The Third Date 01: Clueless of Cotham - Sex Stories

The Third Date 01: Clueless of Cotham

... disaster with any credit to their name was Kate. She'd been so calm and collected, cooly ushering JT out the door, despite his size. She was so nice. If only I could have a date that was as easy to talk to as she was.

Kate

"Priya," I called out.

I was just coming back from evening swim training at the Union when I saw her coming out of Sainsbury's.

"Oh hi Kate!" The way she said my name sent a little thrill through me. This was dangerous.

"Nice to see you," I replied, trying to hide my enthusiasm.

"You too! Thanks again for last night... and the one before."

"You're welcome. One more to go huh?" I added with a grin.

"Don't remind me!" she groaned, "Listen... what are you doing tomorrow night?"

"Nothing, why?" This sounded promising!

"My friend Nadine is playing at the Academy down in town and she asked me to put you on the guestlist. Would you like to come?"

"Yes, sure, that sounds lovely... Hang on, wait, why does she want to put me on the guest list?"

"Well..." she paused as she moved aside to let somebody pass. We were kind of blocking the pavement. "Listen, which way are you headed?"

"I live up the Hill," I pointed up past the Lounge.

"Oh, perfect, well, look, if you aren't in a rush, do you want to come round? My house is just there. It's hard to explain, but it would be easier to play it to you."

"Play it to me? Ok, now I'm intrigued! Lead on!" This sounded really promising!

"Great!"

Turned out she only lived 5 ...

... minutes away. It excited me to think I might be making a new friend who lived and worked nearby.

Her infamous flatmates weren't home and she gave me a quick tour of downstairs.

"Do you need to put anything in the fridge or freezer? Would you like something to drink?"

She played hostess for a minute, making us both a ginger tea, then asked me to make myself comfortable in the living room.

"Ok, so my friend Nadine is this brilliant singer-songwriter, and I often record cello and harmonies for her," she began, "and the other night, after we met, I was improvising on the cello and..." She was gazing at me intensely and I was feeling a little hot under the collar. Her eyes were so deep and warm.

"Sorry, I think it'll make more sense if I just play it to you..." she pulled out her mobile and did something, then music started coming out of the stereo.

Priya

I sat down in the arm chair to the side of the sofa. I didn't want to stare at her, but was incredibly conscious of her reaction, and kept glancing her way. I really hoped she'd like it. She started leaning forwards, elbows on her knees, cupping her mug in both hands. As the first chorus hit, her eyes closed. Her right hand began to move as the refrain came in with the verse, and she cocked her head, a smile creeping over her face. As the song progressed, I found myself biting my lip; she seemed to be enjoying it, but her verdict really mattered to me, which was odd. She was a stranger, somebody I'd meant twice, ...