You Owe Mebyeroslit©
Author's Note: Those of you who routinely read my stories know that I often open with a sex scene, follow that with a sex scene, and close with a sex scene. This story is not like that. Just wanted to let you know in advance. Enjoy!
Brian pushed against the large revolving doors, his laptop case slung over one shoulder. Coming out the other side, he thought the building was even quieter and emptier than normal. The tiny shops on either side of the wide concourse were closed, as was always the case at seven thirty in the morning. Ahead, the escalator hummed as one unused step after other rose to the second floor.
Beyond that, towering displays and advertisements in the middle of the floor blocked Brian's view of his ultimate goal: the coffee shop that would provide his much needed latte. Soon the distant lights of the shop were visible. Two customers—one coming and one going—were the only other people in sight.
Brian approached the shop with slightly more liveliness than usual because he found it nearly impossible to take his eyes off the customer in line. She had thick, brown hair down to her shoulders. She wore a top that hugged her thin body and a tight skirt that flared out below the knees, flapper-style.
He watched her fumble in her purse while he walked up behind her. The young girl behind the counter was preparing a drink and bagel. Meanwhile, the woman in the tight skirt frantically dug through her purse. She looked up at Brian.
If he was interested before, Brian was now totally entranced. Her large, green eyes were encircled by long, dark lashes, resulting in a doll-like appearance.
"Oh, I'm sorry," she said in an exasperated tone. "Go ahead. I can't find my money."
She waved Brian ahead with one hand. He was tempted to say he'd wait, but she had turned away to put her purse on the counter.
The girl behind the counter looked at Brian. He said, "Large chai latte. And I'll pay for hers."
The woman next to him looked up.
"No. Really. I'll find it...," she said.
"It's OK," Brian said. "It's happened to me."
When the orders were ready, Brian handed the girl a ten dollar bill and waited for change. The green-eyed beauty looked embarrassed as she closed her purse and reached for her food.
"Thank you. But you shouldn't have," she said.
Brian backed away from the counter with his drink. The woman looked at him in earnest for the first time and a faint smile appeared.
"I could buy you lunch to make up for it," she said in a delicate voice.
They began slowly walking toward the same exit. The woman's youthful face once again captured all his attention. After a long pause, he said, "You could. And I'd probably agree."
"The Galleria? At Noon?"
"I can do that," Brian said.
"My name's Emily."
"Brian. Glad to meet you."
With full hands, they exchanged wide grins instead of handshakes.
"Thanks for rescuing me, Brian," Emily said as they continued their walk.
"It was the only way I knew to get my lunch paid for," Brian said.
Emily giggled. "Works every time?"
"Almost. And just so you know, I would have made a man find his money," Brian said.
Again, Emily's light laughter echoed in the nearly empty concourse. Brian watched her hair sway as she walked. He guessed her age to be about thirty. She had already correctly estimated him to be in his late forties. He was easily five inches taller, although she was not short by any means. Emily's entire presence seemed to mesmerize him.
"Well, I do appreciate it. I know I shoved a five in there this morning," she tried to explain.
"Just find it by noon," Brian answered.
They passed through the revolving door and were on the sidewalk when they realized they were going opposite directions.
"See you at the Galleria," she said.
"Noon," he said.
They went their separate ways. But neither of them went very long the rest of the morning without thinking of the other. Emily wondered if she'd just set up a lunch date with a convicted felon. Brian wondered if she only did it because she was embarrassed and felt obligated. They both felt more nervous than expected because of a definite, but unspoken, attraction to each other.
At eleven forty five, Emily was standing in front of a mirror in the ladies room, applying makeup and brushing her hair as if readying for the most important job interview she'd ever had. She found herself frowning at the fact her top had no buttons, denying her one of her favorite pastimes: flashing her ample cleavage.
She ran her hands down the length of her skirt, attempting needlessly to straighten a skirt that was already taut. With one last sideways glance at her ass, she exited the bathroom.
Brian spent considerably less time preparing. He ran his fingers through his hair as he opened the door to the Galleria, a large restaurant with cafeteria-style lines in the middle and seating around the outside.
Emily, and her impish grin, was waiting just inside.
