A/N: It’s delightful to see y’all lap up my eroticas (my other works as well). Honestly, I never saw myself writin such risque stuff. I get flustered myself when I read all the sex scenes I never knew I was capable o’ writin😁 I’m just a fanfic/sci-fi/romance writer, for chrissakes! 😅 Oh, boy…I’ve gone to a dark, dark place, haven’t I? 😘🌑 Anyway, ere’s to BenTina’s (yeah, that’s not a good ship name, is it?) first awkward meetin 🍻
“This isn’t gonna work. I’m gonna look like a complete fool in front of this complete stranger, Trish. I know, I am…!” Tina complained as she slipped into the flowy, yellow dress that was a tad too big for her. “Oi, quit flippin about like you’re some kinda fish or somethin! Get it together! It’s only your first date. Besides, you asked to be set up with someone. You can’t back out now.” her friend/ match maker/ roommate (in that dingy room above a nearby whore house) reminded, altering the dress to fit her petite frame. “Well, that was only cuz I was lonesome. Dontcha feel that this profession…it buggers any chance ya have at a social or even a love life, Trish?” she continued to complain. “I never cared much for it, ya know? Don’t really give it much thought when you’re sandwiched between two…sometimes, five…men, ya know? Oh, well, as long as we’re paid good money for doin what we do, it don’t matter, do it?” Trish explained her uncaring attitude for it. “Matters to me. I know Joy-boy’d never go for it. What, with all the strict rules on no dating, no marital/ extramarital relationships for all employees of Madame Erotica’s, eh?” her lonely friend worried about her pimp Joy boy finding out. “He don’t have to know bout this, Tina. Now, stay still or I’m gonna end up stickin a pin in ya literally!” Trish put her worries to a rest, before scolding her into stillness as she put the final touches. “Why’d his friend insist on me wearin yellow, by the way?” Tina asked, curiously. “Said it’d help him recognize ya, I guess. It’s also his favorite colour, apparently.” Trish replied, putting away her sewing kit (mostly reserved for stitching up wounds when a fellow working lady was manhandled or rough-housed by a client) while Tina twirled around in front of the lipstick-stained mirror. “Who’d like this colour? It’s the colour of piss, innit?” her potty mouth Londoner exclaimed with a frown. “Tina, try not to talk like that in front of him, please.” Trish warned, on hearing her comment.
“Ugh…bollocks! This was a bad idea…! Shouldn’t have sprayed it in my mouth…ugh! Tastes so bad!” the man who swallowed cum for a living sputtered, as he threw away the half empty can that’d made him gag, before washing out his mouth at the sink and preferring to pop a handful of mints to freshen his breath instead. He wanted to look his best as always, experimenting with hairstyles from a pomade to a just outta bed look, before settling for his usual ruffled hairstyle: au naturel Ben, he christened it narcissistically. Dressing up for the date took longer than his usual routine of dolling up for work (and that involved putting on wigs, pulling on tight skirts, garter belts that left their red mark on the soft skin around his crotch, G-strings that were just as restraining, riding up his crotch and fishnet stockings, packing all his skin pores and freckles in makeup as thick as pancake batter and whatnot!) and he turned up late. Fortunately, so did she!
He hoped she liked her men hairless. Apart from his unruly mop, he’d waxed off every bit of hair from his body for the sake of the job. Maybe, just maybe… clean shaven could be the new sexy! he wondered jokingly, resuming to drum his fingers impatiently on the table while the waiter poured him some more of the fancy wine. His tastebuds were more accustomed to beer and he intended on rinsing his mouth with a pint at the bar next door if his date still didn’t show up. He felt the need for it melt away and his heart skipped a beat on seeing her familiar face at the restaurant window. He’d recognize those lips anywhere even if they weren’t painted bright red (she’d opted for a pastel shade to match with the dress) or that face even if it was partially covered by her side swept hair like it was earlier that evening. He flashed her a smile and waved at her. But, she didn’t wave back.
“I do look like a complete fool in this! I should’ve known…! I hate this soddin dress! I should just turn back……oh, no! Too late! He’s wavin at me now! He’s too cute…no, too cute! Bollocks, outta my reach, he is! It’s so bloomin unfair! I’m definitely turnin back….Yup. That’s what I’ll do…just head on home.” she declared after a few too many looks at her reflection in the glass, deciding the man on the other side of it with his chocolatey, amber eyes and a face to kill for was too good for her!
“Oi! Where’re ya goin?! Are ya leavin?!” he lost no time in catching up to her on seeing her leave from inside the posh restaurant, running all the way from it with his blazer flapping behind him. “Oh, curses…! He’s Scottish too?!” she muttered, cursing her stars as he barred her way. “D’you not like the place? We could go somewhere else, lass.” he suggested, his smile melting away on seeing her uncomfortable expression. “The name’s Tina…An’ I should’ve known you’d be too good for me. You’re a perfect ten…Flawless…!” she began to praise, at the same time pitying herself. “Ya haven’t seen my appendicitis scar obviously, Tina! I’m Ben, by the way. I believe we’ve met earlier?” he introduced himself, cutting in and breaking into a friendly grin to relax her on detecting her self-consciousness. He decided to remind her of their earlier meeting too. “Um…really? I don’t think we’ve….oops!” she began to reply, scrunching her face up to think as they walked together, losing her train of thought as she suddenly tumbled to the curb!
“Ya ok?” he asked, helping her up. “I might’ve had just a trifle…a smidgeon…of vodka to sooth the nerves before this date. I’m beginning to regret it now!” she confessed amidst nervous laughter. She wobbled uneasily as she stood and went red with embarrassment. “Fine. Maybe it wasn’t a scooch or a trifle or a smidgen, really! I’ll just go home an’ sleep it off. Just live a few streets that way. Thanks for comin, by the way. An’ again, I’m sorry. You’re just waaay outta my league…It wouldn’t work!” she muttered apologetically, deciding to take her leave before she embarrassed herself further. “Well, that sounds like absolute rubbish, in my opinion! But not as rubbish as what I’m gonna do for ya now…” he added, following her and keeping her company. “What’re ya…? Oi, put me down!” she was taken aback as he slipped an arm under her knees and one to support her back as he scooped her into his arms.
It would’ve looked better on a Hallmark card or on the cover of some romance novel, but on a crowded street in London, it looked awkward. He thought it’d thaw the ice between them though- An icebreaker of sorts. “Ya can hardly walk an’ it’s unsafe.” the concerned man whispered as she wrapped her arms around his neck, held on and stared hard at him. “On second thought, I’ve never been carried home on the first date, by a proper gentleman too!” she whispered back, warming up to the idea and breaking into a smile of acknowledgement as he carried her the rest of the way.
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