Restaurant Surprise

I saw them as they walked past my table in the restaurant to sit in the booth behind me. The girl was attractive in an eastern European way. She had brown hair tied back, which emphasised her high cheek bones. She was medium height, thin, with small high breasts and lean legs. Her hard, flat stomach was just visible between her t-shirt and denim skirt. For some reason my instinctive assessment was that she could have been a repressed librarian.

I glanced at her companion. He was average height and frankly, just average in general, although to be fair I was distracted by the girl's toned stomach.

I could hear bits and pieces of their conversation behind me while I tried to enjoy my meal. He wanted to do this, she didn't; he offered this, she rejected that. Obviously not a first date. More like a couple discovering their incompatibilities.

Intrigued, I gave up on my meal and tried to listen in. Surprisingly, they were a reversal of the usual stereotypes. He wanted children, she didn't - quite vehemently in fact. He wanted a joint bank account, she wanted to retain her identity and independence. It was like listening to a daytime TV chat show.

Then the volume of the conversation dropped as the subject turned to sex and all of a sudden it was like listening to an episode of Jerry Springer with the mute button on the remote control coming on at random intervals.

From what I could gather, she wanted sex, more often and with lots of variety. Moron, I thought, what a waste! A tasty wench, crying out for more and this idiot not taking advantage of the situation or providing her with what she needed. Either way, he was clearly a fool. Even though I could not see his reaction, it was obvious that he clearly wanted this conversation to cease, or at least put on hold, until they were at home.

Tellingly, her last comment before the conversation fizzled out was about him taking charge more often. I could hear them paying the bill behind me, getting ready to leave. I heard her say "I'll see you at the car," then in a lower voice as she walked away from him, "unless of course you want to demonstrate some initiative."

As I watched her walk to the bathroom, I was conscious of him already leaving the restaurant through the side door to the car park. Suddenly it occurred to me: this woman was available, obviously needing sex, looking for dominance and temporarily unaccompanied.

Almost without any conscious thought, it then occurred to me that if I could grab her from behind and not let her see me, she might think it was her partner trying to demonstrate his machismo. Not that I cared. All I knew was that I wanted her and she was available, albeit for a limited period of time.

I knew from previous experience that the male and female bathrooms were both at the end of a corridor, just past a cool food storage room and the janitor's closet. I was fairly sure that the cool room was unlocked, but that had the danger of unwelcome visitors. Given how early in the evening it was, the janitor's closet seemed the better bet.

Leaving enough money on the table for the meal and tip, I quickly made my way to the bathroom corridor. As I had hoped, the janitor's closet was shut, but not locked. The room was small, with a variety of mops and buckets at one end and a desk covered with cardboard boxes and old tablecloths at the other end. The smell of polish and glass cleaner was strong, but not overpowering.

I quickly cleared the desk as I heard a flush from the female bathroom next door. Grabbing a tablecloth in one hand, I closed the door but left it open a crack, just enough for me to ensure I did not grab someone else by mistake and also to look down the corridor to confirm no one was coming from the other direction.

The bathroom door creaked open, alerting me to her departure. She took two steps past my door, just enough for me to confirm it was her and that no one else was around. I swiftly emerged from the closet, wrapped the grubby tablecloth around her head and dragged her back into the small room. It took maybe all of five seconds. Quick enough that she had not even registered a scream.

Now she was mine. I had never felt so aroused. My hard-on throbbed, begging to be released...

(To be continued in Chapter 2.)