Restaurant Encounter

I sat down at the restaurant around 9pm. A late dinner, for sure, but there wasn't much else to do in this town except work. Almost no one was left in the place. The wait staff was congregating near the kitchen, and the bartender was cleaning up. Dullsville, that's for sure, but at least the steak wasn't half bad.

The door opened and a woman barged in, walked up to the bar, and ordered a drink. I didn't hear what it was but it appeared to be double shot of something, from the brief glance I got before she poured it down her throat. She then slammed the glass down and demanded another one. She tried to sit down on a bar stool but that's where she put her purse. Frustrated, she picked up her purse and threw it across the room, landing near my table and spilling out some of its contents. She sat down and drank her drink with tears welling in her eyes.

I picked up the purse, put everything back in and walked it over to her. She was not half bad looking if you got past the mascara running down her face. She was in her mid-30's but the odd thing was she was wearing a long coat - quite odd for an evening hovering near 70. "What's wrong?" I asked.

"My goddamn bastard asshole husband, that's what. He doesn't give a shit about me anymore. I guess I'm miss fat & ugly to him." That's a crock, I thought to myself. She had just the right amount of curves. And she sure as hell wasn't ugly. She continued, "I set up a whole evening set up with candlelight and he flips on the TV while I'm trying to do a - ah, um - my plan." If I had to guess, the word she tripped up on was striptease. She went on to tell me how more details that I cared to hear about. Her husband had lost his sex drive and what sex there was had become dull and boring over 10 years of marriage. This was kind of a last ditch effort spice it up a bit.

I replied, "Well, I think you are a very, very attractive woman. If you'd like to continue your plans with me tonight, I'm game."

"In your dreams," she replied.

"Yes, that's definitely true. But if you change your mind, I can be found in room 1204 next door." I walked out and went back to my room. After about 15 minutes, I heard a knock at the door. It was her, face cleaned up with a determined look on it.

"If you can get me some music and sit down, you'll have the time of your life," she promised. I found an mp3 on my computer that fit the mood. Piping it through the speakers wasn't the best but it was all I could do. "Good enough" she said and dropped her coat, revealing a red lace bandeau top hiding her c-cup breasts and matching red lace boy shorts. This woman wasn't fat. Sure, she had some more weight than a near-anorexic model, but what she had accentuated her womanly figure. My cock started indicated its approval as she gyrated to the music.

She unhooked the back of her top, holding it still above her breasts and she leaned in toward my face. I reached my hand up and she shook her head and said "Do not touch". I couldn't stop staring at her cleavage, however, until she finally threw her top aside, revealing two gorgeous breasts. She licked the top of them and tweaked her nipples, still dancing. Then she turned around, gyrating her lovely ass in my face. By now my cock was straining in my pants. I reached down and unzipped myself. She heard it.

"I said, do not touch. It goes for that, too." She bent over and touched the floor, still wiggling her ass. I could see her freshly-shaved pussy glistening with wetness. Her finger came up to play with her clit. She turned around, grabbed my hands and placed them on her breasts. "Suck 'em" she commanded what she ground herself on my knee. I sucked - hard. This was no time to be gentle. She was on fire, breathing heavy and lost in passion. Thankfully she freed my cock from its imprisonment and sat down almost immediately on it, enveloping me with her wetness. "For God sake, don't stop sucking." She rode my cock hard as I barely held on to her tits. I could feel her pussy juice soaking my pants as she screamed in orgasm, taking me over the edge with her before collapsing on top of me.

I think we both passed out for a few minutes before she got up and put on her coat. She handed me the red lace outfit with a kiss, "keep these for a souvenir" she said. She leaned over and scribbled her email address down on the paper by the phone. "Let me know when you are in town again," she said as she walked out the door. But that's a story for another time.