Part 2: Café Aphrodite
This is the 2nd part of a 6 part story. Please read The Cottage –Arrival before reading this part. Once again special thanks to TRCIII for all of his help.
I awoke the next morning to the aroma of bacon. I lay there for a few seconds, remembering the day before. I don't think I have awoken so horny in my life. Food was about the farthest thing from my mind, but the bacon smelled good and knowing his culinary skills, I was assured of a delectable breakfast. I put on the slinkiest, silkiest negligee that I owned and went downstairs.
I quietly went down the stairs; I could see him flipping the bacon in the pan. He was wearing a pair of grey sweat shorts and a white tee-shirt that accentuated his hard, muscled chest. As he turned to reach into the cabinet for the plates, I reached my arms around him. I gently fondled his cock; he let out a soft sigh. He forgot about the plates and turned around, taking in what I was wearing. My nipples were visible through the sheer material. He gently reached down and pulled my nipples outward with his fingers.
He turned to me and said, "Hold that thought, the bacon is burning." He took the bacon off of the stove and placed it on the paper towel-lined plate. He asked me, "Would you prefer breakfast hot or cold?"
I reached over and licked his fingers and said, "Feed it to me,
hot
." With that, the eggs were scrambled and the toast, toasted. We each grabbed a plate and headed out onto the deck. He pulled a chair up right next to me. Our knees were touching and I reached over and gently started massaging his cock that had created a tent in his shorts.
He grabbed a forkful of food and placed it in my mouth. I stopped rubbing him and put a mouthful of food into his mouth. We continued this till we were both hungry for more. We pushed are plates aside and I climbed on top of him. Long slow playful adventures are fun, but quick and intense are sometimes best.
As I sat on top of him, I pushed my breasts into his face, making sure to feel his hardness on my exposed pussy. He quickly pulled my lingerie off over my head and buried his head into my breasts. He started to lick and suck each nipple with a fury of a man that wanted something, now. He took his shorts off while I continued to rub him.
When his hardness came in contact with my very wet pussy, I let him go in. Deep and fast, going faster and harder with each stroke. I could hear his breathing quicken with each down stroke; he pushed down on my hips and thrust his hips up to meet me. We kept going deeper until I felt his balls slap up against my ass. All of him was being thrust into me.
I was at the point of explosion as he grabbed my right nipple with his teeth and gently bit down, causing me to release on him, violently. I felt the hard pulses of him coming inside me. We both let out a cry of satisfaction. I stayed on him till I felt him soften and fall out of me, letting the hot cum trickle out me with him.
As he was cleaning up after breakfast, I gave him a peck on the cheek and went down to the beach to bath in the sun. I spread the blanket out, thinking back to my childhood—the fun we used to have chasing the waves. As I became a teenager we still used to come to the beach. I would lie on my blanket hoping some cute boy would accidentally hit me with his volleyball. Of course it never happened.
As I smeared the sunscreen on I was wondering what kind of a week I really wanted. I have always loved sex, but there was so much more to life. I just wanted to feel desired again.
As the sun beat down on me, a soft sea breeze blew, keeping me comfortable. I was finishing the last chapter of John Grisham's newest book. I was so happy that Chris wanted to make me happy, but I was tired of our normal boring sex life; I needed more.
Unfortunately I was not sure what more there was. How many times can you get on top, then he gets on top; after a while it all becomes stale. As much as I love licking his cock and I love him eating my pussy, even that can get stale.
I must have fallen asleep on the beach because before I knew, it was late afternoon. I grabbed my towel and headed back up to the cottage. He was nowhere in sight; then I saw the note on the counter. 'Gone golfing' it read; big surprise, I thought. He would probably be home soon.
I went upstairs to take a shower. In the bedroom there was a bouquet of fragrant roses of various colors, they were simply gorgeous. There was a black embossed card attached.
I opened the card and read, 'I have special plans for dinner. Put on the contents of the black garment bag, and do your hair the way I like it, with the little wisps in your face. Be ready around 5 p.m. Love you, Me'.
Okay, I have never known him to voluntarily get dressed up and go anywhere. As I opened the closet there it was, in the black garment bag, a red dress that tied around the neck with a back that was shaped in a 'V' that ended at the crack...well you get the idea. The dress had built-in cups, so I did not need to worry about a bra. Also in the bag were white thigh-high stockings, a white garter belt and black stiletto heels.
