HIM
"Le Mouton, seven sharp, Suit and tie required..." Ms Martin didn't bat an eye using her American Express Black card for the five thousand plus bill on her 2017 red Ferrari Portofino convertible. Set of tires and an oil change, twenty thousand mile service. I'm the assistant manager of the service department, I've been servicing her car since new. Ordering me to meet her at one of the most expensive and trendy restaurants in town.
Dark almost burgundy hair in a tight bun, piercing blue eyes, tall as I am in her high heels. Navy blue pin stripe suit, long legs covered in the below the knee pencil skirt. One of my most demanding customers waiting patiently working on her computer in the customer lounge. As gorgeous as her car...Only time I have seen her smile is when she starts her turbo V8.
***
Once or twice a year she brings her Ferrari into service for the last seven years, always wants to wait. Partner at a big law firm. Way out of my league, very nervous about crossing over the line from a customer to dinner at a fancy restaurant, why me? Always look her in the eye with the utmost respect, meet her demands with the most integrity I can muster. Here I am, she told me to take an uber. Her car is parked next to the valet stand.
Maitre-de's fake smile vanished when I told him who I was meeting. "This way sir.." The opulence is intimidating, winding past the tables with the A-list cocktail dresses, gentleman who could surely afford any car at the dealership. Leading me to a private booth in the corner, I can feel the scorn at my three hundred dollar suit.
Furtive glances when Ms Martin slides from the booth and stands at my arrival. Breath taking one shoulder black dress with the long leg displayed in the slit almost to her hip, her drive me hard turbo V8 smile makes me dizzy.
Follow her delicate hand as she displays herself wanting me to look, soft moan when I kissed the back of her hand. Her perfume, her hips, luscious breasts swaying, manicured red nails in her toeless strap heels. "Damn you shaved." Giggled as the maitre-de popped the cork on the champagne.
"Relax, my friends call me Stella." Sitting and sliding around the half round booth making room for me. Patting the seat next to her can't help looking at her legs exposed from the long dress, "Glad you looked," Her other hand was teasing the lace cutout between her very substantial breasts, perfectly grape fruit size, "Makes me feel like a woman."
"Stella," I took a sip of the champagne, "Are you trying to get a discount or something?" Gulped the rest of it, get it while I can. Service is amazing our waitress appeared out of nowhere filling my flute.
"That's the rudest thing you have ever said to me!" Her pouty lips made my dick jump, tongue action on the rim of her champagne flute gave my cock a serious jolt. "Have you ever called me a flying bitch behind my back?" Before I could think of an answer two plates of escargot were set on the table, delicious bubbly refilled again.
"Use the little fork above the plate." Condescending bitch was back with a smile. All this silverware placed precisely, "Ummm.." her lips and tongue wrapped the tender morsel. Full blown hard-on is in a serious painful bind. "Garlic and butter lets it slide all the way down my throat..." Sneakingly tried adjusting my dick putting my napkin in my lap.
"Now we're getting somewhere." I was busted, her nipples jumping didn't help. Slimy dripping little things were tasty, "Wipe your chin.." oh so motherly, she wasn't looking at my face.
"Why me?" Couldn't help myself chuckling, she retracted her hand that was close to feeling the growing lump hidden by the linen napkin.
"Because I've been trying to rattle you for years!" Turbo smile was gracing her face, "You've been the most polite, patient man." Leaned in closer, "And handsome!" Another appetizer with some cheese was delivered, "I even thought you were gay!" Waitress giggled overhearing the conversation.
Dropped my napkin on the floor, "Nope!" Our server got a good look at the bulge in my pants.
"Oh Sir! Let me take care of that!" Server blushing profusely, fanning herself made Stella laugh out loud. She has a beautiful laugh.
"Now you're making me laugh!" I wanted to keep Stella laughing. All through the next four or five courses of our meal she peppered me with questions about my life. Told her I got lucky getting the lot boy job when I was young. Then the master mechanic took me under his arm, he liked my jokes.
Moved thru several positions ending up as assistant service manger. Only employer I have ever had. Stella wanted to know about my old girlfriends, my divorce when my high school sweetheart started getting crazy. So easy to talk to her, she learned all about my sexual history. "It's been a year!" She was happy that I had only a few short relationships over the years. We shared a dessert, some flaming cherry confection, our first kiss.
Best cup of coffee I have ever had, dinner tab cleared with a wave of her hand, they know her very well. Both of us sober and she is ready for a drive. "Does it bother you that I am seven years older than you?" Makes her thirty four years old compared to my twenty seven, I know the math doesn't work, she told me thirty three, her birthday is in two weeks. She has done very well for herself, law school, earning a partnership in her firm, a career that takes a lifetime for some.
