It'll make the most sense if you read part one first.
*
It was one week after Cassie's accident, when I'd stopped to help her at the scene and stitched a large and nasty laceration in her left leg fold. I stopped after work at the Red Lobster restaurant. I wanted to get some shrimp and a cold beer at the bar.
As I entered I went towards the bathrooms. I heard some commotion in the adjoining dining area.
"Look, ma'am, we're going to have to insist..."
"I'm sorry; I just don't have my wallet, or my phone. I must've forgotten to pick them up when I got my other purse. You can check in my purse yourself if you'd like," said a small and timid voice.
"That's at least an original one," a more officious voice stated sarcastically. "I have to admit I've never heard that one before."
"If you'll just let me call someone, I'm sure we can settle this..."
That small and timid voice...I knew it sounded familiar. Cassie??
I peaked around the corner and, sure enough, there was my Hispanic bank teller buddy on the hot seat. A manager-type person was sternly standing over her with three wait-staff people for support.
She looked adorable, but very vulnerable. The V-necked blouse she wore plunged to show her pink bra below her breasts, showing ample cleavage. Her soft, wavy, shiny, brown hair surrounded her brown eyes. She wore a concerned expression on her face. Her immaculate expression was pale with worry, and her five foot tall 110 pound body was nearly quaking. She had a little guy of about five years, her son, in the seat next to her eating some French fries and being completely oblivious to the crisis ensuing.
I thought quickly about what I could do to help my little buddy. I walked boldly into the fray.
"Oh my goodness, Cassie, I can't say I'm sorry enough times. Can you forgive me for being late? I got held up at work," I said, loud enough for all to hear.
"What? Oh, Doctor, I was...," she stuttered.
"I know that's a limp excuse and I've used it before but, please, I really am sorry."
Well, Cassie is nothing if not really sharp intellectually and caught onto my scam quickly.
"Well," she pouted, "it's about time."
"It looks like you've already eaten, so will you at least let me make it up to you? Have dessert with me?" I looked her little guy right in the eye. "Some ice cream on a brownie sound good?"
Now I had an ally. "Can we, Mom?" he asked. "Can we get dessert now?"
"I don't want dessert," declared Cassie.
"Have a drink with us while we do?" I asked, leaning towards her little son and winking at him.
"Please, Mom?" he begged.
"Okay, but just one," she replied.
Acting somewhat surprised, I looked up at the staff still standing beside our table. "Can someone let us see a dessert menu, and get the lady a drink? And what's this?" I asked, taking Cassie's dinner check out of the manager's hand.
"Here," I said. "Let me take care of this, like I should have done already." I paid with a handsome gratuity. After all, I'm nothing if not a gentleman.
While the staff moved away I again noticed how pretty Cassie was. She had turned in her seat a bit, probably to regain her composure, and her skirt slid up her thighs. Her panties were pink to match her bra. Her arms were back and her tits threatened to pop out of her blouse.
Looking up and smiling at me, she put her hand on my thigh and said, "What am I going to do with you? How can I ever thank you?"
"Are you okay?" I asked her.
"I'm just about embarrassed to death," she said.
"Well, don't be. You're among friends now," I said.
She smiled wider and moved her hand on my thigh. Her skirt was almost to her lap. Her nipples were all that were still concealed by her blouse. And my dick was really getting stiff and hard.
"Wait a minute," she said. "Is this that date we talked about at the bank?"
I laughed. She'd criticized me during my bank visit for having too much money in my account and I'd threatened to spend it on a date with her. Just funning, at the time.
"No, this can't be an official date, because I didn't ask for one yet," I said.
"What about if I asked?"
