Third Date

"I was really glad you called," said Wendy and took a sip of white wine. Mmm... Cool, fruity; just the thing for a hot August night. "It's been ages since I had an honest to God third date!"

"Tell me about it." Greg sat back in his chair, fingering his napkin. "Second dates are a rare breed but third ones?" He sighed. "It's hard enough putting yourself out there. Most people bail out with the slightest hint of incompatibility."

"I know! I hate that. Everything is going so well, you're getting to know each other and bam! The guy gets cold feet." She discretely adjusted her garter belt; first impressions were very important and Wendy had a rule: anything goes on a third date. She leaned forward and dipped her fork into the last of her chocolate soufflé. She could feel Greg's eyes on her as she slowly inserted the last piece in her mouth and felt her taste buds explode in pleasure. She pulled the fork provocatively out of her mouth, let it slide through her lips. Her mouth said what every body movement was screaming: "I'm ready. Let's go."

Greg fumbled for his wallet. Wendy had already gotten up and was walking to the door. ‘What a woman,’ he thought as he watched her from behind, her figure hugging red dress curving in all the right places. And she could walk on high heels; few women could these days. He caught up to her in the parking lot.

"You want to take the car or should we walk?" he inquired nervously.

"Car. I really can't wait."

‘What a woman,’ his mind repeated.

He held the door for her as she got in. She couldn't believe her luck. Cute, smart, great kisser and a gentleman. How could he still be single? Greg was thinking along the same lines, although his thoughts at the moment were being drawn inexorably to the physical attributes of his date.

He had already learned the way to her house and was taking her there when she told him to make a right turn. He followed her instructions obediently as she dictated several turns and was surprised to find that when she told him to stop, it was at a small, poorly lit park.

"Here?" He felt uncertain now. This was unfamiliar territory.

"What, you've never done it in public?" she purred. Her eyes had a predatory gleam that hadn’t been there before.

"Well, it's a little exposed here..." he started but she stopped him with a long, wet kiss.

"I know you want it. I can feel it, I can smell it on you." As if to prove her point, she leaned close and took a long sniff of his neck. His jaw muscles clenched and then he loosened up completely. He was hot and there was no stopping him now. He pulled her close to him and returned her kiss. "Alright," he said. "Let's do it."

They heard a rustling from outside. A man was making his way through the park, busy in a cell phone conversation. They looked at each other. Greg pulled out his knife, Wendy her scalpel. He got out of the car first and surveyed the area. Not a single soul in sight. He walked around and opened the door for her. Her heart skipped a little beat. ‘Men like this don’t come along often. Hold on to him, girl!’

She walked over to the man and asked him for the time. When he bent to look at his watch, Greg, who'd snuck around behind him hit him on the head. Watching his graceful movement gave Wendy another thrill. As she helped him carry the body behind a bush, she realized that she was undeniably falling in love with him and hoped with an intensity she hadn’t felt since her first high school crush that he felt the same way. When they were safely hidden behind the bush, they stared at each other awkwardly.

"So, ladies first?" he asked.