Butter on Cream

He stared her, up and down, smiling that crooked, sexy smile, and didn't seem to be that interested. In the ring, at least. Lisa's eyes met his staring eyes and she glanced away quickly. She hadn't noticed anyone looking at her "that way" for a long, long, time.

"If I didn't know better...shit... I swear I'm being "cruised", Lisa thought slyly. "What the fuck?"

"So, how much do I get? That's all I want to know," He shrugged, "I was just going to throw it out the window of my truck into the river on my way over, but I thought, what the hell. It's money. Might as well." His eyes were teasing, his smile, wicked.

Lisa, relieved, giggled a bit. "Oh, this is going to be easy..." she grinned, and offered him, "How about $800.00? That would be $300.00 for scrap platinum, going rate, and $500.00 for the diamond. It really is good quality... Does that sound fair to you?"

"Not at all." He responded, dryly. "May I make a counter offer?"

"Sure, but if you want proof of platinum scrap value, and diamond wholesales, I can show you some websites...," Lisa added, nodding.

"No, that's not necessary. I believe you." Michael was still smiling that rakish crooked smile, still staring at her round green eyes, widening with... nervousness? Impatience? Interest? "I'll take $500.00, not a penny more. But, there's just one thing. You'll have to do me a favor. And I won't take no for an answer."

"Depends... on the favor." Lisa smiled back. He was a world-class flirt. She hadn't seen this much swagger since this side of a gay bar on two-fer night. Lisa leaned forward and teased him with her voice, "You tell me... then I'll tell you."

Michael swiveled his head towards the door. "Dinner. Valentino's. Tonight. You and me. You gotta be hungry, right?" He whispered conspiratorially, his eyes darting, "Come on...All the cool kids are doing it..."

"What?...Dinner?" You're kidding, right? That's it?" Lisa laughed, briefly debated her options, dinner alone or with this mysterious Asian hottie, and decided. "The hell. Alright... You drive a hard bargain... Mr.?... I didn't get your name. At any rate, I need to see your I.D. to write you the check. Shall we shake on the deal?"

His voice was soft, sexy, almost purring, "It's Shaw. Michael Shaw."

Lisa stuck her hand out, "I'm Lisa Greene, if you didn't already know. Nice to meet you, Michael."

His handshake was firm, warm, and his hands were rough from work. Lisa loved that. A real mans handshake. Lisa then took his license and started filling out her paperwork. Michael turned his back while she filled out the forms and wrote out the check, making a very silly, complimentary running commentary on the shop, informing her of her luck in doing business with him, and how honored she should be to accompany him to dinner, "Because, Lisa Greene, Proprietress, I'm just that damn good."

"Thank you, you're so sweet." Lisa replied, teasing, to his back, "You're just being nice to me because I'm giving you money."

"Uh, Duh. Women want me, and they're prepared to pay," He deadpanned, and did a little celebratory fist pump, which Lisa didn't see. The plan was working. He'd done his homework. He was on his way.

Lisa checked his I.D. Michael Shaw D.O.B. 7- 14 -- 75. Height 6'1. Weight 185. "Not bad, not bad... Umm, that's what? 34?", she did the math quickly in her head, "Hey," she said, handing him back his license and the neatly-written check, "It's your birthday. Happy birthday."

"Happy birthday to me, indeed," Michael tucked the check and I.D. into his wallet without even glancing at them, his dark, mysterious eyes never leaving hers. "Are you ready to go?...It's eight...almost. You can leave early. I won't tell."

"If you don't mind, I've got to lock up and set alarms and things, so you'll have to wait outside for a minute, okay?"

Lisa walked Michael to the door and turned the lock behind him, snapping off the lights as she went back to the safe, slamming the door. "I'll just duck into the bathroom for a sec," she thought as she pulled the chopsticks from her hair and ran her fingers through it. She splashed some water on her face, and hurriedly re-applied some makeup. Was this for real? Did she really just agree to go to dinner with the most cock-sure male she'd met since that director of the touring company of "Rent" in '06? He'd swept her, and Garrett, off both their proverbial feet. "You had a threesome with him the first night you met him...didn't you?" Her inner voice chided her, "You know this guy's a player, too, don't you?" Lisa was intrigued, to say the least, by his exotic, sleek Asian looks and lean, toned body, and his wicked, sexy, smirk. "I wonder if what everyone whispers about asian men is true?" she mused, and turning to check her reflection she wished she'd worn something prettier, like the dress she wore to work last Saturday. Or maybe that she just was... prettier. Period. "He couldn't possibly be interested in me...really...he must of just gotten stood up or something...Or could he? Oh, well," her inner voice said, "Don't flatter yourself. He probably does this sort of thing all the time, I mean, he's quite the flirt. He probably thinks I'll be so impressed that I'll sleep with him, too." And, she thought back, smirking, "And he might just be right..."

