My my what an elation.

They met over drinks in the dying days of a cold February night.

He was fashionably late as usual. It was customary. His motto was never to be the individual waiting. A cavalier attitude indeed.

As he approach the bar door he could see her from within.

Not bad he thought, not bad at all.

She had long lovely auburn hair, hazel eyes and a slim figure. Also, it helped she had some style and didn't look like she just woke up from a nap or got her clothes from the Gap.

"This better not be awkward as shit, he said to himself."

He sat down and she smiled sweetly. "Nice" her teeth were in impeccable shape, he thought.

She had been downing a rum and coke by the looks of it during the fifteen minute wait.

The tattooed bartender came over, asked him what he wanted. He asked for a pitcher of Steam Whistle. How many glasses she asked? Two he said. He thought what kind of asinine question is that? Two people equals two glasses. They didn't sit at a table that sat more than two people! So why expect anything, but two glasses?

He told her she looked ravishing in her hipster getup. She smiled and laughed at this comment.

The discussion was your typical, how was your day, small talk. Even with such general of a chat, he remained interested in what she had to say.

They began to discuss music and this is when he got a music boner. She liked some relatively superb artists. On top of the fact she enjoyed going to concerts. Both of them listed off the shows they had been to over the past year.

The bartender finally brought back the pitcher of beer and two glasses.

Alcohol his extra liquid confidence, splendid!

She asked him some questions. He began to tell his standard story about meeting the highest lama and interviewing the last great war veteran in all of North America. It kept her interest surprising. No wandering eyes, was a good indication.

The conversation flowed smoothly and the inebriation surprisingly wasn't needed.

They decided to go for a smoke. He only socially smoked. Plus it reminded him of the movie: Spy Game. Always carry a pack of cigarettes, it's a good conversation starter. However, she gave him one of her du Mauriers. She lit her's with a lighter while moving in his personal space by lighting his with her's. That's a good sign he thought, meow.

He mentioned this better not kill his falsetto and nobody better roofie their drinks. More laughter ensued from her.

'Twas not an annoying laugh either. He didn't want to put a belt around his neck like Michael Hutchence, when he heard it.

They headed back into the bar. He ordered a glass of water on as they ordered another pitcher of beer. One doesn't want to drink and drive he said to the bartender. "I just don't like running down people and killing." This drew laughter from the her and the bartender.

The laughter and chatter continued until the bar was closing up. He offered to walk her home as she lived nearby.

This time is the worst for hangouts or dates. You have decide if you were indeed picking up good vibrations or not. The douche move is asking to kiss the girl. Thank god he has never gone down that road. He heard horror stories from his female friends about people asking to kiss her.

Another cigarette for the road as they walked. Again she came in to light his fire.

It was decided he wasn't going to wait for the door. As he took a drag, he then took the cigarette to his side. That's when he went in for a subtle kiss. It was well received. Tongue and lower lip biting were exchanged, mutually.

They continued the walk. She was walking a lot closer to him now.

As they reached her door he went in for his final bow of the night. An intense make out session ensued. He told her he had an all right night and perhaps we shall do it again. She smiled while twirling her hair.

That's when he heard something unexpected. "Do you want to come in?" she said.

Meow pussycat he said in his head.

"I don't mind if I do, mademoiselle," he said.

She lead the way to her room. He was expecting velociraptors from different directions, on the journey to her bed.

When she opened the door, she turned around and kissed him some more. He undid jeans as they fell to the ground. Then he picked her up. Her legs coiled around his waist, the intense tongue tossing continued.

Instead of placing her down on the bed, he went for her dresser. Stuff clanged and clattered as room was made for her to sit.

His left hand began finding its way to her knickers. He slowly moved his way up to her ear, biting the lobe gently and using his tongue on the inside. The moaning from her intensified.

He worked his way slowly down her neck, biting and kissing. Leaving his mark as well.

Returning once more to kiss her honey lips.

Then he slowly unbuttoned her shirt and undid her bra. Surprisingly, it wasn't that complicated and there was no need for Avril Lavigne to start singing her poppy song, on "Why does it have to be so complicated?"

She had a nice A cup. Size didn't matter to him. As he loved all shapes and sizes. Breast play was his forte.

Slowly, he did his magic as he kissed, licked, sucked both sets of her breasts. The moaning from her seemed to intensify. Likely do to the rhythm his left hand had been laying down in her knickers.

It was his full intent to tease her.

He pulled his hand out of commission. Then licked his way down her chest towards her navel. Finally, he reached her promised land. Then with both hands he took off her striped panties as she brought her legs together.

She pulled him up and took off his shirt as she began to make out with him with a new intensity.

He thought of Canada's Wonderland and the sign leading into White Water Canyon, "On this ride, you will get wet."

Again he teased his way with his tongue down to her pussy.

He began rubbing her now with his right hand, slowly bringing his lips and tongue to her cunt. Before pulling back.

She moaned and tried pulling his head in to start her launch sequence.

However, he decided to spread her legs more. Then began licking and kissing from her inner left heel all the way up to her thighs. During this process two of his right fingers found their way inside of her as he repeated this process on her left leg. He repeated this process then on her right left, but with his left fingers being inside of her.

The build up to the crescendo he thought. I want to give her something intense.

He went in with his mouth and tongue to commence her countdown sequence. Surprisingly, he didn't have to say Houston we have a problem. She tasted mighty fine, as his tongue and lips went to town.

He could tell his magic was working. Her legs slowly began to close in on his head and she pushed his face in, while running her fingers through his hair with some intensive moaning, followed by a couple of oh fucks.

Finally, the static radio message was transmitted in his head: "Roger Houston, we have lift off."