"Hi. I'm glad you decided to come," she said.
Brian looked surprised. "Why wouldn't I?"
"I've been stood up before."
They began walking towards the end of the salad and sandwich line.
"Certainly not when you were buying, I hope," Brian said.
"Well, OK. Never then. But only because I don't do this every day," Emily said. "And is this line OK?"
"Fine with me," Brian agreed. "So, what do you do? For a living, I mean."
"I'm a paralegal."
"Really?" Brian said.
Emily looked up at him. "You're surprised?"
"I would have guessed swimsuit model."
She slapped him on the arm lightly. "Yeah, right."
"One more fantasy down the drain—having lunch bought by a swimsuit model."
"If I don't meet your specifications...," Emily said.
Brian jumped in during her pause. "Oh, you do. I'm sure you're a fine paralegal. But you'd make a better swimsuit model."
Despite her deep tan, Emily's blush was obvious. "How about you?" she asked.
"Well, obviously, I'm a male swimsuit model." He waited for her look of skepticism, and then added, "How about marketing director for a bank?"
Emily looked at him. "OK. Even if it's not true, it's impressive. And I'm surprised you still have a job."
"Yeah. It's been a tough couple years."
It was their time to order. Emily got a large Caesar salad and Brian ordered a Reuben.
"Well, that explains your figure," he said.
Emily scoffed at the remark. "What figure?"
She handed the cashier a debit card—not from Brian's bank—and was handed a number. Together, they sought out a seat to wait delivery of the food. Whether by design or luck, Emily took them to a fairly secluded spot in the corner.
During the ensuing small talk, Brian took another inventory of his new friend's features. Her hair seemed even fuller and more luscious to him than before; her bright eyes were not dimmed by the low light of the corner table; her high cheek bones and thin lips were those of a younger woman; and, the curve of her breasts hinted at a body built for love.
The discussion, and Brian's daydreaming, was cut short momentarily by the arrival of lunch. But before the meal was over, Emily had learned that Brian was divorced for two years. Brian learned that Emily was single and in town for one week while she helped out on a big case.
"I don't suppose you need a condo to stay in while you're here?" Brian asked.
Emily smiled. "Sorry. They put me in a hotel."
"Maybe next time," he offered.
Emily loved his quick, dry humor, not to mention the rugged maturity of his face. Not once during the hour-long lunch did he make anything close to an inappropriate sexual remark, although the not-so-veiled invitation to stay at his place could have been considered borderline. She found his overall demeanor very refreshing.
So, she was not the least bit taken aback when he said, "If I'm not mistaken, my lunch cost considerably more than your breakfast. I think I owe you dinner to make up for it."
She tried to hide her obvious amusement in his continuation of the game. She said, "OK, but you have to choose. I've been here one day and this is the only place I know."
"Where are you staying?" he asked.
"Very nice," Brian said. He thought for a second. "There's a steak house around the corner from there called Albert's. I'm sure they serve salads. Sound OK?"
Emily likely would have said 'Yes' to Quiznos. "Sounds marvelous."
"What time?" Brian asked.
After only a slight hesitation, Emily said, "Seven?"
"Meet you there?"
"I'll be there," she said. "Bring your credit card."
Brian laughed and felt an excitement he hadn't felt in, well, two years. In just five hours, his world had basically shrunk to the space surrounding the beautiful young woman sitting across from him. All he wanted to think about was her. All he wanted to do was be with her. One more time that day, it would happen.
Time seemed to stand still for both of them as they attempted to work their way through the day with the evening's plans always on their minds. Emily was more experienced in dating than Brian and, therefore, should have been the least anxious. But the age difference between her and Brian could not be discounted. Did he expect more from her because of her youth? Less? Should she act older? Younger?
Brian never sought out women Emily's age. He knew a few at work, but their immaturity put him off. Was it all in his mind? Was he really just too old to understand a thirty year old woman? Why did Emily accept his invitation?
With all the questions still unanswered, the work day came to an end and Emily walked back to the hotel while Brian drove home to change. Emily stopped at the front desk and asked about Albert's. She found out two things: It was expensive and it was a good thing she decided to pack a formal dress.
