The Third Date 01: Clueless of Cotham - Sex Stories

The Third Date 01: Clueless of Cotham

... remember you. I mean I was watching you," I gulped, "sorry, that sounds creepy!" I blushed.

She smiled and looked down momentarily, allowing me to recover. "Anyway, I haven't really noticed you before."

"I only work Tuesday and Thursday evenings, and the occasional cover shift. This isn't my main job."

"Oh, what do you do?" I asked, nacho midway to my mouth.

"I'm curing cancer," she replied.

The next minute was pretty embarrassing, as I tried to first spit out my nacho, then not do that, then try to avoid choking on it. She was quickly out of her seat, first thumping me on the back, then gently rubbing me there as I rather ungracefully ended up spitting out some half chewed nacho into a paper napkin she proffered me. Eyes watering, I took a sip of wine.

"Well, that's a new reaction!" she laughed as she sat back down.

"Sorry, I'm mortified, can we pretend that never happened please!?"

"Sure thing. I'll get the boss to wipe the security cameras later."

"What!?"

"Just kidding! Er.... you've got a little something..." she pointed to my face.

"What?"

"Some cream cheese just..."

I dabbed at my face with a paper napkin. "Did I get it?"

"No, up a bit..."

"Now?"

"No, here let me..." She lent over and gently brushed my upper cheekbone by my right ear with her napkin. I caught a waft of vanilla as I shivered a little and her touch raised goosebumps down my arms.

My phone buzzed.

Shaking myself, I glanced down.

Sry traffic ...

... still 10 mins

"Is your date here?" she asked, leaning back, and glancing around. There was suddenly an odd tension in the air.

"No," then, realising I'd mostly been talking about myself, I smiled across at her. "So, you were telling me how you were curing cancer."

"Oh, it's not that exciting."

Turns out she was a total brainiac. She'd not long finished her PhD, and had secured a postdoc fellowship here in Bristol researching the impact of varying chemical concentrations on melanoma cells. She managed to explain it to me, without being patronising, which made a very refreshing change from all the mansplaining I was used to from my Uni boyfriend (he'd been a Physicist). She only worked in the bar to have people to talk to.

"I love the Science, but I work on my own: the co-authors of the paper I'm writing are in different time zones, so I can go days without speaking to people, just taking data from a hundred pipettes and petri dishes. It gets quite dull. I didn't study in Bristol, so working here was a way to get to know people and make friends. Now, I just do it for fun."

"Where did you go?"

"Cambridge, Newnham."

"Wow, so you're super smart!"

She blushed, which I found myself liking. I appreciated that she was a bit humble. "Not going to pretend I don't have game in the brain department. Anyway, so I work here because I get to talk to people," she continued, giving me an odd look.

"Well, you smash the Science geek stereotype out of the water," I ...