Michael waited in the hot, slanting sunshine for Lisa to emerge. "So far, so good," he congratulated himself, thinking of her wide, sparkling eyes, her small, smiling pink mouth, her messy golden curls and her smooth, light skin. He imagined taking down her hair, his hands knotted in those yellow curls, her lips opening up to his, her long legs wrapping around him, and how she would taste. He imagined it would be warm, sweet, like cherry candy. Lisa emerged from the shop, turning the key in the lock. Michael turned to her and offered Lisa his arm. His arm in hers felt solid, right. They stepped across the street, Michael opening the outdoor terrace gate for her.

"We might not get a table," Lisa said, "They're pretty busy tonight. I know this for a fact."

"I don't think that's going to be a problem," Michael said with a wink as he pushed open the door for her. "After you..."

The ever-busy Trudy spotted Lisa as she walked through the door and waved her over. "Hey Babe! Oh my gawd - we're so swamped! No time to talk, you know where to go..." she gestured in the direction of the kitchen, "I'll be by to say hey when I can!"

"Umm, Trudes..." Lisa signaled to Trudy by jerking her head and darting her eyes towards Michael, "I'm here with a... friend..."

Michael stepped forward to the reception desk and smiled his sunniest smile at Trudy. "Shaw, party of 2? I've got reservations for 8 o'clock, sweetie? Right there," He said, as he pointed to the reservation book.

Trudy's eyebrows flew up, surprised, and she mouthed to Lisa, "Whaa...?," much to Michael's amusement. He picked Valentino's because he knew she would feel safe here, relaxed. He wanted her to be comfortable. He wanted her trust. Trudy grabbed some menus and led the way to one of the best tables in the house, already set with champagne. Lisa slid into the booth seat, and Michael sat opposite her, his back to Trudy as she sat down the menus and informed them about the night's specials, all the while pantomiming her surprise with her eyes to Lisa.

As she leaned in to fill the champagne glasses, she whispered in Lisa's ear "Who's the mystery man? He's hot! You been holding out, girl!" Lisa stifled a giggle, and whispered back, "Text me. Later, ok?" As she backed away, she gave Lisa a big "thumbs up", and hurried off to tell all the girls at the waitress station.

Sipping the champagne, Lisa leaned in towards Michael. "Better to get this out of the way as soon as possible," she thought, and with a flirty smile, she started. "Okay, inquiring minds want to know. Tell me about the ring, or why you don't need it anymore. I know you're dying to share."

"You want the 15 second version or the 15 minute version?," Michael smirked back, his eyes locked on hers.

"I'll take the 15 second version, and if that's interesting, we'll see..." Lisa shot back with a grin, "We'll see..."

Michael downed the glass with a gulp, refilled it, and started. " I'm divorced. My ex, who is an anesthesiologist, left me for a cardiac surgeon after I put her through med school. And got custody of our son, and also "forgot" to tell me about taking him to Disneyworld, so I didn't know he wasn't going to be able to be with me for my birthday. Until yesterday... Did I make it in 15?"

Lisa studied him as he spoke. He didn't seem too upset, more joking than anything.

Michael kept his gaze on Lisa, watching her expression, and mentally undressing her.

He refilled her glass and said, "15 seconds. Your turn. It can't possibly be more pathetic than mine."

"Oh yes, it can..." Lisa winced, and started, "I might as well be honest, because in this town, everybody knows already. Your wife left you for another man? I can top that. My ex left me for another man, too! How 'bout them apples?"

Michael, sipping his champagne, almost did a spit-take. "Nuh huh," he laughed, "You've got to be kidding. Okay, you got me. I'll quit feeling sorry for myself now. Besides, a couple more bottles of this," he waved his glass, "We'll both forget about... Who... were we talking about?"

"I propose a toast," Lisa giggled, "To new friends. And happy birthdays. And fuck 'em if they can't take a joke." Michael and Lisa clinked glasses. Michael's eyes gazed on Lisa's, cocky, seductive, almost issuing a challenge.

"Indeed", he said softly, sexily. "Fuck 'em, indeed."