Emily wasted little time getting in the shower, knowing that it would take her a while to get ready afterwards. Her mind was hard at work as she washed, imagining every possible scenario: from the two of them wishing the meal would quickly end so they could part; to a scene in a darkened room with two bodies under the covers rolling together in ecstasy.
Emily's hand lingered between her legs as the thought of her and Brian making love became clearer and clearer. Only when her body started to react in an all-too-familiar manner did she come back to reality and get out of the shower. She dried in front of the mirror, analyzing every inch of her body as the towel progressed downward.
More questions came to mind: Did he prefer large or small breasts? Was she too short? Were her hips too big? Were her thighs too fat?
Then another question surfaced. Did any of it matter?
Maybe they'd eat, say 'Good night', and it would be over. That idea depressed Emily. Far too often, that was how it ended. But she had a good feeling about this one, for whatever reason. Maybe she was just that desperate.
Brian was changing into a comfortable shirt and sports coat. He showered and dressed in the amount of time it took Emily to shower.
Emily opened the very small hotel room closet and looked at the single formal dress hanging at the end of the rack. She stared at it as if attempting to instill some magical powers in the simple, black garment. Eventually, she pulled it off the hangar and spread it out on top of the bed. Satisfied that there were no wrinkles that needed immediate attention, she walked to the dresser and looked for the bra that went with the dress.
The fairly deep neckline called for a small, but supportive, bra that would finally allow Emily to show off what she considered her best physical attributes. Pantyhose offered the additional support she really didn't need below.
She wasn't a big user of makeup, but this was an occasion where the right combination was essential. She spent twice as much time as usual on her face. When that was done, her hair took several more minutes to get right.
Emily stood in front of the mirror, dressed and made up, with only a few minutes to spare. She adjusted the two inch wide straps on her dress and stood at every conceivable angle to view herself. The gentle curve inwards at her waist and subsequent outward curl of her hips and ass met with her approval. The wide hem of the dress hung elegantly at her knees. Her stylish heeled shoes matched the outfit perfectly.
She was ready.
Emily's first indication that she made the right choice occurred at the front door to the hotel. As she passed through the lobby, every eye was on her. She could almost feel the gazes of the men as she walked through the heavy door held open by the admiring young valet. She let her little purse swing freely as she walked, but that's not what the men were looking at.
Brian didn't expect her to be late. Something about her character made him believe she was a person who showed up on time and expected the same from her date. So, he wasn't surprised when she entered the restaurant at three minutes past seven.
He WAS surprised, pleasantly, by her stunning appearance. She hardly looked like the same woman who couldn't find her money almost twelve hours earlier. It wasn't just the height added by the heels, or the way she had her hair, or the magnificent black dress with the swooping neckline, or the makeup. It was all of those in one package.
Emily smiled at his somewhat perplexed look.
"Hi," she said softly.
"Hi," he answered. Brian's eyes wandered quickly up and down. "You look...incredible."
"Thank you." Her natural shyness surfaced once more. "I wasn't sure what was appropriate."
"Let me tell you. THAT is always appropriate," he said, nodding at her dress.
"Are you hungry?" she asked.
He fought the urge to associate the question with her body. Instead, he turned toward the hostess and said, "Absolutely. I think we're ready."
Brian's ex-wife was not an exceptionally pretty woman. He was not used to walking through a restaurant with the head of every male turning to look at his date. It amused him, in a way, to watch their reaction to her fluid movement. Emily truly seemed to float as she walked.
They were seated. Brian asked Emily if she had a favorite drink. They settled on a pinot grigio wine. Both of them thought, individually, that the last thing they needed was to lose control because of alcohol. They would be sensible, or at least try to be.
Once established into a discussion of how their respective afternoons went, Brian had his first chance to take in the beauty of her body and the tasteful teasing nature of her dress. Clearly, her breasts were more than ample, with that splendid mixture of youthful firmness and mature fullness.
Her skin, from her forehead down to her cleavage, was flawless. A dark, but natural, tan added luster to the already perfect texture. Every inch of her—that he could see—begged to be touched and caressed.
The main course arrived before discussion of personal lives began. Emily admitted to being a fan of all things 'reality', smooth jazz, Wii Fit, and sailing. She left out her love of casinos, fearing a conservative Brian might lecture her in return.
