Dining Alone

"There was no unpleasantness. As you might imagine, things were awkward in the morning. We had both been drunk, and now we were sober. She knew that I was not a lesbian, and there was no future with me. I had learned that I felt no shame about enjoying another woman, and I knew that one day I wanted to try it again, but there was no doubt that I preferred men. I wanted a boyfriend, not a girlfriend. Not long after, Diane moved out of the area, and sadly we lost touch."

As Sarah finished, she looked up, noticing the hubbub of the restaurant for the first time in some minutes. She sipped her coffee slowly, and studied the man opposite her carefully, looking for some reaction to what she had said. Was it her imagination, or did she detect a slight flush around his face?

"I am impressed," he said at last. "You took the challenge well. More than well- superbly. It has been a great pleasure." He motioned almost imperceptibly, and a waiter appeared at his shoulder. "Put the meal on my account," he said simply.

The waiter nodded and withdrew. Sarah wondered what would happen next. She didn't want the evening to end now. Her intrigue had increased, and was fast becoming desire for this man of whom she knew nothing. A man so powerful, so poised, would surely know exactly how to treat her. Should she say something? Maybe he would be offended if she did.

"Well, as I'm a visitor, shouldn't you offer to show me the sights?" She tried to strike the right note of playfulness, but immediately felt she had said something stupid.

He regarded her again. "I can do better than that," he said. "If you would do me the honour of accompanying me?"

Outside the restaurant, it was fully dark. She was once more assaulted by the lights and noise of the city. She wanted to ask where they were going but held her tongue, drawing her suit jacket close against the cool September evening. Almost immediately, a car drew up at the kerb alongside them. He opened the door for her.

"Please," he said. Sarah felt a moment of uncertainty. What was she doing, in this city she did not know, getting into a strange car?

"Wait a minute," she said firmly. She had been in some kind of dream for most of the evening but she was fully awake now. "How do I know I can trust you? I don't know you, I know nothing about you, I don't know where we're going..." Her voice tailed off limply.

He looked hurt. "Have I done anything to offend, to cause you concern?"

"No," she conceded.

"We have dined together in full public view, I am simply extending my hospitality. I do not tell you where we are going because I do not want to spoil the surprise." He thought for a moment. "You can be certain my driver comes highly recommended. His loyalty is not in question, and I can attest personally to his skills."

She assumed that was supposed to assuage her doubt, but it just raised more questions. It would have been rude to continue the discussion on the street, however; she had to make a decision. She looked at him again, and when he smiled at her, she could have kissed him right there. She got into the car, and he closed the door. Going around to the other side, he got in next to her.

It was some kind of executive's car, all leather seats, but not too ostentatious. She had expected some kind of partition between them and the driver, but there was none. She could see only the back of his head as they moved smoothly through the streets. Faroukh explained the route they were taking, but it meant little to her. Finally they drew up at the door of a large hotel. Sarah did not recognise the name- perhaps it suited him to remain anonymous. A doorman rushed to open her door.

Sarah could not help but smile to herself. This was so far from her world. She noted Faroukh subtly tipping the doorman as he ushered them into the lobby. He nodded to the receptionist.

"Good evening, sir, madam." The young woman was courteous. I suppose they see it all here, Sarah thought. She noticed Faroukh made no small talk. They walked companionably, but in silence, towards the lifts. Once inside, Faroukh pressed the top button, and the elevator began to rise upwards sedately.

* * * *

He opened the door, and ushered her inside. The suite was the biggest hotel room she had ever seen. An initial hallway opened onto a huge seating area with a massive flat screen TV. Off to the right she could see a bedroom through an open door. Picture windows, covered by closed blinds, ran the full length of the room.

"Go to the window," he said. As she did so, he pressed a button on the wall, and the blinds slid noiselessly open. Sarah gasped. The penthouse was higher than she expected. Below her, a panoramic view of central London was set out. In the darkness, thousands of lights lit up the scene. There was the telecom tower, and over there the London Eye, and a hundred other buildings she could not name. In the reflection, she saw Faroukh walk up behind her.

"Do you like the view?" he said unnecessarily, addressing her reflection.

"It's fantastic," she replied. In truth she did not know what to say. She did not have the words, and the tension between them in the restaurant that had dissipated on the journey had suddenly returned. Sarah thought about the bed she had seen through the door.

