It was a week since Mrs. Ruben awakened him to the opposing aspects of their tryst: his short-comings and the absolute joy of her. Matthew felt he bungled the whole thing. His foolish plan, his inexperience with human interaction in general, and a lover in particular: making heart-felt declarations of love on their first non-public meeting resulting in Mrs. Ruben snorting in laughter, then actually crying, made him feel stupid and childish. He needed experience.
Concerning the sex, he believed Mrs. Ruben was a generous soul so she faked her enjoyment. He learned women frequently fake their orgasms. He learned this from movies and porn. In the case of porn, the actresses writhed and moaned, and he likened it to Mrs. Ruben's response.
What an actress!
At least Mrs. Ruben cared enough to fake it for Matthew, and that gave him hope. His enjoyment however, was not faked in the least. He ached to feel that joy again.
Initially he believed she climaxed, on retrospect, he realized this could not be. He groped her a bit and then plunged inside her for less than a minute. In porn, he'd seen the actors spend abundant time on each of numerous positions until their final explosive release.
Obviously he couldn't satisfy her as a man, and how he longed to bring her that joy. His plan was to gain experience and when he returned, if she accepted him, she wouldn't have to fake it. He would care for her properly and show her he loved her with the poise and grace of a worldly man. He just hoped his initial failure didn't kill any future chance.
With this in mind, he sought experience and noticed potential partners everywhere, but found approaching them difficult. Matthew worked at Poseidon Seafood Restaurant as a busboy. Previously he performed his busboy duties in solitude minimizing interaction with wait staff and customers alike. Since his awakening, he craved something different.
Iris, the owner of Poseidon, worried about Matthew. She watched him excel in his duties; she suspected intelligence, but his debilitating shyness amazed her, because physically, he was well above average. She decided to do something about his debilitation by forcing him from his comfortable isolation. She had no idea he had an awakening, and that he was seeking her to request a move to waiter for the money and more interaction with the patrons; this would be an easy way to approach potential partners.
A strip club down the street had male strippers on Wednesdays, so groups of women arrived at the restaurant, eating and getting buzzed before going to the show. Iris thought the situation a possible win/win: she could help business and Matthew at the same time.
Matthew would be a draw for women meaning to see male beauty and it would help him by compelling him to interact. She sprung it on him the Wednesday evening a week since his awakening; she sought to surprise him so he couldn't worry himself to frenzy beforehand. Matthew agreed to do it readily enough, though she knew he was nervous and had misgivings.
The restaurant was decorated with plaster-of-paris sculptures of fishes, mermaids, and Poseidon bearing a trident. Fishing nets and colorful wall paintings, done by Iris' brother Cristo, completed the décor. A partition ran down the middle of the restaurant with a busboy station at the end, near the entrance. Booths lined the walls. In low light it didn't look half bad.
That evening Matthew decided for the first time to sit with a group of busboys, waiters, and waitresses prior to the evening shift at a table reserved for large groups. They gossiped in whispers, and Matthew was shocked; he had no notion of the intrigue that swirled around him. There was so much gossip, affairs and drama, Matthew felt he had been living in society's façade, and clueless about its real machinations.
Later, four raucous ladies with lust and combat in their eyes, who had gotten an early start, sat in his section. Matthew already got their drink orders and now took their dinner orders while they spoke frankly to each other about Matthew's qualities. He took it all in stride and laughed with them instinctively knowing if they got a rise out of him, they'd tear him to shreds. He went around the booth and got to the last woman. She looked up at him and said "You're so tall, it hurts my neck."
Matthew knelt beside her and stared into big, beautiful sea-green eyes; he wanted to dive in. She was gorgeous with a halo of long thick black hair, and patient, kindly smile. Transfixed, he blurted "Wow!" She flashed a buzzed smile, put her hands on either side of his head, and kissed his soul. He felt the kiss everywhere. She gently took his tongue into her mouth; there was no other part of him, he was completely inside her, deliciously warm, sweetly caressed. Her hand casually released tension from the back of his neck; tension which escaped his notice until she released it. He went limp for a moment, but caught himself before he fell.
She pulled out of the kiss, but he chased her. He had to have more. Her hand pressed his chest and he opened his eyes. She smiled, but gently shook her head no. Groaning in loss and disappointment, it took a moment to disengage and realize he was back in the crowded restaurant. He needed to take her order. He gathered from their discussion this beautiful woman's name was Leslie.
Matthew stood to go, but it felt wrong! Leslie kissed his soul! He had to say something. LEAP! She was looking up at him and he remembered, so he knelt and spoke gravely, "If you need or want anything...
anything
, I am your man." The other ladies hooted and giggled while Leslie just grinned, but he knew she was pleased.
Vicky, a thirtyish woman whose flawless ebony skin exuded health, observed with a crooked grin, "He's got it bad!"
Tanya, a hardened mid-twenties blonde, stared appraisingly. She declared, "He's cute; I want one." Her eyes wandered hungrily.
Leslie turned and laughed with her friends when Janine, the unofficial lead waitress, came to speak to Matthew. Janine was a single, elementary school teacher who supplemented her salary working evenings at Poseidon. Men spied the pretty woman while she walked up and down the aisles of the restaurant, her brunette pony tail swinging counterpoint to her swaying hips.
Janine approached and grasped his waist, turning him away from the booth. She leaned in close and whispered in his ear "I need to talk to you when you have a moment." Then her hand slid down and patted his bottom. This confused Matthew as she never expressed interest, and they never had a real conversation. She walked away to tend to other tables. Confused, Matthew watched Janine's retreating back.
Matthew turned to go when Leslie grabbed his hand and said, "Oh!" She studied his hand touching the thick calluses and pressing the thick muscle between thumb and forefinger.
"Rock climbing," Matthew said before she could ask.
Leslie pulled his hand to the center of the table offering it to her friends. Vicky, her dark fingers delicately traced his calluses. The young blonde, Tanya, grasped his upper arm with a predatory grin.
Noreen a fortyish brunette commented, "You must have strong hands," She smiled.
Matthew picked up a bottle cap lying on the table; he placed the bottle cap between thumb and pinky and squashed it flat. Tanya frowned in concentration and tried to duplicate the feat with different combinations of fingers. Then she tried to crush it between her hands using both arms but couldn't; the sharp cap edges dug into her flesh leaving angry red depressions. "Ow, how do you do that?" She asked in frustration.
"Climbing changes your hands the most. Not in appearance, it's not like your hands get bulked out on steroids, but they change the most. They become callused claws." he shrugged. The table seemed impressed as they each gave it a try.
"So is that waitress your lover?" Leslie asked while the bottle cap feat was attempted by the other women.
