I’ve met you once before, and I thought you were nice. So I friend you on Facebook and flirt with you a bit. We are both going to a cabaret night in a week’s time, so we agree to see each other there. You message me your mobile number.

On the night before the party I’m thinking about you. I like the way you’ve been flirting with me. You seem to enjoy the anticipation as much as I do. An idea starts to form. I grab my mobile and send you a short text:

I have a proposal for tomorrow. Would you like to here it?

A few moments later my phone chimes. You reply with a single word – Yes. So I write:

I don’t want us to talk to each other until we kiss. And I don’t want us to kiss until 10pm. Til then I want us to look at each other longingly whenever we see each other. Keep eye contact for as long as possible. Gaze.

Moments later my phone chimes again. One word again. Yes.

The night is busier than I expect, and at first I don’t see you. I scan the room, wanting to find you, wondering if something’s happened and you didn’t make it. Wanting you.

Then I see you. You look beautiful in your short velvet dress, steep platforms and OTT doll make-up. As soon as you notice me you turn your attention my way, and our eyes lock for what seems like an eternity. That first time in particular, we just gaze and gaze – wondering what might be possible when we get closer. Wondering, but not wanting to find out yet. Content just with the anticipation. With the gaze.

After a while you get up. I let you go and I rejoin the party. Having shared this moment with you I know I can relax and let things happen naturally. It’s only 8.32, there’s plenty of time before 10.

A bit later I see a guy come and chat you up. I position myself so you can see me behind him, so it looks like you’re still focussing on him. I meet your gaze again and we start connecting. It feels wonderful, deliciously naughty, a little cheeky at the expense of the friendly chap who’s blathering away in front of you.

A smile plays across your lips as you listen to him but look at me. I can feel myself getting hard just looking at you, and I let my eyes pass up and down to take in your hot, petite body in the short dress. I re-meet your gaze and after a moment you do the same – check me out slowly, top to bottom. I feel like a piece of meat and I like it. My cock gets a little harder.

At 10pm the DJ plays Boys Don’t Cry. It’s a request: I’m not really sure why but it feels right. I see her sitting alone and our eyes meet again. This time instead of gazing I beckon to her to come towards me, and she does. Our eyes stay locked as she comes to me, stopping a little distance away. We look at each other again, feeling our bodies connecting across the gap, enjoying this final moment of anticipation before the inevitable.

I walk towards her slowly. As I get close she puts her arms around my waist and presses herself against me firmly. We rub bodies for a little while, lips close together, the first kiss only seconds away. I feel heat rising throughout my body as our mouths meet, her beautiful full lips pressing against mine hungrily. I feel her tongue dart into my mouth and I get a little harder, as we lock in for the first of many kisses that night.

We kiss and kiss. We’ve agreed that’s all we’ll do the first time. The kiss is like a whirlwind, making us both horny, making us both high. By the time the night ends my balls are aching with desire. I want to fuck you more than I’ve ever wanted anyone. I think about asking you to let me follow you, to take you in the street. But I think that’s another story, for another night. After the last kiss I leave you, saying “see you next time” and slipping back into the crowds on the dancefloor. I say a few quick goodbyes and then leave. I don’t want to talk yet, not too much. I want this first kiss to last a bit longer.

London Faerie