Faroukh took her jacket from her, and laid it carefully on a chair. "You seem tense," he said. He was several inches taller than her, and she suddenly felt very small.

"Mmm," she replied. Faroukh placed his hands on her shoulders, and gently began to massage them. Sarah looked out of the window at the city below. She was not a fool. Sexy and exciting though it was, this was a routine he had probably practised to perfection. Had a wife salted away somewhere abroad, no doubt, raising hordes of children and never seeing him. But her gaze was drawn back to their reflections in the window. His dark eyes seemed to penetrate her soul. His hands began to work on the top of her back, and she submitted to his will.

Slowly, he released the tension within her, as his hands manipulated her muscles. She made murmured sounds of appreciation as she watched him in the mirror. Carefully,he pulled her blouse out of the top of her skirt, and he found the skin above her waist. He bent to kiss her neck, as he continued to massage her back under her blouse. He was in no hurry, and Sarah found all her resistance melting away. As he carried on, she marvelled at how such a simple touch was getting her so hot.

Gently, slowly, he undid the buttons on her blouse. He avoided touching her prominent breasts directly, but as his arms brushed against them, her stomach tightened. He slid the blouse off her shoulders and traced the contours of her bra with his fingers.

"Fabulous, truly fabulous," he breathed in her ear. Now his hands were on her legs, lifting her skirt to her waist in one movement. He stroked the smooth flesh at the top of her legs above the top of her stockings. Sarah sighed deeply. It occurred to her that anyone watching the room from outside would be able to see all of this, and she did not care. She leant back against him- he was so strong- and he slipped one hand into her panties while the other caressed her breast, pinching the nipple through her bra. She parted her legs slightly as his finger found her wet pussy and slid inside.

"Oh, God," was all she could say.

"Let us move somewhere more comfortable and less... open," he suggested, removing his hands. He led her to the bedroom, removing his jacket and tie, and unbuttoned his shirt.

"Wait," she said. There was a glint in her eye. She dropped to her knees in front of him. Christ, she was going to enjoy this. Slowly, she undid his belt. Momentarily tracing the outline of his cock with one hand, she unzipped his trousers and as she did so they dropped to his knees. To her surprise, he was wearing a pair of tight black Calvin Kleins. She had expected silk boxers, but they did show off his manhood in all its glory.

Sarah loved this moment. There was nothing like the anticipation of seeing a man's cock for the first time. Looking up at him with the dirtiest smile she could muster, she slid his briefs away from his arse and slowly down. As she did so, his cock finally sprang free. She took it in one hand, stroking gently. It was beautiful. Perfectly proportioned, large but not enormous, circumcised unlike most English men, with a lovely bulbous head. She gently ran her fingers up the sensitive underside of his thick shaft and it jerked involuntarily.

She looked up again. "Magnificent,"she said. For the first time all evening, she felt more in control. Grasping the full shaft on her closed hand, she pressed it to her cheek. It was warmer than she expected, and her desire grew stronger. She licked her lips and took the very tip of it between them. Her tongue darted out to taste him. Her lips slid over the warm skin until she had the whole head of it in her mouth. She licked all round it and he moaned quietly.

Sarah could barely contain herself, her whole body tensing in anticipation at the pleasure to come. She took more of him into her mouth, her hands reaching round to grasp his firm buttocks. His cock filled her mouth as she moved her lips up and down the shaft. Glancing up, she locked her eyes on his, and Sarah was not surprised to see a burning intensity in them matching her own. The atmosphere in the room was heavy, electric, like the build-up to a huge storm. She fondled his balls and released his penis from her mouth, licking the head again and again.

"Enough," Faroukh suddenly barked. With surprising strength, he lifted her to her feet and on to the bed. In the blink of an eye, he had removed his remaining clothes and he was on top of her, ripping her panties off her with one hand, his mouth and teeth sucking and biting at her neck and breasts. Sarah gasped as in one movement, he was between her legs and entering her, his cock thrusting powerfully into her willing cunt.

