Beth took a deep breath and held her head high. Parked in the restaurant parking lot, she still didn't see Arthur's car. She couldn't be sure if he arrived before her, but six o'clock loomed ahead, and she didn't want to be late. Beth had left work early to give herself time to prepare. She checked her face and makeup in the mirror for the third time. Not that there was much point. This wasn't a date. Not exactly.
She left the car and walked into the restaurant in small, tentative steps. The hostess met her with a bright, practiced smile and the faint mark of confusion that always accompanied a party of one to an upscale restaurant.
Beth brushed at her skirt, smoothing it and making herself more presentable. Her new dress bore a neckline more daring than her typical fare. The scooped neck framed the girls in their pushup bra, enhancing her large breasts for reasons she couldn't explain. They formed two plump mounds of soft tissue with traceable light blue veins stretching through them, her deep valley of cleavage on display. Her sister sometimes complimented her on her breasts. She knew they were her sexiest features. Her skirt was a fresh experience, though. Short for her, the hemline settled two inches above her knee. A slit in the side of the overlapping fabric sliced to the top of her left thigh, a daring proposition.
"Can I get you a seat at the bar?" The hostess asked.
"Oh, no. I'm uh... I'm here to meet someone. Arthur Clarke? Do you know if he's here?" Beth asked.
The hostess checked her screen and shook her head. "I see a dinner reservation for two under that name, but he hasn't arrived yet. Would you like me to show you to your table?"
Beth glanced behind her at the doors, then sighed. "Sure."
"Follow me!" The hostess' chipper demeanor didn't flag at Beth's unsteady answer. She smiled the entire way to the table, and Beth followed.
The restaurant appeared nicer than Beth expected. Its name, Frenchy's, didn't suggest an upscale atmosphere. Yet, judging by the dim candle-lit atmosphere, this wasn't the place one came for French fries unless they sat beside a seventy-five dollar steak.
The tables were primarily two-seaters. Each sat far enough away from the others, with dividers giving diners their privacy.
The hostess took Beth past a few sections to a four-person booth in the corner. She took her seat to face the direction they'd come from.
The hostess told her someone would be by shortly, and she'd see Arthur to the booth when he arrived.
Beth thanked her and then sat alone with her thoughts. She stared at the menu, not taking in any of the cursive print on the starch white cardstock in the black leather booklet the hostess left for her.
Her weekend had not gone as well as Beth had hoped. The last week had been a whirlwind, ever since her sister's bachelorette party, now more than a week ago. The handsome, sexy young man who worked for her at the University turned out to be the well-endowed, sexy young stripper her aunt hired. Beth hadn't realized it until her tongue was scraping tequila off his rock-hard abs, and he looked down at her. His sparkling eyes mocked her as his handsome face broke into a grin. She licked her lips at the memory, mortifying herself further as shame heated her face.
That was the beginning of her end. When they'd finally discussed it, Beth was so horny and wound up that she practically shoved Arthur into one of her masturbation fantasies. He became her dark villain, coercing her to do those detestable sexual acts her conscience would never allow. She took the things he said and twisted them until she began undressing in her office before Arthur stopped her. He stopped her. A man stopped a woman from offering her body to him. When he realized what she implied, he rejected her, which stung. She lashed out, but he stopped her, and they brokered an uneasy peace.
Then she caught Mindy skirt-up and panties-down over his desk. Arthur spanked her while everyone else took lunch. The sight had sparked a wildfire of emotion in Beth. Fresh anger at the rejection burned her heart, envy roasted her, and lust consumed her until she tried to flood the wildfire away with the moisture between her legs.
Arthur caught Beth watching, and fantasy swept Beth away again. She lost herself, forgetting what was real or fantasy, and joined Arthur and Mindy at Arthur's command. He stepped into the role she cast him in and played her villain to a perfect T. His voice had been as strong as his grip. She'd followed him to a mind-blowing orgasm, even if he never put his thick cock into her virgin pussy like she wanted.
Beth might have been okay if those were her only indiscretions. Not knowing he was the stripper and projecting/mistaking his intentions were simple misunderstandings. But once she'd joined them and spanked Mindy, she'd crossed the line. She might have taken it back, but when given the chance, she crossed it again at the next opportunity. Now she was well and truly fucked.
Not literally. Not counting her fingers, toys, and Arthur's fingers, she was still a virgin. An older virgin, having turned thirty. She didn't enjoy contemplating that or the age gap between her and twenty-two-year-old Arthur. With a birthday at the start of the school year, he was older than most college seniors but hardly a peer. Though he acted mature and handled himself well, dominating and leading without effort.
He'd taken her in hand Friday, and she'd loved it. The way his arm flexed as he fingered her made her wet and spiked her desire. She had never experienced simultaneous fear, shame, joy, and lust until Arthur made her count the number of times his palm struck her ass cheeks. Until she saw the flame of passion burning in his eyes as he watched her jiggling flesh. For once, Beth felt empowered by her body rather than ashamed of it. Just remembering it, she was overheating, so she did her best to stop.
Saturday had been a pitcher of ice water on any hot thoughts, anyway. Arthur had not one but five girlfriends. Mindy, obviously, then the others, Kelly, Kat, Rani, and Selene, whom she'd seen on Saturday. Seeing him outside the office, with her drunk sister ogling him, her aunt trying to recruit him, and surrounded by younger, sexier women, Beth realized how foolish she'd been. She'd known he had five girlfriends, but knowing and seeing were two different things.