The dinners were ordered, the wine, red for him, white for her, was uncorked, and the conversation flowed as fun and fast as the wine. Lisa soon found out he was a construction supervisor for an architectural firm that was currently rehabbing old warehouses by the riverfront to loft condominiums. That he'd been married for 12 years, and his son, Jake, was 12. And that he'd studied architecture, loved woodworking, Monty Python and the Milwaukee Brewers. And that they'd moved here from Wisconsin when his ex got her residency here. And decided to stay after the divorce so he could stay close to his son. Soon they were tipsily trading Monty Python quotes, laughing and joking, heavily flirting. The wine and the rush of the new fueled Lisa's libido. She wanted him. This dark, mysterious, seductive stranger with the serene, sexy smirk. She wanted him to kiss her, hard, and take her home. She longed to feel his hands on her, inside her. It was so great to feel that way, again. She needed to feel that way, again. Michael was touching her, often, catching her hand, dabbing her face with his napkin, feeding her bites of his food, and brushing away the stray curls from her cheek. He liked touching her. He planned to do a lot of it.

He stood and stretched, and slid into the booth seat next to her, turning towards her. Lisa reached up to touch his cheek, sparks flowing between them, her fingers sliding over his lips. Lisa thought wickedly, "It's go time..." and whispered, "Did I wish you a proper happy birthday yet? A birthday kiss?" she offered, their eyes locking, "Did you want one?"

"Don't mind if I do," Michael murmured, his lips meeting hers. Her mouth opened slightly from the soft, urgent, pressure of his lips. His tongue brushed her bottom lip, and slid cautiously, softly, inside, meeting hers. His mouth was warm, spicy, his tongue silky, insistent. The kiss was long, deep, sweetened with longing and lust. Lisa loved the masterful way he kissed her. Her. Their eyes opening as they kissed, Lisa marveling in turn at his mysterious almond-ebony eyes, darkened with lust, Michael by her round, innocent light green eyes, wide with desire. They broke the kiss, guiltily, checking to see if anyone was watching. Michael breathed into Lisa's neck, "I'm paying the check. Let's go." Lisa nodded, her eyes bright. She wanted to go. With him. To his home. To his bed.

Outside, in the softly darkening twilight, they wrapped their arms around each other and began kissing deeply, hotly, electricity flowing between them. His hands stroked her hair and slid down her back to urge her to him. She could feel his arousal as it pressed against her, and her hands roamed his back, sliding down to cup his firm, muscled ass, moving him closer, closer. His mouth left hers to kiss her neck, and he breathed in her ear, "I'm taking you home, okay? I don't want this to end. I just want to be with you."

Lisa looked into his eyes, glazed with lust, and her lips brushed his cheek.

Lisa thought wildly, "When are you going to have a chance at someone like this again? So what if it's only one night..." and answered, "I'd love to."

Michael smiled his wicked, sexy smile again, and crushed her to him in a hug, "Happy birthday to me!" he whispered to her. Yes, he thought, A very happy birthday. To him.

"I'll drive...There's my pickup." Michael pointed to the shiny 4-wheel drive across the street. "It's not very far. Only a few blocks...It's one of those new loft condos on River Street I was telling you about." After Michael's wife left him, his boss suggested that he move into one of the model lofts of the condo development that the firm was currently working on. He could be close to the jobsite, and be there after hours to answer any questions that potential buyers would have. Hopping into the pickup, Michael pulled Lisa to him, wrapping his arm around her, holding her tight through the short drive down the busy, sparkling, downtown streets. Lisa admired the old, sturdy, building, solid brick and glass, as Michael pulled into the underground parking garage.

"Very nice, good curb appeal...I approve..." She remarked. "I can't wait to see your loft."

"And I can't wait to see you in it," Michael smiled. So close, he thought, so close, just a few flights of stairs, and I'm there. His cock thickened at the thought, the delicious anticipation of what he was going to do to her when he had her alone. He was going to take her, worship her white body, every way he could, fuck her, make love to her, make her moan, make her beg for his dusky pole, make her come as he thrust his darkness into her. He wanted to feel what a tight, white pussy felt like, tasted like. So close...

Michael turned the key of the loft and threw open the door. "Welcome. It's nice, no?" he said to Lisa, "What do you think?" Michael took off his shoes and started to pull off his socks, throwing them as he walked and talked, pointing out the architectural details. Lisa took in the 14 foot ceilings, the huge windows, the worn, lovely, original wood floors and exposed brick.

"It's really nice, wow, even a fireplace. I'm impressed!" Lisa sighed, "Totally."

