***Part 16 in an anthology of women performing oral sex.
***All characters are over 18 and are fictional. Any resemblance to any real-life persons or situations is purely coincidental.
.....
They didn't have to wait long at the bar, just enough time for a quick drink before the maître d' told them their table was ready. They followed the maître d' to the table, a perfect spot in the dining area where they could see everything and away from the kitchen.
"I can't believe you got us in here," said Naomi. "When I told Tasha, she got so jealous. She keeps texting me to ask how you got reservations at Savoureux so quickly; you always have to get reservations six to eight weeks ahead."
"Tell her I'm fucking the manager," Andre said jokingly.
Naomi laughed. "No, she may take it seriously. I'll tell her the truth."
The truth was, Andre got lucky with the reservation. He had been trying to get a table here for months, but whenever he was able to get one, it never worked out for a time that was good for him or Naomi. Today was her birthday, and he tried desperately to get a reservation for tonight, but the best they could do was to get him on the waitlist. He accepted it just in case something did open up for him by chance, but he didn't count on it.
Originally, Andre got a dinner reservation at another restaurant, an Italian place that Naomi always liked and where he took her on their first date. But at the last minute he lucked out when the restaurant called and said he was moved up on the waitlist due to some cancellations and he could have a table tonight if he wanted, which he happily took.
He waited until he drove Naomi to the restaurant to surprise her. He told her he was taking her to an Italian restaurant she liked, so she had no idea what was happening until he pulled into the parking lot. He told her about getting off the waitlist, and she was so happy she grabbed his head and pulled him in for a long, hard kiss. She joked about how she was so excited that she was ready to blow him right there in the car; a reward, Andre would of course have accepted.
As they waited for their table, they contemplated how many people had to have turned down canceling and turning down getting off the waitlist early to refuse a table here. Andre wasn't too far down that list, but they knew plenty of people had to be called ahead of him for them to get the call. They decided not to question anything about it and just accept the good fortune they were given.
"Thank you so much for taking me here," she said.
"Of course, baby. I'll do anything for my girl," he replied. "And it is your birthday after all."
"But still, I know how expensive this place could be, and I really appreciate it."
"Baby, I don't care about that at all. It's your birthday, and you could order whatever you like."
The waitress came by to take their orders. They took a few of her recommendations on the appetizers but picked their own entrées. Andre let Naomi order for him since she was more of the French food expert between them. Typically, the man orders for both, but he had no idea what he was reading, so he gave up that particular role tonight to Naomi so he wouldn't screw it up.
She did end up picking some of the more expensive items, and Andre was true to his word about not caring how much the food was there. He also insisted she order the most expensive bottle of wine on the menu as well for the occasion. Naomi was in disbelief that she had a boyfriend who was willing to pay this much for dinner to impress her. She didn't care about how much he made or how much he spent on her; money was not important to her. But she was still impressed by it nonetheless.
As they talked, they also looked around the restaurant. It was a beautiful place, but one thing about it they couldn't get over.
"Not a very diverse crowd," said Naomi.
"Very true," said Andre.
They appeared to be the only black couple among the probably couple hundred guests. They did see an Asian couple and a Hispanic couple, but not much else. They felt a slight sense of relief when they saw another black couple enter the dining area to take an available table so they wouldn't be the only ones there tonight.
"Maybe we're overthinking it," said Andre. "I mean, besides you and your sister, how many other black people do you know who love French food?"
"You're right," said Naomi. "But you know how it is. It can be awkward being one of the few black people in an area. Sometimes I feel like they're looking at us and wondering how we got in here."
"If any of them are looking at us, it's because they're jealous that I'm with the most beautiful woman in the city," said Andre.
Hearing that got Naomi smiling, and she had to resist giggling like a schoolgirl.
"And I'm sure the ladies here are jealous I'm with such an adonis," said Naomi.
Andre was a six-foot black man with a decent amount of muscle, a goatee, and a low fade hairstyle. Some people have said he could pass for Michael B. Jordan's brother. Not Andre's favorite actor, besides the Creed films, but still enjoyed the compliment.
When they got their appetizers, they were so amazing they considered ordering more of them before they realized they needed more room for the main course. The entrées eventually came, and Naomi took pictures of the meal so she could post about it later. They were savoring every moment of the meal; it took several months to get here, but it was worth every moment.
"This is incredible," said Naomi.
"I know, if this place wasn't so ridiculously expensive, I'd come here every week."
"I wonder who were the people who couldn't make it here."
"Who knows?"
"It is a little strange, though," Naomi said, looking perplexed.
"How so?" Andre asked.
"From what I understand, the waitlist for a free reservation was long, and all of a sudden, we moved up ahead of several people."
"That happens sometimes. We almost got a reservation because of this before."
"Yeah, but those were for some days in advance, not all of a sudden happening all at once for the same day. It seems too peculiar."
"Just count your blessings we got this reservation. Who cares how we got it?" said Andre.
"I suppose you're right."
As they continued eating, they approached a woman who got Naomi's attention.
"Hello, I'm Jenny, the manager of Savoureux," she said. "I'm just checking how our guests are doing."
Naomi was surprised that the manager was so attractive and how sexy she dressed. She was a tall white woman in her late twenties with long blonde hair and amazing blue eyes. She was wearing a tight, black dress with the hem cut halfway up her thighs and the top revealing plenty of cleavage from her double D cup breasts. If it wasn't for her nametag saying she was the manager, Naomi would not believe she was who she said she was. She looked more like a runway model than a restaurant manager.
"We're doing fine; the food here is amazing," said Naomi.
"I'm glad you're enjoying yourself," said Jenny. "How about you, sir? Is the food... Andre, is that you?"
Andre looked up from his plate and was surprised by the woman standing next to their table.
"Jenny?" he asked.
"Oh my god, it is you. How have you been?" she asked.
