"So, when are you going to invite me over for dinner?"
Michelle's question surprised me a little, as I had recently turned forty and she was literally only half my age. I was graying a bit, but I ran several times a week and worked out regularly at the gym, so I looked about ten years younger than I actually was. Still...
"Well, that depends," I smiled and added playfully, "My social calendar is all filled up."
Michelle pouted a little. "Well, I don't cook, and I am tired of eating fast food. I want a nice, home-cooked meal, and rumor has it that you really know your way around the kitchen."
Michelle had only worked for the company for a couple of months. She was a summer intern, hired after her sophomore year at the University, where she was studying engineering. Interns were not generally given a lot of responsibility, and Michelle was no exception. She created mechanical drawings of manufacturing equipment, and she assisted the other designers. She was cute, although certainly not a knockout. Her hair was medium length and brown, and she was in good shape. Her breasts were average-sized, and her most attractive feature was clearly her ass, which looked great in the jeans that she tended to wear. Most unusually, her eyes were two different colors - the left was a grayish-blue, and the right was a deep brown. Once you were over the shock of initially seeing the two different colors, you found yourself gazing into those eyes almost hypnotically.
It was a Wednesday, and I had nothing planned, so I suggested that she come over to my place that night. I was living in an old farmhouse at the time, but there was an up-to-date kitchen that was ideal for entertaining. I gave her directions, and told her that seven o'clock that evening would be perfect.
After work I picked up some supplies at the local supermarket. I figured that I would go with Italian food that night, since it was easy and I had already made a perfect tomato sauce the previous evening. In addition to some boneless breaded chicken breasts, which I would make into chicken Parmigiano, I also had penne pasta and a salad on my menu.
Michelle arrived at my house about 15 minutes late, and she looked great. She walked in wearing a nice white blouse and jeans, and she had applied some makeup. She came into my kitchen, where I was putting the finishing touches on dinner, and she leaned forward to kiss me on the cheek.
"Sorry I'm a little late. I hope that didn't cause a problem." She looked at me with those mismatched eyes, and with a slight grin added, "I had some other business to take care of first."
"Oh?" I looked at her enquiringly. "What business would that be?"
"Well, I have this boyfriend, his name is Dean, and he and I had a date for tonight. I broke it, I told him I had other things to do." She smiled conspiratorially, and winked.
"I like him OK, and he really treats me well, but he is boring. We don't talk about anything meaningful, and he doesn't excite me," she said as she took the glass of wine that I offered.
We clinked glasses, and each took a sip. It was a nice Pinot Grigio, which I had been saving for a special occasion. I normally drank red wine, but for some reason I wanted the chilled crispness of a dry white tonight.
"What do you mean, 'he doesn't excite you'. How so?" I asked.
"Well, we do the same boring things all the time. We go out to dinner, we go to a movie, we watch television at my apartment." She paused for a moment and added, "Even his kisses are boring."
She took another sip of the wine. "This is really good, I love how smooth and crisp it tastes." She watched me take the chicken Parmigiano from the oven, and I brought it over to the dinner table. She surveyed the table, nodding approvingly at the nice china and silverware that I had set out.
"Please, take a seat," I said, as I pulled out a chair for her.
"My, such a gentleman. And your table looks great, with the candles, and the beautiful china," Michelle commented
I served the salad, and placed some pasta and chicken on her plate. She ate with gusto, and we continued talking, laughing, and drinking. We took our time, enjoying the food and each other's company, talking about the different people at work, our favorite music, and films.
Earlier in the evening, I had cut up some fresh fruit and prepared a large bowl of strawberries, cantaloupe, and blueberries for dessert. After I brought this to the table, Michelle reached into the bowl with her fingers, picked up a large strawberry slice, and dropped it into her wineglass.
"Have you ever tried strawberries like this?" she asked, sipping the wine and allowing the strawberry to slide easily into her mouth.
I was mesmerized, as I watched her chew the strawberry. "No, I never have. No, wait, I have had them in champagne like that, but never in a dry white wine."
She reached into the fruit bowl again, and plucked a large slice of strawberry, which she placed in my wineglass. "Try this, you'll really enjoy it," she said, adding "Let's go into the den, and put on some music."
We brought the bowl of fruit, our wineglasses, and the bottle of white wine into the den. Michelle sat on the carpet on the floor, and I placed the glasses, bottle, and bowl down next to her. I went to the CD player, put on some recent classical releases, then returned and sat next to her.
I was sort of half lying-down on the carpet. Michelle looked at me thoughtfully and, taking a strawberry between her thumb and forefinger, took a small bite and offered the remaining piece to me. She held the fruit tantalizingly close to my mouth, teasing me with it. I opened my mouth and took the piece of fruit from her, brushing her fingers lightly with my lips as she placed the strawberry on my tongue.
We continued to talk, drink the wine, and listen to the music. At one point, Michelle had placed a large strawberry in my wineglass, and I had let it marinate there for awhile.
Michelle asked, "Aren't you going to eat that strawberry?"
"Why, do you want it?" I asked in reply.
She nodded, and I took a sip of my wine from my glass, allowing the strawberry to slip into my mouth. I held the fruit gingerly between my teeth, and leaned forward to place it in her mouth without using my hands.
I liked the way Michelle knew what I was intending, because she leaned forward and took the strawberry into her mouth without using her hands, allowing my lips to touch hers.
