I'm requesting that no e-mail address be posted with this story. Hope you enjoy this one…I sure enjoyed writing it! Thanks!
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He walked into one of the newest and best-rated restaurants for his lunch break. The waiter greeted him and led him to a booth, where he sat down and began looking over the menu. I looked up as I chatted with the girl at the pickup window, realizing it was my turn to wait the next table. I told her I'd catch up with her later and proceeded to grab an order pad. As I approached the table, I was surprised to discover how handsome my new customer was. He was a tall, dark-haired piece of eye candy with a nice body (from what I could tell under that business suit) and bedroom eyes. Somehow managing to keep my composure, I gave him a cheerful greeting and began reciting the day's specials. He finally looked up from the menu and ordered a drink, but he soon found himself studying something that wasn't on the menu. For the sake of modesty, I guess I am pretty easy on the eyes…I'm tall – about 5'9", not "supermodel skinny" (which is just fine with me), but voluptuous and curvy, like a 1940's movie star. I have light golden brown skin – an almost tropical honey-almond complexion – long, dark brown hair, brown eyes, full lips, and a cute smile to top it off. It seemed like he was impressed. I figured that he'd noticed the mischievous twinkle in my eyes as I strolled off to get his drink. I mean, what can I say? I liked what I saw too.
By the time I returned with his drink and some silverware, I'd made up my mind that I would brush up on my flirting skills with my handsome customer. I unrolled the napkin and silverware on the table, and silly me – I "accidentally" dropped his fork. I bent down to pick it up and caught a glimpse of him, and it was clear that he was trying to catch his wandering eyes again. Smiling to myself, I rushed off to get a clean fork and returned almost instantly to take his order. Afterwards, I reached across him to take the menu and to my horror, I knocked his drink over, spilling it all over him. He jumped up, shocked by the cold, and I cringed with total embarrassment. I apologized repeatedly and silently hoped that no one really noticed, but as I scanned the room, I saw about half of the non-smoking section staring at us. I tried to help him clean up and dry off, but it was no use. I commented that I couldn't dry him off very well this way and suggested that he come with me to the private washroom in the back of the restaurant, still constantly apologizing. He told me it was okay – it was an accident, and it seemed as though he felt sorry for me because of my obvious embarrassment.
When we arrived at the washroom, he thanked me and started to clean up. I stood across the room guarding the door, watching him clean his shirt. Even though I was still reeling a little from my public humiliation, my mind began to wander as I watched him, slowly filling with "impure" thoughts. I had an idea.
He was surprised to hear a distinct 'click' from across the room. When he looked up and noticed that I'd locked the door, he stopped what he was doing and stared at me.
"Don't worry about that stain…I'll help you clean up," I said.
My voice was a little softer. As I came toward him, my walk was a little more sensual. He had a questioning look on his face, wondering what I was going to do. I gently put my hands on him and looked up into his eyes. To him, it seemed like I was reading his thoughts. Then I flashed him a smile and my hands traveled downward to the wet spot on his shirt. I started to soak up the spilled drink with a towel.
"I hope I didn't embarrass myself too much," I said with a little laugh.
" No, no – not at all. Don't even worry about it. Accidents happen," he said, trying to comfort me a little.