Part of the attraction to Quint was because he was younger and was one of the only men in forever who actually viewed Jen as a sexual being and not just an intellectual with whom they would eventually have sex if they dated long enough. It was so flattering to feel desired. That in and of itself made her horny.
The date couldn’t have been scripted any better. The evening started with a few martinis. Dinner was filled with lively conversation, wonderful cabernet, and perfectly cooked steak. The conversation initially ranged from politics to culture to wine. Once the second bottle of cabernet arrived, the conversation turned to sex. It was inevitable — the combination of a lot of wine and intense physical chemistry made it so. Jen wanted to sleep with Quint and hoped that when the timing was right, it would come up gracefully. She didn’t want him to use a bunch of cheesy lines that probably worked once at a fraternity party.
“So…what do you want to do after dinner?” Quint asked.
So far, so good, she thought. “Have a night cap,” Jen said, laying almost all of her cards on the table. Come on, take the bait.
“We can go to my place,” Quint offered. “My roommate won’t be home until the bars close.”
Jen knew she wanted to sleep with Quint, but she didn’t want to wake up to his roommate eating Cap’n Crunch and playing Nintendo as she prepared for the “walk of shame” was not a good option. Masturbating would be less fun, but also less embarrassing. “I have some great port at my place and you’re looking at the only roommate,” Jen said, reaching across the table and placing her hand on his.
Quint got it. “Check please!”
Once they got to Quint’s car, but before he opened her door, he grabbed her and went for it. The kiss was long, lingering, and perfect. At each stoplight on the way to Jen’s, there was more making out and some groping. Quint was already hard, and Jen was about to explode. They barely made it past the front door before Jen’s dress was on its way to the floor.
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