The Blind Date (Patreon)

Valentina didn’t mind that she had arrived at the restaurant first – it meant that she got to pick where she and Max would be sitting. The setting sun was bathing the city streets in orange light, and a warm, tender breeze was blowing in from the East, cooling everything off ever so slightly from the sizzling heat of the dying day.

It felt wonderful outside, so Valentina had made sure to get a table on the patio, where she could enjoy the breeze and watch the people pass by on the sidewalk. She loved living and working in the city; there was never a dull moment, and as someone who had a lot of drive and energy, Valentina felt perfectly at home amid the hustle and bustle of her job as an investment banker at Coleman & Fink, one of the most high-powered banks in the country. Only 27 years old, Valentina had landed the competitive job straight out of college, and had spent the last 5 years steadily rising through the ranks of the company. She was already an associate now, making over $200,000 a year, and on track to become one of the firm’s youngest-ever vice presidents within the next few years. On top of this professional success, Valentina enjoyed a vibrant social life, and was especially happy to have made a close friend, Nancy (a fellow associate at work), with whom she could talk about anything and everything. In almost every sense, Valentina was “winning at life.”

The only downside was in the relationship department. Despite a steady series of efforts over the past few years, Valentina hadn’t been able to remain in anything approaching a stable relationship. It wasn’t like she wasn’t going on dates – on the contrary, at this point, she felt like she was going on new dates every week, but nothing appeared to be sticking. She had tried to explain away the reasons to Nancy, who was always eager to ask how the dates went: the guy was too full of himself; they didn’t have a good connection; their interests weren’t aligned; he talked too much about politics; he wasn’t nice to the waiter…and on and on and on.

These things might have all been true with many of the men, but there were a good handful who didn’t have any of these problems. If Valentina was being honest, there had been at least 4 or 5 guys who, if they had pursued her, she would have been happy to date. The problem inevitably always boiled down to one thing:

“It’s your height, right?” Nancy would ask, her shoulders sagging empathetically for her friend. “He just couldn’t handle it, could he?”

Valentina was 6’3. She had been this tall ever since she was 16, and it had proven to be one of the most challenging aspects of her life, at least romantically speaking. She had briefly dated a 6’5 guy in college, but they weren’t anything alike, and the relationship fizzled out in a few months. She had had plenty of one-night-stands, and had recently fallen into the habit of inviting men over to her swanky condo using online hook-up apps. Sex in all varieties could easily be found…or, at least, in almost all varieties. What Valentina craved was intimacy and tenderness, and the prospect of building something long-term with a sweet, kind, caring man who could handle the fact that she was so tall. Up until this point, based on how shorter men had been tongue-tied around her, she assumed that this man would have to be at least as tall, if not taller, than she was. After all, how could she be intimate with a man who couldn’t be confident around her?

“Look, Val,” Nancy had said yesterday, leaning into Valentina’s desk, “You need to quit hooking up with randos on Tinder and go on an actual date.”

“But I do go on actual dates!” Valentina had whined, swiveling in her chair. “Like…every week, almost!”

“Oh I’m sorry,” Nancy replied immediately, not giving her best friend any room to escape, “I should’ve been more specific – you need to go on an actual date with someone who hasn’t been filtered through the ten layers of OKCupid that you’ve set up for yourself. 6’10, engineer, strong silent type, 300K+, admirable sense of humor, puppy-rescuer…”

“Okay, okay, I get your point,” Valentina laughed, rolling her eyes. “But it’s not really like that…you’re exaggerating.”

“I might be exaggerating a little,” Nancy maintained, straightening up, “But you know what I’m saying is true.”

“But how else am I supposed to find someone?” Valentina sighed. “Every guy I meet in a club or bar is either an insufferable jackass if he’s taller than me, and…”

“If he’s shorter…?” asked Nancy, arching her eyebrow.

“Then he runs away from me,” finished Valentina sadly.

“Well listen, how about this,” Nancy proposed, a strange light coming into her eyes, “I’ve got a friend who just moved in-town. His name is Max…a real cutie, inside and out. I’m gonna set you two up.”

“Whoa hold up there,” Valentina cut in, leaning forward in her chair and putting her hands up. “I’ve gotta know something about him first.”

“Nope,” declared Nancy, shaking her head back and forth. “You get nothing. No stats, no info, no nothing…only the knowledge that I think he’s sweet and cute. Isn’t that enough for you?”

Valentina looked up at her friend. At 5’2, Nancy was a shrimp compared to her, but what Nancy lacked in size she made up for in panache. It was impossible for Valentina not to smile a few seconds later.

“Well…okayyyy, fine,” she chuckled, “Go ahead and set us up. What do I have to lose, right?” She paused, watching Nancy whip out her phone and text Max right away, before adding, “Can you at least tell me how tall he is?”

Nancy didn’t look up from her phone; she just shook her head slowly back and forth, smirking at her screen.

That had been two days before. Now, as Nancy sat at the patio table, waiting for Max to show up, she couldn’t help but wonder what Nancy’s sly grin entailed. Was Max super-tall, and Nancy didn’t want her to get too excited? Or…was he, like, super-short, and didn’t want her to refuse the date outright?