"It's gas," Michael said, picked up a remote, and started the fire instantly. "Make yourself at home. There's beer or soda or water in the fridge. The remotes for the TV are on the coffee table," He peeled his shirt over his head, revealing a toned, hairless chest, a permanent tan and six-pack abs, grinned, and threw it at Lisa. "I'm taking a shower. If you want to join me..." his voice trailed after him as he disappeared down a hall.

Lisa, hearing the water splashing as Michael showered, walked around the loft slowly, taking in the lovely view of the city lights through the floor-to ceiling windows, "Am I really here?" she thought, somewhat naughtily, "In the loft of a guy who I just met 3 hours ago? A gorgeous... Asian guy?" Lisa felt her body glow, her libido rising, as she thought about his kisses, the way he held her, caressed her, the look of his dark golden body, toned and sleek, like a jungle cat. And that he was showering for her, right now, nude and hard, 20 feet away from her. He wanted her. And she wanted him. "Even if it's only for tonight," She thought, and then Lisa decided, as she dug out a bottle of water from the fridge, if she was nothing but a pick-up, a one-night-stand, she was going to leave him with a one-night-stand this mysterious Asian playboy would never forget. She'd use every trick she'd ever learned, every wanton move Garrett and all their fuck-buddies had taught her. And they taught her well. She might never see him again, and she might only be one of many, but she would make sure he would never forget this particular white girl. Lisa had always fantasized about Asian men, with their dark, golden skin and exotic, tilted, eyes, but had never had the chance to bed any before. She might be one of many to him, but to her, he was an exotic taboo that she needed to break. He was going to be her first, her first Asian, first man, her first real man, for what seemed like forever, for years. Her long dry spell was over.

Lisa picked up the big screen TV remote and clicked it on. It was tuned to a classic rock music channel, Led Zepplin, or something like that, slow and sexy, bluesy, psychedelia. Lisa, still standing, began swaying to the throbbing beat, the wailing guitar chords. The music, the wine, the electric anticipation, flowed through her as she moved sensuously to the beat. She loved to dance. Spinning slowly around, her arms stretching over her head, her hips moving like a belly dancer's, she closed her eyes. "Mmmm...magical fuck music..." She mused, "Oh, the things I'm going to do to him..." Opening her eyes, she smiled, as she turned to see Michael, wearing nothing but a pair of old, worn, faded jeans, his hair wet and shining, watching her with that seductive smirk. His eyes met hers, his nostrils flaring, as his surveyed her suggestive, sexual dancing. He was breathing deeply, his chest heaving slightly. Lisa danced over to him, tossing her hair, beckoning him close.

He reached for her, and Lisa, taking his hand, danced around him like he was a stripper's pole, rubbing up and down, teasing him with her eyes and hips, stroking his hair, letting her fingers trail down his toned, sinewy arms and chest. He pulled her close, unable to resist the impromptu lapdance any longer, his hands knotting in her long curls as his mouth met hers, hard. His tongue was forceful in her mouth, probing, his hands holding her face to his. Lisa broke the kiss, her lips throbbing, her mouth wet from his, her lips nuzzling, then, licking his neck. He smelled so good, so clean, lightly musky, like soap and spice. "Michael..." she started, her eyes teasing, "Do you want me? I want you. I want to please you... Let me..."

Michael's eyes, heavy, tilted, bedroom eyes, gazed down at hers. "Oh baby..." he spoke softly, "Pretty baby..."

Lisa shook his hands from her hair, her wide eyes locked on his, "I'm going to show you just how much I want you, how fucking hot you are, how much you make me..."

Lisa's lips began to trail down his neck, licking and rubbing, nuzzling, stopping at the hollow of his collarbone, down to his firm, hairless, chest, her hands stroking his pecs, sliding over his small, brown, oval nipple. It stiffened at her touch, and Lisa bent her head down to take the other in her mouth, her tongue darting against it softly. Michael threw his head back, a small moan escaping from his lips involuntarily, He'd never felt a woman's mouth on his nipples before, and he liked it. His obvious pleasure spurred Lisa on to suck it into her mouth, her tongue swirling over his stiffening tip. Her hand applied more pressure to the other nipple, sliding it between her fingers until it was erect.

His hands, stroking her back, her hair, crushed her mouth to his chest tightly as he ground his hips into her. She could feel his hard cock through his jeans, grinding, involuntarily thrusting against her. She wrapped her free arm around his waist to steady herself as she continued to lick and suck his dark oval nipples, turning from one to another, her eyes open and gazing up at his face, which was glowing with pleasure.