” I say, looking down at Marie.

She looks up at me quickly from beneath her eyelashes, her bow-shaped lips curling up.

God, she’s beautiful!

I can barely take my eyes off of her as we follow Freddy and the dog to the barn.