‘Knowing Nancy, he’s probably neither,” Valentine thought to herself, her head turned towards the street as she watched all the people walk by. “This is just her way of making the point that I need to quit trying to box myself into these “guy stats.” She’s right…but damn it she’s annoying, heh…oh well…if she thinks Max is sweet, then the least I can do is –”

“Valentina?”

A small yet clear-ringing male voice made her head snap around. Sitting across from her was a man – a very cute, well-dressed man – with bright blue eyes and a shy, awkward smile. She was taken aback; most people would have said something while they were still standing up, and then she would have stood up and they would have shaken hands or hugged or whatever…but this guy…Max…he had just slid right into the chair across from her. It was strange behavior, but perhaps even a little adorable, considering how nervous he looked. And small. He looked small…very small. Valentina felt her heart sink a little – was this Nancy’s idea of a joke!? And yet, she couldn’t really lean too hard into that negative mindset. He just looked too…precious.

“That’s me!” she smiled brightly, extending her hands across the table. “And you must be Max, yes?”

“Uh-huh, yep,” he nodded, quickly reaching out across to shake her hand. Valentina couldn’t avoid noticing how her hand seemed to swallow his…but unlike many other guys, Max had a good, firm handshake…and his hand, while small, felt nice and warm.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” he added quickly, his bright blue eyes darting quickly down to the table and then back up to hers. “I just…Nancy told me what you looked like and I saw you sitting there and I just knew it was you, so I just thought I’d go ahead and…you know, just slide in.”

“Haha well no problem,” Valentina laughed, feeling oddly excited all of a sudden. Something about the way Max talked made her feel at ease. He was obviously nervous, but it wasn’t painful or awkward. It was just cute.

“So Nancy told you what I looked like,” she continued, sitting up straight as she looked down at Max from across the table, “But she didn’t tell me what you looked like.”

She watched Max’s expression falter a little, facilitating between a smile and a grimace. Even with them both sitting down, she could tell that she was easily a few inches taller…but how much taller would she be when they both stood up? True to form, she had worn her 4-inch heels, having decided beforehand not to skimp on looking fancy.

“Oh yeah…Nancy,” Max chuckled, blinking rapidly as he adjusted himself in his chair. “She can be kinda frolicsome…I mean, she has an impish side to her, you know? A sprightliness.”

“I do know, yes!” laughed Valentina, nodding. It was so interesting – normally, when guys used “bigger” words around her, they were obviously just trying to impress her with their intellect. But the way that Max had rattled them off, it was clear that this was just the way he talked.

“You’ve got an impressive vocabulary,” Valentina remarked, putting her forearms on the table and leaning in on her hands towards him. “Were you an English major or something?”

“Still am,” Max replied, almost sheepishly, batting those blue eyes up at her. “I’m writing my dissertation right now.”

“Oh wow!” Valentina exclaimed. “What on?”

“Uh…heh, the, um…the enduring trope of songbirds in the poetry of John Keats,” Max answered, grinning again almost apologetically, like he was admitting to having stayed out too late to a concerned mother, “And how they ultimately signify his desire to transcend the mundane physicality of human experience and, so to speak, spread his poetic wings as he soars toward beauty, which for him was…uhhh…was the same thing as truth itself.”

Max had faltered slightly at the end of his explanation because Valentina had put her hand over her mouth to stifle an open-mouthed, delighted grin. She had never met anyone quite like this before. Max was obviously a huge nerd – self-conscious and awkward in the midst of his highly-advanced explanations – and yet, at the same time, he seemed to possess a kind of humorous, self-deprecating awareness, like he was acknowledging that he was a bit ridiculous, but that he ultimately owned the absurdity and didn’t really care. The fact that he had this nerdy yet charming confidence, despite being so obviously small in stature, deepened Valentina’s interest.

“Wow!” she intoned, her eyebrows going up as she leaned in closer towards him, her chin on her hands, “That sounds soooo cool, Max, even if it’s way over my head! I may know all about market making and…and equity securities, haha…but ask me to analyze a poem, and I’m totally lost.”

“Poetry is beautiful,” he replied, his big eyes looking up at her (they were such a gorgeous blue, Valentina kept thinking!). “It can feel really intimidating at first, but once you train yourself to forget about analyzing it and just allow yourself to…uhm…to just float in it, you’ll find yourself drifting to places that you didn’t even know existed before.”

Valentina stared at him. It was rare that she was ever struck speechless, and even rarer that this speechlessness arose from something positive, and yet, here she was now, gaping down at this little dude, with no idea how to respond to what he had just said. And it wasn’t just what he had said…it was how he had said it. There was a straightforward genuineness to everything Max said, a strange kind of unapologetic vulnerability in the midst of his self-deprecating humor, that truly made her backpedal. But it wasn’t a bad feeling at all – it made her feel even more intrigued. With so many previous dates, Valentina had found herself preoccupied with what sex might look like with this person, and how intimate contact would be initiated, and so on and so forth…so much stressful uncertainty. But she wasn’t thinking about any of that at all right now. She just knew, if they got to that point, how it would go down – she would be the one to initiate the intimacy, and lead it. And she was shocked to discover that she didn’t mind the thought one bit.

