The Blind Date

The moment I laid eyes on her, I thought to myself, "This blind date is going to be a fucking disaster."

Not that she wasn't hot. On the contrary, this gal had a beautiful face, dark wide set eyes, full lips. Long auburn hair. And curves in all the right places. I mean, she was built. And she was beautiful-- drop-dead gorgeous.

Problem was, even in flat shoes, this woman stood a good three inches taller than me; and I'm not Shorty. She stood a solid six foot, and very athletic from the look of her. I wouldn't be surprised to learn she played basketball in college. What in the world did my friends have in mind, setting me up for a date with this she-monster? Undeniably centerfold material, but still, a she-monster!

"Hi," she said, "my name's Amanda!"

Before I could even react, Amanda seized my hand and was pumping it. "Uh, I'm Jim... pleased to meet you..." I was trying to gather my wits. It's not every day that I realize, in mid-handshake with a woman, one, that she's completely swallowing my hand up inside her hand; and two, that her grip is even firmer than mine.

As soon as I could afterwards, I managed to steal a glance at Amanda's hands. Like the rest of her, they were beautiful, but three sizes too large. Amanda had big, long, smooth, exquisitely shaped hands. The back of her hand was smooth and soft. Her nails were fairly short but neatly tended, with clear polish. Womanly hands, the hands of a hand model; but strong, athletic hands. And like I say, large hands-- Amanda's hands were much larger than mine.

Okay, after the initial shock, the date actually went along fairly well, until we were seated in a booth at the steakhouse, and about to order. The waitress was standing there, and I was about to order the 12-ounce sirloin. Indeed I started to say, "I'll have--"

That's as much as I managed to get out: "I'll have--" Because all of a sudden, Amanda reached across the table and pressed the palm of her left hand firmly over my mouth. That's right, she silenced me with her hand, and instantly she started giving the waitress her order instead.

And Amanda kept her large hand pressed hard over my lips, thumb downward, until she was finished ordering. I mean, she kept her hand over my mouth for a good 10 or 15 seconds. Only after Amanda had placed her order did she take her hand away from my mouth. By this time the waitress was glancing at my face in ill-concealed wonderment. What was my date doing, keeping her hand over my mouth for so long?

After the waitress left, Amanda glanced at me mischievously, as if trying to gauge my reaction to what she had just done to me. But she didn't say anything about it, and the rest of the meal passed without incident. I even found myself enjoying Amanda's company, and it was clear she enjoyed my company too.

Plus, I won't deny, she was one hot chick... if only you could overlook the fact that she was three sizes too large.

In short, we were clicking. I wouldn'ta believed it, but we were clicking.

Next weird incident arose when the waitress delivered the bill. Gentleman that I am, I assumed I was going to pick it up, and somehow Amanda was going, "Oh, no, no..." And before I could get out a word in response, she reached across the table and pressed her right hand over my mouth to shut me up.

There we sat together in the booth, which was high enough that we were pretty well concealed. My date, the hot Amanda, had her hand pressed firmly over my mouth, thumb down. She was wagging the forefinger of her other hand at me: "Now Jim, you listen to me..."

I tried to say something, but all that came out from beneath Amanda's gagging hand was a muffled "Mmmmmmmmmmmmmh..."

At this, Amanda looked stern: "No, you listen. Nobody can see us here in this booth, and I can keep you silenced until you give in and agree with me. Got it?"

"Mmmmmmmm, mmmmmmmmmmmh..."

Amanda just kept her hand over my mouth, and watched me across the table with the air of a woman who knows that she has the upper hand. Quite literally, the upper hand.

This little duel of the wills kept on for I'd say a good two minutes. A good two minutes that Amanda sat there in the booth with me, reaching across the table and keeping her hand firmly in place over my mouth.

I will pass over the denouement of that little incident in silence, because after that everything went normally again until we found ourselves seated side by side in the darkness of the movie theater. There I sat, and Amanda was sitting in the seat to my left. I don't even recall the flick, it didn't have enough chase scenes and explosions to suit me, but it wasn't so much of a chick flick that I couldn't bear to sit through it.

At any rate, the way things turned out, I ended up not paying that much attention to the movie anyhow. Just after the last preview, and just as the movie was starting, I made some diddly remark. Or rather, I started making some diddly remark: "Do you think that--mmmmmmmmmmmh!"

I got out exactly four syllables when suddenly I realized that a large, warm, strong but silky hand was clamped very firmly over my mouth. It took a few seconds before I realized what had happened: there in the dark of the theater, Amanda had reached back around my head and clamped her right hand over my mouth.

"Mmmmmm, mmmmmh mmmmmmmmmmh..." The hand stayed firmly in place over my mouth, as Amanda leaned over and whispered in my ear: "When I watch a movie, I watch a movie. Now, if I take my hand away, will you keep quiet?"

I didn't react. Amanda whispered, "Okay, I'm going to take my hand away, and I'll expect you to stay quiet. No talking during the movie! Last warning!"

Amanda removed her hand from my mouth. The opening credits were still playing. I remembered my lesson for maybe a minute or two, until I noticed that the lead actor up on the screen had also appeared in...

Call it a brain fart, call it a Freudian slip. I forgot Amanda's warning, and started to ask her, "Isn't he the--"

That's all the further I got. Then I couldn't say anything more, because all of a sudden, I found the palm of Amanda's big, strong right hand clamped back over my mouth, tight. Yes, Amanda was sitting there to the left of me in the dark, and she had her large, smooth, strong hand clamped tight over my mouth, her thumb up along the side of my nose. I tried to open my mouth, but I couldn't: my lips were clamped hard in the palm of Amanda's unyielding hand.

