Third Date by Laylah
For their third date in as many weeks, he invited her over to his apartment for dinner. It was a Saturday night in November and a light snow was powdering the streets of Manhattan. He greeted her with a light kiss and held the door for her as she stepped into his Murray Hill brownstone for the first time.
He helped her off with her heavy winter coat and Burberry wool scarf and she moved quickly to stand in front the blazing fireplace to ward off the winter chill. She immediately noted the enticingly pungent odor of dinner that filled the room and said simply, “Smells good!”
“Yes,” he replied, with a smile in his voice. “I hope you’re not disappointed!”
Then he said, “How about a quick tour and then I’ll pour you a class of wine.”
She grinned in response. He took her hand, motioned around the room and said, “Well, this is the living room, of course…” He led her from room to room, detailing the work that he was currently doing on the three-story, pre-war building. The restoration was a daunting project, but she was impressed at the progress that was already evident in the few short months since he’d owned the place.
Finally they reached the top floor, where he had torn out all of the walls to create a large master bedroom suite. Dark mahogany furniture filled the room and created a warmth that reflected his masculinity. As he continued to expand on the work that he still planned to do to finish the space, she noted a large flat wooden hairbrush on the nightstand. It was heavy in her hand when she lifted it. She looked pointedly at his light head of dark hair and said saucily, “And, what is this for?”
He stopped mid-sentence and reddened slightly. Then he noted the glint in her eye and immediately affected a stern look. “Don’t be fresh or you’ll find out exactly what it’s for!”
She gasped in surprise and uttered a little, “Oh!” He chuckled as she quickly set the brush back down as if it burned her palm; her face flushed to the roots. “Come on,” he said happily. “Let’s go get that glass of wine.”
She managed a hearty meal of roasted duck accompanied by a savory array of roasted vegetables, despite the distraction of flittering butterflies in her stomach after the brief but poignant exchange in the bedroom. She dared not hope that it meant what she hoped it meant.
He secretly thrilled at his luck in find this beautiful, self-possessed, independent and unaffected woman might be into the scene. He dared not hope that it meant what he hoped it meant.
After the dinner dishes had been cleared, they retired to the living room and settled in together on the large, leather sofa to enjoy the fire and a brandy. Eventually the easy and casual conversation lulled and he leaned in to kiss her softly, at first, and then more urgently. It was not the first passionate kiss between them. But, it was different. Somehow they both knew that this kiss would lead to another level in their relationship.
He paused only to take her brandy glass from her and set it down with his, on the table next to them. Then, he pulled her into his arms and covered her lips with his kisses. They made love for the first time languidly right there on the sofa, barely pausing to disrobe. Then, giggling and leaving their clothes in disarray around the living room, they ventured hand in hand, up the stairs to the bedroom.
Much later, as she lie with her back curled into the warmth of his body, she reached out and picked up the hair brush again. “Do you really spank your girlfriends with this?” She asked boldly.
His voice was low and close to her ear, “When they deserve it. Yes.”
She shivered at the response. “Do you hit hard?” She asked meekly.
“Sometimes.” And he chuckled into her hair.
Then, finally, “Will you ever spank me?” Her voice was barely above a whisper.
He reached over and took the brush from her hand and set it back on the nightstand. Then he pulled her back and moved on top of her to look down into her eyes. “Yes.” He said matter-of-factly. “I imagine that you can be naughty enough on occasion to merit a thrashing from me.”
She giggled as he covered her mouth with his and wondered what she’d have to do to earn his wrath.
