My adorable wife Elise was getting ready for our business meeting, and she had never looked better. Her tiny frame fit tightly into her sleek purple dress. The silky material hung from two thin straps, covering her from her cleavage to half way down her thighs. Her brown hair flowed half way down her back, and her five foot two inch height was slightly elevated by high heels.
I admired her beautiful body as she applied her makeup. For her thin body, her breasts were surprisingly full, and her small butt still had a nice shape to it, perfectly pushed up by her heels. Thoughts ran through my mind about what I might do to her when we got home, but this meeting had to be the priority for my attention.
My wife and I ran a small business, and we had been contacted by someone with a similar operation, to meet over drinks in an expensive restaurant. I wasn't sure exactly what he had in mind, but I had to stay in charge. I wouldn't accept any other arrangement. I had built all this with my wife doing the paperwork, and I was not about to lose everything I worked so hard for.
We arrived at the restaurant right on time, only to find that our mysterious businessman had not yet appeared. The waiter guided us to a private table on the second floor. The booth our associate had reserved for us had a small round table with a U-shaped padded seat around it. There was even a swinging privacy door, one for each table in this secluded section. We took our seats and waited.
Ten minutes went by. "I've heard they do this." I said to my wife, who raised an eyebrow at me. "Executives. I hear they make their rivals wait before meetings, to show them who's in charge. I swear, if he thinks he can show dominance by wasting our time like this, he's bullying the wrong guy!"
"Bill, please. Nobody is bullying you. I'm sure he's just stuck in traffic and he'll apologize when he gets here."
"He better not be trying to take my business either. We have a fair partnership, or I'm walking away."
"Honey, relax. It's just a few drinks, not a takeover."
Despite her assurances, I nervously continued to worry for another five minutes when he finally showed up. My wife and I stood from our seats at either side of the table to greet him.
He was a giant man. Well over six feet tall, in an expensive suit, and to my surprise, he was black. I was fine with that, I had no problem with it at all, but for a moment, I was shocked.
"I see you found the place. Call me Dwayne." He said with a big smile, extending his huge hand. He didn't even apologize for making us wait. I went to shake his hand, and his grip eclipsed my own, squeezing so hard I almost whimpered. He released me and turned to my wife.
"You look beautiful, Miss." My wife nervously thanked him and began to step aside so he could sit down. "No, please, after you." He insisted, having her scoot down to the back of the U-shaped booth so that I was on one side of her while he was on the other, with the table between us.
For the first few minutes, we talked about the town, the economy and how our businesses were doing. No numbers and no talk of any deal, just idle chat. Then our drinks arrived, and after a few sips, he unbuttoned his suit jacket, and something else under the table I didn't quite see from my view.
"Ahhh, that's better. It feels so good to relax." He sighed, lifting his arms to the back of the seat and leaning back with a smile. I was a little relieved things were getting more casual, but when I glanced at my wife, she had gone ghostly pale. She was staring towards his lap with her brown eyes wide, and her mouth had fallen slightly open. I was worried she was feeling ill as all the blood had left her face.
"Honey? Is everything all right?" I asked, concerned. She was transfixed, as if in a trance, staring so hard at his crotch it looked like her eyes would pop out. "Honey?" I asked. Dwayne just looked at her and smirked. "F-fine, dear... everything's... f-fine." Elise finally responded, without tearing her eyes away from what had captured her attention.
I was about to ask her more, but Dwayne cut me off. Now he asked about numbers. Now he wanted to know how our sales were. Normally I would ask my wife, but she was nearly catatonic, still staring silently at Dwayne's lap, embarrassing me. I had no idea what was beneath the table, blocked from my view but offered openly to hers.
I stuttered and stammered, trying to think of figures while growing increasingly concerned for my wife. I glanced at her every couple seconds while I tried to think. "Um, honey? Do you remember the... honey?" I implored. Still she stared, pale and motionless.
