50 Sexcapades [Erotica Compilation] novel Chapter 25

It all started with an app. Mindlessly scrolling through profiles at 2 am in the morning, had become an unfortunately common activity. I finally stopped at a promising one after a slew of disappointments.

He seemed cute and smart, having briefly discussed his positions as a software programmer, attorney, and musician. His pictures were harmless and fun; He wasn't super hot but he wasn't ugly. He was cute in a nerdy, understated way; Was an alumnus from the college I currently attended, and was 10 years my senior.

I checked his pictures once again and decided to give him a right swipe. We didn't match at first and a bitterness washed over for me for just a moment, as I carried on swiping past the plethora of frat boys and possibly steroid-riddled men.

My eyes grew fatigued and I nearly called it quits for the night when my phone buzzed. I had a new match: him.

I decided against the standard operation of waiting for him to say "hi" in however many days and went for the kill. It was 2 am and we were on Tinder, giving me reason enough to say whatever I wanted.

I sent him a silly giphy of a waving cartoon.

He replied with one back and my cheeks warmed subconsciously. A conversation began and soon, we were chatting it up from our own private little hubs of darkness.

I found myself coming back to his profile over the next few days, although we had graduated from in-app messaging to actual texting. I liked looking at his pictures, carefully at each one as if searching for things I may have missed.

He wanted to meet up. This made me excited but also hesitant. I'd only gone on one Tinder date before, with a Harvard physics student for ice cream floats and nothing ended up happening. What if he's a creep, or really short, or doesn't show up?

I convinced myself that loads of people meet up with their Tinder matches and that nothing could possibly go that wrong. We were after all both in New York City. The summer days were long, hot, and liberating and I was at the age when casual dating was normal and completely acceptable.

So I agreed.

He wanted to meet for drinks at a bar after he reassured me they wouldn't card me. This dilemma made me nervous. I'd never gone into a bar and what if I ended up getting carded and embarrassed in front of everyone?

I made an excuse for not being available at that time. "Let's meet around lunchtime," I asked. Surprisingly he agreed despite the last-minute switch up and offered a cute, local coffee shop around the area.

The sun was sweltering and I sighed with relief as the air conditioner greeted me upon arrival. I stared around me at the decadent treats in the pristine, white café and ordered a chai latte with a packet of stevia. I chatted with the counter girls as I stirred my drink, looking over my shoulder every few seconds waiting for him.

I sat in the window and slowly sipped the sweet concoction, staring at my phone waiting for him to message an apology that he got caught up in work or something.

He bustled in through the door and we recognized each other instantly. We exchanged hello's and a weird little half hug and I stood next to him while he ordered an iced coffee, with the ice in a separate cup. I smiled and remarked how wet he looked. He was nearly the same height as me and had damp, dark slightly curly hair. It was a bit off-putting to see a sweaty man, but it also made me think of him running here from wherever he came from to see me.

He was slightly better looking than his pictures and had these remarkable green and blue swirly irises that I hadn't recognized in his photos. I noticed his demeanor was curt with the counter girl and a bit snappy for my taste. Still, I found him appealing and couldn't help but look at him.

"I know a small garden around the corner," he said and we went off into the burning hot New York day. We spoke cordially as we walked there, though he had a fast stride and was several steps ahead of me as we walked. I even struggled to keep up with him as we turned corners and crossed streets, all while trying to maintain our conversation.

"Listen to the studio version now," he said, grabbing his remote and clicking a file on his tv. More at ease, I crawled up next to him on the bed and laid on my side, listening to the same song. It was no better, arguably even worse. I smiled again and told him I got Beatles vibes from it. He seemed pleased with the compliment and played some more music from an app he had programmed, influenced by Spotify.

He had put his hand in mine as we listened and I enjoyed the delicate touch. I knew what was coming next and only a few minutes passed when he leaned into me, kissing me sweetly on the lips. His hair, which had dried temporarily was damp again, making me laugh.

The kiss rapidly intensified, as if my lips were pure alcohol and every touch intoxicated him further. He kissed me with the fervor of a starved animal and our tongues fought for dominance. I didn't like tongue kissing, never had, and probably never will. But something about the way he gripped onto me and dug his hands into my hair and all over my body made me feel emblazoned and needed.

Confidently, he kissed along my neck and smoothed his hands firmly along my back and around the curve of my hips. He gripped my face and smothered me with desire, grinding into me as his body heated up. Chills shook him as he touched me all over and pulled the front of my blouse down, gripping my breasts and sucking the smooth skin. It felt good and I held the back of his neck as he moved rhythmically against my body like he was physically attached to me.

He slipped a finger into my panties and rubbed me there before finally entering me. I moaned at the feeling, moving my hips in sync with his fingers. I straddled him and he removed his shirt, revealing a tuft of chest hair. I held his face and brought our lips together. He guided my hand to his bulging crotch and gasped as I touched and squeezed him there.

He sat back on his pillow and looked up at me. "You are gorgeous," he remarked, giving me that intense stare of his. Our faces collided again and I ran my hands up his arms, rubbing myself against his crotch, wanting more.

"You can hold me down and tie me up" he whispered, flashing a devious grin.

"Do you have a rope?" I asked. He responded with a nod and I slid off him temporarily as he went to retrieve it...

To be continued...