Thanks to everyone for the great response to the first chapter of 'Jealousy'. I really do appreciate the ratings and comments. This chapter continues from the first, and I have chosen the leave it in 'Incest/Taboo' on the account there are references to Sarah and also that this is the real crux of the story and you will see in future chapters.
I hope you all enjoy!
*****
Sarah had said little to me since she found out I was meeting her former close friend, Leah, for a date. She had gone to work in the morning without as much as a goodbye, but did have the grace to wish me luck as I stepped out of the door. I was all suited and booted, ready to go to a swanky restaurant where Leah and I had arranged to meet. Or rather where our mothers, who had organised this rendezvous, had arranged.
I checked my watch. She was over ten minutes late. The waitress was starting to eye me with suspicion and pity, as if he thought I had been stood up. I took little shame in eyeing her up back as I waited; I was a single man still after all, despite my mother's best efforts. She was a cute little red head (the waitress, not my mom), maybe a little older than me, with her hair up in what seemed an obligatory bun. The short, tight material of her black dress encased her ass perfectly, including a little dip between the cheeks, and the plunging neckline did little to hide the small, but pert, tits underneath. She saw him looking at her, and walked over.
"Can I help you, sir?" she asked politely.
"No, I'm fine thanks...," I started, searching for the name badge that she wasn't wearing (and ended up looking more like I was staring at her tits)- this was too upscale a place for that.
"Rosie," she finished. "Let me know if you need anything."
With that she walked away to do another job. Rosie seemed more pleased that I was checking her out, than disgusted, I noted.
Leah was nowhere to be seen, it was coming up on twenty minutes. I texted my mom to check everything was okay but received no reply, likely on account of it not being charged.
"Are you still expecting company, sir?" Rosie asked queried, who had seemingly appeared from nowhere.
"I was," I replied, staring at my watch once more. "But they are over thirty minutes late, I think I should take that as a sign."
"Well, whoever stood you up must be an idiot," she blurted. "...sir."
"Well thank you," I blushed.
"Can I get you the check, sir?" she asked.
"Please, call me Nick. The check would be great," I said, before calling her back as she turned away. "And your number would be fantastic."
Rosie smiled, and walked to the register to print my receipt. Two minutes later, the check for my solitary drink was on the table along with a phone number scribbled on the bottom, a cute heart and a note saying she gets off at midnight (if I had my way she would certainly be getting off at midnight). I pocketed it, and smiled to myself. That was the first number I had gotten since Emily. Standing, I put my overcoat on over my suit and headed to the door. The doorman (yes, it was that kind of place) cleared my path to the outside world by opening the door, and I turned to him to give him a quick nod. As I turned my head back, all I saw was blonde hair flying at me and tits smothering me. I staggered back, but managed to maintain my balance.
"Watch where you're going!" I admonished, before looking up and falling speechless. A vision of absolutely beauty stood before me. Her aforementioned long, blonde fair flowed down to her midriff; she wore it down, and had curled it into waves. She was wearing a full-length gown, that was sheer white and fairly tight- tight enough to show every curve on her clearly sexy as fuck body. She was of medium height, perhaps up to my chin and everything about her looked toned. Of course, I would have to get the beautiful dress off her, just to double check. There was one area, however, that I didn't need to wait to check: her tits. The design meant that the neckline plunged down to the bottom of her cleavage, revealing enough to get me semi-hard. They weren't the biggest in the world (maybe a C cup?), but they were round, and did not sag one bit even without a bra. I didn't know who this girl was, but screw my date, I was going to get her naked if it was the last thing I did.
"Nick?" she asked.
"Do I know you?"
"It's Leah, Leah Benson? I'm so sorry I'm late!"
"Shit! You've grown up!" I exclaimed, taking another look at her.
"I could say the same about you," Leah replied, giving me the once over. It was only then I realised how long it was since we last met. We mustn't have been older than 14 or 15. Our families had drifted away from each other in the previous few years, and it was now just our mothers who met up albeit irregularly. "I'm so sorry I was late, I couldn't make my mind up about my outfit then I dropped the curling iron and the taxi was late..."
"It's okay," I reassured, before laughing. "We've skipped ahead anyway, I've already motorboated you!"
"Yeah, sorry about that, I came around that corner like Usain Bolt!" Leah said, making them both laugh. "I take it our table has been taken?"
"Yeah."
"I know this nice cocktail bar a couple of blocks over, where we wouldn't look like twats in our outfits. We could grab a drink, catch up?"
"Thank you, I hate it in that restaurant. Not my scene."
"Mine neither, come on."
And with that, she turned and hailed a cab. Well, I assume that's what she was doing. I didn't know, because I was in a trance. As she turned, her ass was revealed. Her perfectly shaped, very round, toned ass. It was big, but not obscenely so, big enough to make it a handful to grab, but not impossible. It was shaped like a peach (cliché, I know), had no droop whatsoever, and it was glorious. The bounce it had, as she turned to search the street, was all it took to make me rock hard. Luckily my overcoat would cover it.
"Keep looking," Leah said out of nowhere, while still looking away from me. "I've worked hard enough on it, attention is welcome."
That made my hard on even worse. She was sexy and she knew it- a deadly combination. Eventually, a taxi stopped. Ever the gentleman, I opened the door and let her slip inside which earnt me a genuine smile (chivalry isn't dead, people). I noticed that she wasn't wearing heels which I thought she might be, considering her dress.
"No heels?" I queried.
"Good spot, Sherlock," she laughed. "I don't like them, they're not comfy, so I don't wear them."
The matter-of-factness of it all just made me even more attracted to her. A girl who knew her own mind, and did not compromise on her views even with the pressure of societal norms. I think I was in love.
We reached the cocktail bar, and she took my arm as we stepped inside and found a table. After three rounds of drinks we started getting tipsy. We had talked about everything, from the 'olden days' of us hanging as children to now. She even revealed she had a little crush on me when we were younger. After another drink, she confessed that she had masturbated to the thought of me fucking her before.