I grabbed the stocking, garter belt, a pair of red g-string panties and a pair of slippers and went to the shower. I took a quick shower, when I realized that my back was a little sunburned, and the water hurt me. I stood there staring into one of the many mirrors thinking how to do my make-up and hair. I decided to put on the stockings and garter belt, but no panties for tonight. I gently rubbed myself just thinking about what he might have in store for us.
As I finishing putting gel into my hair as he came up the stairs, it was already 4:30. I took my slippers off and put on the black suede heels that left my white stocking toes exposed and had a six-inch stiletto heel. I felt absolutely beautiful. He was dressed in a black tux with a red vest, which matched my dress exactly.
I asked him, "Do you like your lady in red?"
"Oh yes, I do. Will you be mine, tonight?" he asked in a boyish tone.
"I think that could be arranged," I said, as I kissed his cheek. "But first I need you to do something for me."
"What?" he asked.
I handed him the bottle of aloe. "Would you mind putting this on my back? I fell asleep on the beach." Although my back was not that bad, I still didn't want it to peel. I untied my dress so none of the lotion would get on it. He gently massaged the cooling lotion on my back and neck; the way he did it stirred a warm sensation between my legs.
I fought the urge to touch him, afraid that we would be late. After he finished putting the gel on my back I redid the straps of my dress and away we went.
As we were driving into town I asked him, "Where are we going?"
"We are going to an upscale erotic club," he said.
"So, we are going to a strip club?" I said sarcastically.
"No, there are no strippers; just interesting food, great drinks, and a very sexually-charged atmosphere that is very upscale. No $2 beers here," he said, with a devilish grin.
We pulled up to the valet parking for Café Aphrodite. The valet opened my door and greeted me with a broad smile. Chris put his arm around my waist as we walked down the red carpet, which was shielded from the weather by a red canopy that had Café Aphrodite stenciled in gold lettering. The entrance was a brick red façade with an oval opening. The Maitre'd greeted us with a very sensual, "Do you have reservations?"
He was standing at a wide pedestal that colleges use for graduation. The pedestal was ebony stained with a red velvet runner that had gold three inch long tassels on each side. The lighting was very dim, setting a romantic tone. Everywhere you looked there were tones of deep red, deep purple, and ebony-stained wood. The walls were painted red with gold-leaf accents. The stage on the front wall was decorated with erotically posed brass statues. The black velvet curtains hung seductively on the ebony flooring.
The whole place was tiered; there was a row of ten booths per level that were surrounded on three sides by six-foot-high wooden sides, so only people in front could see. There were fourteen steps that lead down to the stage, with seven different levels of booths.
"Yes, for 5 o'clock in the Kama Sutra Room, for the Smith's," Chris said.
"Oh! Yes, right this way." He led us down the steps towards the stage, and directed us to go through a door on the right about three-quarters of the way down. This was a magnificent room; just like the main room it was tiered, with a stage in the front. The booths looked the same, except this room contained only five booths per level. The stage was decorated very similarly to the other room. I was dying with curiosity and I asked the Maitre'd, "What is the stage used for?"
He politely said, "You will see; it is part of the after-dinner show."
He led us to our table on the second tier from the stage and the third booth in. Great, I thought to myself, people who walk by us will see anything we do. The room buzzed from the noises of other guests, although I did not remember seeing anyone else when we came in. The booths really were secluded. Our table had a solid-gold globe candle holder, with a scented candle I was not familiar with: it was sweet but not fruity smelling. The table linen was the same deep rich red as the walls, the booth had black leather cushioning upholstered to the walls and the seat cushions were made of a plush soft cotton cover. There were two gold throw pillows in the center of the booth. We'd no sooner sat down when the waitress came over.
She was a very pretty woman in her late twenties, wearing a black lace teddy, black stockings and black patent leather knee-high boots; to help her manage waitressing, the heels were of a reasonable length. She had long golden-blonde hair that was pulled tightly back with black, red and gold ribbons. She handed us our menus, telling us that her name was Cindy, and asked for our drink order. Before I could ask for a drink my husband spoke, "Yes, I would like the Matinee and she will have the Candy Maker."
She said, "Thank you."
