More than friends

Looking back at the date, he couldn't see what he'd done wrong. As far as he could tell, she had been into him all evening. If they had stayed ten more minutes they would have closed down the restaurant.
   Alice had insisted that they walk down the warf for a while so that they could talk some more. It was a warm evening and she had even held his hand while they walked back to his truck.
    But that wasn't what had his heart pounding in his chest. The kiss. He had finally worked up the courage to kiss her. Being a fisherman and kind of a big guy, he'd always been a little afraid of coming across as being aggressive or using his strength and accidentally hurting someone.
    Not wanting to hurt her, he'd cupped her cheek gently and kissed the other side of her face. Pulling away afterward was gut wrenching. When she grabbed his face with both hands, he'd panicked at first, but her touch was intoxicating.
   Within seconds, they were moving against each other. Their hands and bodies moving by instinct. He wanted her so much, and now, finally, it seemed like she wanted him back.
   With her legs around his waist, he pushed her gently as he could against the door frame as she moaned softly into his mouth. It would have been impossible, at this point, for her not to know how aroused he was. That she had moaned, told him as much. Ben fumbled for the door handle until his sex addled brain figured out that they were leaning against it.
   Reluctantly letting her go, she kissed him again and openned the door. Before he realized what was happening, she had pushed him gently outside, thanked him for dinner and apologized about having to get up early. She also had looked like she had wanted to cry.
   He actually wanted to cry too, but for probably very different reasons. His erection pressed painfully hard against the fabric of his pants. He sat behind the wheel of his truck and hit the steering wheel repeatedly as hard as he could.
    What the hell had he done wrong? It was like high school all over again. Except then he'd been a football player and hadn't learned the virtues of playing it slow. Or, of preventing blue balls.
   With a heavy hearted sigh, he drove home to deal with the situation at hand. But he wasn't really mad. He just hoped that he hadn't somehow screwed it up with Alice.