Brian concentrated on books and movies, assuming the younger female probably could care less about sports and his favorite casino slot machines.
"Do you date a lot?" Brian asked.
"Not as much as I'd like to," she declared. "Maybe I'm too picky. Or ugly."
Brian almost choked on his potatoes. "Too picky, perhaps. Don't lose sleep over the looks, OK? But how picky can you be if you go to dinner with me?"
"I let my guard down. If you prefer, I won't let it happen again."
"No. I like you with your guard down," he said. "Please let it happen again."
"Do you pick up women at coffee shops often?"
"Not as often as I'd like," he said, watching for her response. "Most of my dates are friends of friends. It rarely works."
Emily nodded. She could relate to the added pressure of dating somebody who knows somebody you know. Without a doubt, everything that happens...or doesn't happen...makes it back to the mutual friend, with sometimes dire consequences.
"What are you looking for in a woman?" Emily asked to Brian's surprise.
He studied her for a moment, realizing he was staring straight at the correct answer to her question. But he wasn't foolish enough to even try it. Instead, he said, "Maturity; looks; a sense of humor; intelligence."
After a short pause, he added, "Wealth."
Emily giggled. "Then why did you invite me to dinner?"
"Four out of five ain't bad."
She smiled. "This is why I like men your age. Looks are just one of many factors for you."
"I didn't say I listed them in the correct order," Brian said.
"So my intelligence won you over."
"God knows it wasn't your wealth," he said.
He said, "Your turn. List all the picky things you look for."
"I like your list. But I would add sincerity. Truthfulness. I'm tired of being lied to."
Her somber expression indicated the seriousness of her statement. A brief silence followed as they ate.
"Would you believe me if I told you you were a strikingly beautiful young woman who is a lot of fun to be around?"
Emily's heart pounded and she had to stop eating. The impact of the sentence caused her to lean back in her chair and look up at Brian. Her wide eyes sparkled.
"That's the nicest thing anybody ever said to me. Thank you, Brian."
He thought he heard her voice trembling. But his intent wasn't to throw her off. He was simply stating the truth, as he saw it. The words were almost as difficult for him to say as they were for Emily to comprehend.
"I can't imagine anybody with an opportunity to be with you blowing the chance by lying," Brian said.
"Well, trust me. I've heard it all."
With each passing minute, the novelty of being with a man like Brian pleased Emily more and more. He spoke frankly. He looked her in the eyes when he talked...and when he didn't talk. He was polite and funny.
She uncrossed her legs to change positions in the seat and accidentally kicked him under the table.
"Oh, I'm sorry," she said, but the brief contact sent a chill through her body. That single touching of her foot on his leg was enough to cause her stomach to jump. Deep inside, she wanted to touch him again; really touch him.
Emily thought for a moment about what would happen after the meal was paid for. She decided to be proactive.
"What are your plans after dinner?" she asked.
"I have none."
"Would you come back to the hotel with me so we can talk some more?" Emily asked shyly.
"Sure, if you think you can stand being with me."
"I can stand it. Thanks."
Both had a strange combination of feelings after that. They were relieved that the uncomfortable situation of what to do as they left the restaurant was resolved. But, the anticipation of what would ultimately happen was palpable. Neither one of them ordered dessert, for fear of not being able to eat it due to nerves.
Brian signed for the meal and put his credit card back in his wallet. Emily watched silently. And then said, "I think you're ahead again. I owe you."
Brian looked up at her. "I think we're out of meals, aren't we?"
Emily smiled. "I'll have to think of something."
Their eyes met and the attraction between them took another giant leap forward. A day's worth of yearning was reaching a critical stage. Emily reached out her shoe and lightly touched Brian's calf. This time, she didn't apologize.
"We better get going," Brian said.
He allowed her to lead the way out of the restaurant, into the darkness of the evening. Once on the sidewalk, she unexpectedly put her arm around his elbow. He squeezed her arm gently.
"Thank you for a wonderful meal. I enjoyed it very much," she said.
"I enjoyed it, too. You really do look incredible," he said, and then paused. "But, that's not a major criteria for me, remember."