Dinner Date

I would like to take you to dinner, somewhere quiet, dark and candlelit. Talk you into wearing a black slinky number, one that shows your neck and wonderful shoulders and beautiful legs. I will even put on a shirt and tie so we look like belong in the place…

It’s raining outside which is great because it cools everything off and you can see the steam rising from the streets as we park the car and head for dinner.

We start with drinks while we look over the menu. A couple of drinks and I cannot keep my hands off of you. I reach across the table and rub the back of my fore and middle fingers across your cheek, taking in the way you feel. I reach up and play with the lobe of your ear, rolling your earring between my thumb and fore finger. You kind of laugh and smile with your eyes, and I smile at you, knowing that the night is young.

The appetizers come and we order wine and begin to flirt with each other like kids. We take turns feeding each other the humus on toasted pita points that you ordered, and as I am about to feed you the last bite, you jump suddenly as you feel my foot, which I’ve slipped out of my wingtips. My unshod foot has moved to brushing the outside of your crossed legs, below the knee.

As the waiter clears the remains of the first bottle of wine and the appetizers, I have to excuse myself to the men’s room, not really to use the restroom, but to be able to come back from the restroom and kiss your neck and ear from behind. I sit back down and our eyes meet and the conversation starts up again.

We have a white wine delivered again just before our salads arrive. I reach over to hold your hand and you reciprocate by reaching to me. We hold hands while the waiter pours. He starts with a splash in my glass for me to taste, I try to reach for the glass but you won’t let go and you smile at the new little game you’ve just started. I play along and try the wine, bringing my glass to my lips with the other hand. I approve and let the waiter continue. As he finishes up, his assistant brings us our salads. We toast to the night to come and drink lightly as we both recognize that we are in for a wonderful night.

I keep your attention through the salad by asking what you would like to do for the rest of the evening. Your eyes dance, as you describe what you want to do for the evening, until the waiter comes to clear our plates.

I’ve placed my foot back onto your leg only now instead of being on the outside of your leg, I move to the inside of your leg and move my toes up to the inside of your thigh. You look up at me from the napkin you were playing with, and simply smile as I wink at you. I lean forward and ask you to come forward by signaling with my index finger. You lean forward and your eyes light up as you nod at what I’ve said and excuse yourself to the ladies room.

You come back with a cat that ate the mouse grin and discreetly hand me the black G-string you were wearing. You laugh as I bite my lip and roll my eyes in delight. As you return to your seat, our waiter comes with our dinner.

Our conversation through dinner is innocent intentionally as neither of us want to push too far, we like the idea of skirting the issue of an entire night by ourselves. Through dinner I move my foot closer and closer to you, using my toes to touch you lightly, just enough to get your attention.

After dinner is cleared we decide to share a raspberry sorbet and take turns feeding each other and, accidentally of course, missing a couple times. By the time dessert is finished, my sock and you are both torridly wet.

We finish dessert and before we get our check, I talk you into leaving your g-string with the tip. You kind of giggle but go along with it and we decide we need to leave.

I smile and throw you a curve ball by demanding that we go to the bar for cognac and a cigar. You object and fight it a little at first, but then you realize how exciting it would be for you to have the waiter see you again after you have left him his tip. We sip our cognac and puff our stogies, while we relax in the lounge waiting for our waiter to pass through, just to see his face.

Finally, defeated by the man in the tuxedo shirt and cummerbund, we decide to leave and head for the elevator. I am walking behind you and just as we enter the foyer, our waiter walks through. You lean to him and whisper a very sultry goodnight dear, in his ear, all while I’m watching. You then smile and wait for me to meet you as our red faced waiter makes his way back into the dining room. We step onto the elevator and once the doors close burst into laughter, which I end by kissing for what seems like an hour. We make out like kids, groping and kissing, until you push the button for the next to last floor on the way down, and we make our way to the stairwell. The walk down the hallway we try to be as proper as can be until we realize we are alone and you start to run to the stairwell making me chase behind you.

We almost undress each other there in the stairwell, when I finally decide to stop you and lead you down the stairs to the exit.

Finally, as we make our way out of the building I surprise you with a covered horse drawn carriage for a private ride through the city. As I help you into the white carriage, you look back at me, sit down, pull up that slinky black dress, and invite me in with one hand, while you very playfully bite the forefinger on your other hand. As the driver readies the horses and we begin moving, the rhythmic clip clop of the horses serves as a metronome for us, and we start one long evening...