"You're riding, where do you live?" One more test, I know most of her requirements have been met, she told me so. Stella knows how to drive well going in the opposite direction from my home. Curvy road ending at an overlook, a lovers lane.
Kisses so sweet, deep and passionate over the center console, a barrier between our lust. Breasts firm with a slight droop, ticklish at the overlap gives her the shivers. Large puffy aureoles with nuggets begging to be pinched. She placed my hand on her panty covered vulva, delicate lace and satin soaked. Glow of the dashboard lights sparkle in her eyes. "Let me see it..." Not satisfied stroking my love stick hidden under my slacks.
"It's beautiful..it's perfect.." Lips inches away craning over the center console, long curled hair shielding my view of her smile. Caress her side bosom, rising my hips for her need, tap, tap tap, the flashlight is blinding...
"Yes officer.." Her laughter is contagious, even he is laughing, "I'll put the top up next time officer.." covering her one exposed boob. Me finding my zipper and top button. The stars, the moon and the city lights. Drive to my house was sublime with the wind in our hair, rising tone of the turbo V8, our future in the balance.
On my heels at the doorstep, reminds me of high school when my sweetheart promised her love when her parents opened the door. Burble of her car idling in the driveway, removed and pushed her panties to my nose, "Think of me..start thinking of our second date..something sexy and classy..this isn't over.."
HER
"Ciao!" They know him at this small Italian bistro, "You bring a woman! Testa Rossa!" Classic chef with a white apron, spilled marinara sauce here and there.
"Mama Mia!" Sophia Loren look-a-like smashing her big boobs hugging him, "You no like our cookin' any more?" Pinching his cheek, "Been a while, Heh?"
Dress casual he said, I had to buy some denim jeans, haven't worn them since college. Old red satin button down blouse leaving the tails out, "Bellamisimo!" Love the way the material glides over my nipples making them stand out, I'm about to be mauled in the old Italian tradition.
"This is Stella.." Veal parmesan, chianti, I was part of the family. Not his real family, close friends from many years back. Sophia, yes her real name, was our server, bus boys were fighting over who got to take the dishes away.
Sophia hugged me whispering in my ear "He's a good man.."
Three blocks away is an Avant Garde theater. Giddy felt like high schoolers walking down the street holding sweaty palms. Special show mixing modern dance with ballet, rumors that it may be riske'. Our usher confessed to being Sophia's daughter, front row table, center seats.
Nervous as he quietly ordered drinks taking the lead, expressing his dominance. Cognac and smoked oysters wrapped in bacon, this man doesn't know he just hit a homer, bases loaded. Two buttons undone to prove I'm brasserie free not that he hadn't noticed already.
First act was no better than a cheerleader routine. Second act was set to a spicy jazz theme was much better, waiting for the curtain to open for the marque: Two Lost Lovers.
The curtains opened to a waif in the forest. Gossamer thin white one piece body suit barely covering her sex. Darkened aureoles visible and the small patch of pubic hair on her prominent mound. Classic ballet moves with sexy body gyrations.
Program listed the scenes, he was narrating softly in my ear "Lost in the forest." We were sitting hip to hip, ours hands on each others inner thighs. Warm breath sent shivering chills to my toes. En Pointe every sinewy strand in the ballerina's legs stretched with effortless strain. Telling the story with her hands, acting was impeccable.
Across and all around the stage touching her self remembering a lost love, caresses that would be embarrassing in public. Can't find her way in the dark forest. Slumped shoulders and full body sobs. Soon the sobs became the pangs of hunger, the body's need for nourishment. Collapsing in tears at the base of tangled bushes.
Slowly a face appeared from the foliage, long blonde stringy hair, face from the bodice ripper romance novels sold in supermarkets. "Salvation.."
His tongue jiggled my dangly pierced ear ring, flinched slamming my knees together.
On stage an arm worthy of the Sistine Chapel, one finger extended touching the sleeping form, a curiosity that he had never seen before.
Awakening the nymph coaxed the adonis into the open, a tiger from his lair. Same white material covers his testes and penis, less coverage than an athletic supporter framing his manhood. "Staff of life." Felt his hardness extend down his pant leg, his uncomfortable squiggle in his chair.
Perfect male specimen, defined pectorals, washboard abdominals, the vee leading to his thrusting manhood. "A new world." Graceful ballet stretching to pluck an apple from a high limb, mimics how she should receive the bounty to her hungry stomach. Dancing together in joy and sustenance.