They were stunners, too. The man didn't have a type other than young, hot, and down to fuck. She didn't blame him for that, but realizing she didn't fit that mold still stung. Any fantasies she entertained about joining them or Arthur choosing her over them fled her at the sight of the bevy of college beauties.
Beth spent Saturday night and Sunday trying to forget Arthur as she nursed her sister Krissy back to health. Passing her back to her fiance would have been a better choice, but he threw his bachelor party that weekend, which Krissy seized as her excuse to get drunk. God, she was such a lightweight and insatiably horny for Arthur, who she only knew as the stripper from her party.
Krissy had begged Beth to track him down on campus, not for Beth's benefit, but so that Krissy could have 'one last hurrah' before she got married. Beth refused. She didn't want her sister to cheat on her fiance and throw her future happiness away, even if the man was a small-dicked, unimaginative lover. Her sister needed stronger boundaries.
Seeing Arthur at the office today had been a reminder of everything, and their quick discussion this morning before work was enough to confirm their plans for tonight. Other than that, Beth avoided him and Mindy by eating lunch in her car.
Beth checked her phone. No messages. Plenty of signal. Ten minutes to six.
"Hi! My name's Darla, and I'll be your server this evening. May I get you something to drink while you review the menu?" The waitress startled Beth by her sudden appearance beside her. Her eyes had been straining to see through the obscured dining area for Arthur's approach.
"Oh! Uh..." Beth searched the menu for its selection of drinks. "Water, and uh... what's your strongest cocktail?"
"Our strongest cocktail would have to be the Aunt Roberta." Darla answered. "It's-"
"Perfect. I'll take that." Beth said, almost frantic.
"Okay." Darla said, drawing out the O. "Nervous for your date tonight?"
Beth looked alarmed, turning toward the server. Darla was a pudgy-faced Caucasian woman with dark black hair in a bob that scooped the bottom of her face. She'd tucked the white collar shirt she wore into a long black skirt, which a black apron covered. The pen in her left finished scribbling on the pad in her right, and she put it in her apron pocket.
"A little." Beth admitted, swallowing. "Is it that obvious?"
"Honey, you've got nothing to worry about. You look amazing." Darla assured her. "Blind date?"
"No." Beth said. "Not a date, either. Just dinner."
"Gotcha." Darla said. "Well, I'll be right back with your drink, and I'll bring extra water for your not-technically-your-date dinner partner."
Beth smiled at the awkward joke, too nervous to laugh.
Darla retreated, stopping at another table on her journey to the bar.
Beth read the menu, and her eyes flared. Well, shit. This would be an expensive dinner.
"Hey, there you are." Arthur said, startling Beth with his and the hostess' sudden arrival.
"Shit!" Beth said, slamming the menu on the table.
The hostess looked alarmed. Arthur looked surprised but amused. He wore a suit she'd seen before but he looked good in it. Not the same one he'd worn to the office. He'd undone the top button, flaring the collar open at the top. The deep purple shirt spread beneath the open charcoal suit jacket and tucked into a pair of charcoal slacks. Her large eyes lingered above his belt, remembering the sculpted abdomen beneath.
"Are you okay?" Arthur asked, taking his seat in the booth across from her. The fixation of her attention disappeared below the table's horizon.
"Yeah, sorry." Beth apologized to Arthur and the hostess.
"Not a problem." The hostess said, restraining laughter as she placed Arthur's menu on the table. "Your server should be by soon." She said and left them.
"Have you been waiting long?" Arthur asked. "I thought I was early."
Beth's phone said he still had five minutes, but she shook her head either way. "No, I just put in my drink order."
Arthur nodded and checked the menu. If the prices listed there surprised him, he didn't mention it. Then again, he'd recommended this place. He must have known the prices. Beth wished she'd Googled first to know how many dollar signs the populace attached to the restaurant. That was the real mark anyone cared about. Michelin stars? The average diner knew it was impressive but assumed it was purchasable. The accurate indicator of whether she would dine somewhere was how much they expected for their food. She wouldn't have come if she knew how much this breakup dinner would cost.
Not that they were breaking up. Technically, they weren't dating. Yet Beth came here steeled to do the right and mature thing. What had happened twice now couldn't happen again. They made those fond memories, but they had to stop and not go further. No matter what, they couldn't flirt, and they certainly shouldn't fuck.
She looked up at his face to see him lift his eyes from his menu, meet her gaze, and smile.
Fuck.
That wasn't the gaze of an employee at their boss. He looked at her like she was a woman. She felt not only seen but desired. The heat in her chest spread.
"How was your weekend?" Arthur asked. "Krissy looked like she had a good time at homecoming."
Beth frowned. "She paid for it later. I'm sorry about her."
Arthur waved away the apology. "Why? Were you her bartender?"
Beth laughed, then blanched as she realized her laugh was too strong, too high, and girlish. She pressed her lips together and lifted the menu, trying to hide behind it.
Arthur didn't draw any attention to it. He looked up as their server arrived with two glasses of water and smiled to greet her. Beth watched him as he turned his face, the firm line of his jaw shifting as he said: "Thank you." When the server placed a glass of water before him.
"Hi! My name's Darla, and I'll be your server this evening. Can I get you anything else to drink?"
"Just water for me, thanks. Though that looks good." Arthur said, eyeing the wide chalice Darla placed before Beth. The dark amber liquid in its center looked mysterious, swirling with cloudy liquor and dark as obsidian glass at its edges.
"The Aunt Roberta." Darla said, gesturing to the glass. "Would you like one?"
Arthur held up his hand to reject the offer. "No, thanks."