“What’s some of your favorite poetry?” she asked, blinking down at him, feeling a sudden desire to hold him and cuddle him in her arms. “By your guy…Keats?”

Max shifted in his chair, glancing sideways before grinning up at her. “It’s…I mean, right here? It’s kinda embarrassing…”

“No, no it’s not!” she declared, shaking her head back and forth. She was feeling something new inside, a fresh kind of energy that was directed down at this little man. For the first time, Valentina was actually comfortable – even enthusiastic – about sliding into a new kind of social role on this date. It was clear to her that she was far more comfortable in social situations, and had a good deal more “social confidence” than Max…at a party, she would appear less awkward and less nerdy, and she would have a much easier time seeming “normal” than him. But none of this made her feel discouraged or judgmental towards him in the least. On the contrary, it made her feel a tender kind of protectiveness towards him, and the fact that he was obviously a short, small guy made his whole presentation, his whole persona, that much more adorable. Valentina almost had to laugh at the intensity of her reaction to him – they had only just met!

“You don’t have to feel embarrassed around me, Max,” she breathed down at him tenderly, feeling a warm, liquid sense of soft domination dripping through her words as she spoke them. “I think it’s wonderful how much you love poetry…go on, I want to hear some lines. I know you’ve got plenty memorized…don’t even try to pretend otherwise.”

Max blinked up at her and the corners of his mouth twitched upwards into a little grin.

“Heh…uh, w-well…okay,” he smiled, straightening himself up in his seat as much as he could before clearing his throat. “Um…so this…I really like this little bit. It’s from his “Ode to a Nightingale,” and it…well, this isn’t the beginning of the poem, but this part really just…gets me…”

He took a deep breath, and Valentina watched him, fascinated, and projecting nothing but warm energy upon him as he began, his voice shaking slightly with nerves, but clear and ringing regardless:

“Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird!
No hungry generations tread thee down;
The voice I hear this passing night was heard
In ancient days by emperor and clown:
Perhaps the self-same song that found a path
Through the sad heart of Ruth, when, sick for home,
She stood in tears amid the alien corn;
The same that oft-times hath
Charm'd magic casements, opening on the foam
Of perilous seas, in faery lands forlorn.”

He finished, almost out of breath, his face blushing a deep red, and stared down at the table, blinking a few times before casting a searching glance up at Valentina. She tilted her head, blinking her eyes lusciously down at him, giving him her approval in every aspect of her body language.

“Max,” she murmured softly, “That was beautiful.”

“So…umm…?” came a third voice, and they both looked up at the smiling waiter standing beside their table. “I take it you all need a few moments to look over the menu?”

Valentina laughed, looking down at Max (who seemed to follow her social lead, still in the midst of recovering from his vulnerable recitation, and managed an awkward half-smile himself).

“Yeah,” she chuckled, “That’d be great, thank you.”

An hour later, after a delicious dinner and much pleasant conversation, Valentina had paid for the meal (per her insistence…she had felt good doing it too), and the two of them stood up to leave. At that point, both of them had been seated the whole time, and neither had seen the other one standing. Valentina knew that she was going to be a good deal taller than Max, but as they both rose to their feet, the true size difference became clear. On top of being a skinny little thing, Max was so short that the top of his head only came up to the middle of her breasts…he was staring slightly UP at them. But far from reacting with a shocked, wide-eyed expression, Valentina felt her eyes close halfway, pursing her lips as a voluptuous, sensual energy took hold of her. She had already been planning on inviting Max back to her place. But now…well…he was coming, one way or the other.

“Oh! Uhh…I…I…” Max stammered, obviously quite surprised himself to be staring up at the large breasts of his 6’7 date. But Valentina didn’t sense that his reaction was negative, per se – it wasn’t like those other guys who were insecure around her because she made them feel small. No…it was obvious to her, from all their conversation, that Max actually liked feeling small, that he liked the thought of being dominated. His social cues, his expressions, his demeanor…all of it screamed “gentle sub” to Valentina. She was all here for it, and she knew exactly what to do.

Reaching out her big hand, not caring at all who saw them, she gently palmed Max’s head, softly but firmly pressing down on his hair as she put her other hand on her hip, striking a confident, dominant pose.

“It’s okay, Max,” she breathed down at him. “You don’t need to worry about a thing.”

She arched her neck slightly as she looked down at him, feeling the dominant sensuality building up in her loins as her fingers moved lightly in his hair.

“I like you, Max,” she declared simply, her eyes fixed down on his. “Do you like me?”

He nodded.

“Do you want to go back to my place?” she asked, almost purring.

He nodded again.

“Good,” she smirked, “Because I know we’ve only known each other for an hour, but you’ve already taught me so much…about all kinds of stuff…including about myself.”

“R-Really?” asked Max.

“Really,” declared Valentina, before leaning, pulling his head in close toward the warmth of her breasts. She almost shivered with the pleasure of anticipating what she was going to do to this boy.

“So I think it’s only fitting…that I teach you a thing or two…back at my place.”