I went, "Mmmmmmmmmmmmhh!" Amanda didn't let go. Again I went, "Mmmmmmmh, mmmmmmmmmmh!" Amanda leaned over and whispered in my ear, "No, you had your last chance. Now just keep quiet! I want to watch the movie."

"Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmh--" At this, Amanda pressed her thumb down tight over the bridge of my nose. I couldn't breathe any more. After five or ten seconds she lifted her thumb, so I could breathe through my nostrils again; but she kept her large, strong young woman's hand fastened very, very firmly over my mouth.

I sat there in the dark of the movie theater. Amanda was holding my mouth so tight, she was squeezing my cheeks in on either side of my face. At the same time, she had the palm of her hand pressing so hard over my lips, that I could feel the insides of my lips being forced right back into my front teeth. She was keeping her hand in a tight grip over my mouth, so tight that I was barely able to move my jaw.

And I found that every breath I drew through my nostrils, in and out, in and out, was filtered through the overpowering scent of bath salts. Amanda must use milk bath salts. Ordinarily it was a scent I liked, a scent even that turned me on. But now, with this woman's hand kept clamped over my mouth, I had no choice but to inhale the strong scent of bath salts with every breath I drew in.

This kept up, and Amanda kept holding my mouth, for several minutes. I was beginning to wonder when she was going to let me go. How much longer could she keep her hand over my mouth like this?

Finally I went, "Mmmmmmmmh, mmmmm mmmm mmmmmmmmmmhh!" Once again, Amanda retaliated by pressing her thumb down across the bridge of my nose, so I couldn't breathe at all. And it was a good ten seconds before her thumb let up so I could breathe again.

And then... Amanda just kept on holding my mouth. Tight. She kept her warm hand clamped over my mouth, there in the dark. Was this gal ever going to let go of my mouth, or what? Surely this was going too far, just because I tried to say something a couple of times at the beginning of the movie...

What kind of a blind date was this turning out to be, anyway? What kind of a date is it where a gal just sits there with her hand kept tight over your mouth, minute after minute after minute after minute?

Fifteen or twenty minutes went by, my mouth sealed shut in the palm of Amanda's now-sweaty hand, my jaw squeezed tight in her unrelenting grip, my every breath filled with the cloying odor of bath salts... Yes, Amanda had been holding my mouth now for fifteen or twenty minutes straight... Suddenly, I noticed out of the corner of my eye that someone was making their way sideways toward us, in the row of seats right in front of us. As the figure came closer in the dark, I could see that it was a young gal, looked like maybe a college girl. As she got in front of us, she paused for a moment and stared with a puzzled look straight at my face.

This college girl was staring straight at my face, and at how Amanda had her hand fastened right over my mouth and lower face.

Several minutes later, this same gal returned, and passed right in front of us again. This time she stopped and stared longer, at how Amanda was still holding my mouth. And this time the college girl was so bold as to ask Amanda in a loud whisper: "Why are you keeping your hand over his mouth like that?"

Amanda whispered to the girl, "Because I wanted to listen to the movie, and he wouldn't shut up. You know how it is with guys sometimes, they just won't shut up?"

The college girl nodded knowingly. "Oh, so you're holding his mouth then to keep him shut up!"

Amanda said, "Yep, and I'm going to keep on holding his mouth shut for the rest of the movie!"

For the rest of the movie??! I went, "Mmmmmmmmmmh!"

At this, Amanda and the other gal giggled in unison, as if the two of them, as women, were in on a joke together, and I wasn't. The college girl raised her hand and gave Amanda the "OK" gesture, and then continued on back to her seat.

As for me, I sat there in the dark beside Amanda, with Amanda's big, warm, strong hand still clamped tight over my mouth. So she was going to keep her hand over my mouth for the rest of the movie...

And indeed she did. We're talking about a movie that ran to over two hours. Yes, Amanda kept her hand fastened in place over my mouth for more than two hours straight. She didn't take her hand away from my mouth until the closing credits were scrolling up the screen, and the lights came on.

Then she let go of my mouth at long last, and wiped her sweaty hand off on my pants leg. MY pants leg! She looked at me again with that same mischievous grin I'd seen in the steakhouse: "So, how did THAT suit you?"

I didn't quite get what she meant by "THAT." We stood up out of our seats, and Amanda loomed a good three inches taller than me. She repeated herself: "I said, how did you LIKE having my hand over your mouth all through the entire movie?"

I mumbled something.

Amanda said, "You know, I can do that to you any time I want."

"Oh..."

Amanda leaned over toward me, with a good-natured but conspiratorial expression: "Don't make me do it to you again, mister. Because you know I will."

I replied, "Is that a threat, or a promise?"

We both laughed. Yes, we both laughed, because we both KNEW.

Amanda looked right in my eyes, with that girly-puckish expression: "You know, if you keep sassing me, next time I could keep holding your mouth shut all evening long..."

So. Friday evening the hot Amanda and I have got another date. Yeah, she's taller than me. And yeah, she's so athletic that it's slightly terrifying. But we clicked real well, and I like her, and I gather that she likes me.

Plus, Amanda very obviously has a "thing" about using her hands to silence the male of the species: not every day, I'd wager, that she meets a man who's willing to tolerate her, uh, specialized urges.

And as for me, I can just see Friday night: "MMMMMMMMMMMMMPHH!!!"

I can't wait! Like that line in the first Rocky movie goes, "She's got gaps, I've got gaps, together we fill gaps."