He was like an animal, boring deeply into her, and Sarah submitted. She could do nothing but hang on, her hands clawing his back and buttocks as he fucked her with an intensity he could not contain, his rock hard cock filling her again and again and again, their bodies crushed together with a force she did not need to understand as she abandoned her conscious self and a darker, older part of her brain drove her desire onward.

It seemed like forever but could only have been a few minutes. Soon she felt the familiar build up of sensations. From the moment they had met in the restaurant she had been waiting for this moment. Neither of them spoke, their deep breathing and quiet moans the only accompaniment to the coming earthquake. She relaxed and allowed it to come in its own time, and come it did. He fucked her and fucked her, in and out, in and out, longer strokes, then faster ones, and then, and then, a noise was coming from her she did not recognise as her own voice, an agonised scream as a bomb went off in her whole body, convulsing her repeatedly as she held on to him and wave upon wave of pleasure swept over her and crashed to shore deep within her soul.

Within moments Faroukh uttered his own cries, a foreign sound as close to pleasure as pain, and they were still.

* * * *

During the night he came to her again. In semi-consciousness, as they lay on their sides, he entered her from behind, slowly and gently this time, his hands softly tracing her body as he kissed her neck, her hand reaching up to caress his face as they shared whispered words of pleasure. They kissed softly as their bodies moved together in the darkness and half-sleep, Faroukh's mouth and lips and hands and fingers and beautiful, hot, hard cock bringing Sarah to a quieter, slower, deeply satisfying orgasm as they drifted back into sleep entwined together.

* * * *

For several moments, Sarah had no idea where she was, what time or even what day. She struggled to open her eyes and get her bearings. The unfamiliar hotel room swam into focus and she began to remember. Christ, what a night. Panicking, the reality of the day started to set in. What time was it? How long did she have to get to work? Was there time to get back to her hotel to change? Fuck, she thought, what about the man next to her in the bed?

Carefully, she slipped out from under the sheets. She glanced round, but Faroukh was still fast asleep. The clock by the bed told her it was not yet seven- plenty of time. Naked, and not a little embarrassed, she rescued her discarded clothes. Catching sight of her reflection in the mirror, she smiled self-consciously to herself. Christ, that had been a really great fuck. Really really fucking great. She quickly slipped on her panties and bra, hoping to leave without waking him.

"When can I see you again?" Sarah jumped at the words. Turning round, she saw Faroukh looking up at her from the bed. He looked a little too pleased with himself, she thought.

"I thought this was just a kind of one night thing," she said. "I'm sure I'm not the first woman you've brought up here, am I?"

"I have no need to explain my past," he replied. "But I have not met a woman like you in a long time. I must see you again."

"I think it's probably best that you don't," Sarah was being more cautious than she felt. In truth, she was a little afraid of the power he might hold over her. Seeing his naked torso and intense stare, her pussy was aching for him again.

"No, no, no," he shook his head. "How long are you in London for? I am afraid business calls me today, but I will take you to dinner tomorrow. Yes?"

She studied him for a long time. What did she have to lose? She wasn't in London for long, and it was not as if he was going to follow her home. He was good company, and she was intrigued by him. Oh yes, and he'd fucked her like no man had fucked her before.

"Ok," she said. "I'd like that."

"Good." It was as if business was concluded. "Now, my driver will take you to your hotel, wait for you to get ready, and then take you wherever you need to go. I presume you have to work today, yes?"

Had he read her mind? Was she so transparent? She smiled.

"Thank you." She turned away, but she could feel his eyes on her as she dressed, buttoning her blouse, stepping into her skirt, lifting it to her waist and fastening it. Faroukh was on the phone, speaking in what might have been Arabic in a low voice.

"You will find my car outside the front door," he said to her. "I will pick you up at your hotel at eight tomorrow. We will go to a very smart restaurant. I tell you this so that you will wear a beautiful dress. Yes?"

His directness took her aback a little. "Um, yes, ok." She felt more than a little self-conscious again. How did he do this to her?

She was ready to leave. Impulsively, she bent down to him and kissed him deeply on the lips. "Thank you. For everything." She went to walk away.

"Wait." She turned again. "The story you told me," he said, "The story about Diane."

Sarah thought she knew what was coming. "Yes, it was true. I had forgotten just what a fond memory it was. Maybe I'll tell you another sometime."

With that, she opened the door, and left him alone in the bed.