She looked gorgeous, as I had hoped she would. It was only one week ago that we had first had each other, she took me by surprise in her bathroom. I had never kissed another woman before that night. I feared she may not want to see me again, or worse, revert back to our "socially-polite-wives-of-faculty" roles. But here she was, ten o'clock on a Saturday night sitting at the bar well into her third bourbon. And she was a little drunk. And she still looked sexy to me, even more than I remember. It must have been the anticipation building up in me the entire week. Her husband left this morning for three or four days, mine was gone for several weeks, our respective children were away at school until the holidays next month. I was so overwhelmed, overjoyed, I should say, at last week's events, I hardly touched myself this past week.
"Hey," she said to me gently, "when are you off?"
I was drying some stemware and placing it in the racks above the prep area behind the bar. I never tended bar, I hardly knew where anything was, and the efficient Jill, the best bartender I ever hired was on duty, but I had a very special customer tonight, Diana. She had arrived by cab about 45 minutes ago and we conversed casually while sharing our intimacy through eye gestures. The night had been a typical crazy busy Saturday night. I don't usually work on that night, it's just too much and Jorge basically can run the house fine. I've done it for so many years, building up my restaurant to its current high-profile status. But since last week and being so fidgety about Diana, not knowing where all this might lead, I had to delve into something, and of course, a restaurant is endless if you have the energy.
I was exhausted and wanted to leave. I poured myself my first drink of the night, a vodka and sipped it eagerly in front of her.
"Carla, I have a few big surprises for you, if you play your cards right," she teased in a whispered sexy voice.
I grew ravenous for her. "What do you mean, if I play my cards right? What cards? What kind of surprises?" I couldn't imagine what she meant.
I refilled my glass and hers when the help wasn't looking and we toasted each other, "To us," we whispered and giggled like schoolgirls.
"I'm quitting, Jorge," I yelled into the kitchen as my big fat lovable gay head chef flung his hand at me, telling me to leave already, everything was under control.
I told Diana I had to get my coat in my office, did she want to follow and we could leave out the back where my car was. She got up and came behind the counter and we walked through the kitchen toward my office. I know Jorge detected something was up because he winked at me devilishly. In my office I gathered my things. Diana was looking around approvingly and said, "It's smaller than I thought, but you're the Big Cheese, the 'Jeffe.' Is this where you did the... you know... the vegetables you told me about?"
I had told her about stretching myself in the privacy of my office, using any of a number of food objects in storage.
"Yes, Diana, this is where I try sticking edible things up my ass to get it big enough for a fist. Is that what you wanted to hear me say?" I said in a low, slow, intentionally faked slutty voice.
She kicked the door closed and kissed me passionately. I kissed her back, dropping my coat to the ground. Her saliva swirling with her bourbon on my tongue. I caressed her head, my fingers moving down her body and shaking with childish excitement.
I broke our clutch, "Let's get out of here."
We passed through the cold storage area in the corridor to the back door and by boxes of vegetables. Diana's eyes immediately targeted a crate of large yellow and green zucchini. She caught my attention.
"Anything you want, love, but don't let anyone see you, that would really look bad, the two of us, you drunk, grabbing organic dildos..."
She took what looked like three or four samples, slid them into her oversized purse and we left.
I parked in her garage as she directed me and we entered the house from within. We were at the bottom of the stairs, near the dining room from where I bid her goodbye last week.
"Take off your coat and take this upstairs, I'm getting us some drinks," she said as she handed me her purse and sauntered off to the kitchen.
I found her bedroom, removed my boots and flopped on the bed, tired but feeling on the verge of my second wind. I heard her footsteps on the stairs and sounds of lights being clicked off.
"Here, beautiful Carla, my very own restaurateur, mine for the night," she spoke to me and handed me a tall Vodka on ice.
We clinked glasses and each took a healthy swig, staring into each other's eyes. I put my glass down and lay down on the soft white pillows.
I remember her touching my face so lightly, the breath upon my cheek, and the kiss. Her lips were nectar, soft, moist, warm, and tasting of her. Our tongues once again met and wrestled with one another. Her body now full upon mine, squirming for a fit. I somehow managed her silk blouse off and unhooked her bra spilling her breasts out, ripe, the nipples hardening. She was removing my black cashmere sweater revealing only a cotton undershirt which she had off quickly. My own buds were swelling and hard as they met her skin. We tit-rubbed and kissed for a half-hour, slowly exploring the bodies we each hungered for.
Last week was different, a hidden fast-paced jump. A secret in the dark while the world partied below. Tonight was ours and we had time. She tasted like nectar. My last memory of her kisses in this house were reminiscent of her shit, her glorious brown mingled with other body juices and of course her bourbon. She radiated an expensive perfume that lightly wafted through my being. I was electric and didn't know where to start, but somehow decided to let her take the lead.
She suckled my right breast and began pinching the nipples of the other one gently, descibring circles and massaging while I purred softly in her arms. Her legs were moving and I think I heard her jeans fall on the floor. Her weight shifted and the next thing I knew was a mouth licking my ankle, she had turned around and was squatting over my tits trying to wetten my feet. She took my big toe in her mouth and carved around it, the cracks on either side, the feeling was sinful and delicious. My eyes were closed and I felt the need to touch her so I reached up. Before I knew it her panties were grazing my face, her crotch above me. The scent was powerful, the aroma of the briny marinating ocean. I suddenly recalled a college chant from some of the boys about the mythological redheads, "stinks down there," they all would say.
I made out her exquisite bush under the fine linen as she lowered it upon my nose. As I was about to kiss the insides of her thighs toward the crack, the liquid became suddenly damp. On my face through the fabric her pee started trickling down. I was so excited to suck the cloth. I squirmed my mouth to the source and began chewing her panties.
I tried to finger the cloth aside on one leg to gain access to her hole and Diana got up quickly, slid them down entirely and sat back down naked over my mouth. Now a jet squirted out of her.
