Applebee's - The First Time
As soon as the clock strikes five on Friday afternoon, I shut down my computer, say goodnight to my coworkers, and head to the ladies’ room down the hall, a hair dryer, a variety of hairbrushes, and my little Clinique cosmetic bag in tow.
I am just putting the finishing touches on my hair when a black girl from one of the other office suites on my floor enters. “Oooh, girl, look at you!” she teases. “You got a hot date tonight?”
I smile slyly at my own reflection in the mirror. “You could say that.”
She laughs and nods her approval as she goes into the first stall. “You look good, girl! He won’t be able to say no to you! Go get ‘em!”
The traffic is horrendous, and I am worried that David will think I’m dicking him over and leave Applebee’s before I get there. I try calling his cell phone several times but it is turned off. When I finally pull into the parking lot, I take a deep breath and glance at myself again in the rearview mirror, deciding that I am indeed presentable enough for him. At least I hope I am.
He is waiting outside the restaurant, looking in the other direction, when I approach him. I softly whistle and he wheels around as if he is taken by surprise. We hug for a long time, and when we break away I apologize for my delay.
“That’s okay, kitten. You’re here now. Let’s go in and grab a drink,” he says as he holds the door open for me.
We spend a good hour at the bar, drinking and sharing an appetizer, giggling and chatting. Then I become serious, telling him about the situation with R., about everything that is wrong with my marriage. He listens sympathetically, and seems surprised but delighted when I mention that I still frequently use the vibrator he gave me when we were dating to take care of myself. I can’t believe I’m telling him all this, but it just pours out of me so easily. The frozen strawberry daiquiris I'm drinking make it that much easier to talk about it, too.
We are having a fantastic time, but all too soon it has to end. David has to get home and so do I. This time, I pay the bill and offer to drive him to his house. He declines, but after I convince him it’s not an inconvenience for me, he relents.
As we stroll across the parking lot to my SUV, I tell him, “Thanks again for listening to me tonight. You didn’t have to. I just don’t have anyone else to talk to about this stuff.”
He squeezes my shoulder and replies, “Of course I’m going to listen to you. That’s what friends are for, right?”
I smile, grateful for the support. “Thanks.”
“And,” he goes on, “I want you to know that I’m always here for you.” He pauses. “To use me. However you want.” He glances at me meaningfully, and I am immediately aware of a hot dampness, like liquid silk, between my legs. He has always had that effect on me: most times we speak, I become instantly wet just hearing his voice.
I try to play it off like a joke, laughing nervously. “Great!”
We arrive at my SUV, and I unlock the door for him. He gazes at me with a disarming intensity and says, “I’m one hundred percent serious. Whatever you want. And," he adds, "you should think about me every time you play with your toy.”
I busy myself getting into the driver’s seat and pretend that I don’t hear him. We drive back to his house in silence. What am I supposed to say to him? R. never, ever talks to me like that...never, ever looks at me like that, with that expression of naked lust in his eyes. It thrills and discomfits me.
Ten minutes later, we are outside David's house, and he turns to me with that same look on his face. “All right, kitten, I had fun tonight. It was great seeing you again. Have a good weekend.”
I lean over to kiss him on the cheek as usual, but he doesn’t turn his head, so I wind up kissing him, close-mouthed, right on his lips. He kisses me back. Shocked, I pull away and he smiles mischievously at me.
“Have a good weekend,” he repeats as he clambers out of my SUV. I drive away, and only when he’s out of my sight do I exhale.
I am just putting the finishing touches on my hair when a black girl from one of the other office suites on my floor enters. “Oooh, girl, look at you!” she teases. “You got a hot date tonight?”
I smile slyly at my own reflection in the mirror. “You could say that.”
She laughs and nods her approval as she goes into the first stall. “You look good, girl! He won’t be able to say no to you! Go get ‘em!”
The traffic is horrendous, and I am worried that David will think I’m dicking him over and leave Applebee’s before I get there. I try calling his cell phone several times but it is turned off. When I finally pull into the parking lot, I take a deep breath and glance at myself again in the rearview mirror, deciding that I am indeed presentable enough for him. At least I hope I am.
He is waiting outside the restaurant, looking in the other direction, when I approach him. I softly whistle and he wheels around as if he is taken by surprise. We hug for a long time, and when we break away I apologize for my delay.
“That’s okay, kitten. You’re here now. Let’s go in and grab a drink,” he says as he holds the door open for me.
We spend a good hour at the bar, drinking and sharing an appetizer, giggling and chatting. Then I become serious, telling him about the situation with R., about everything that is wrong with my marriage. He listens sympathetically, and seems surprised but delighted when I mention that I still frequently use the vibrator he gave me when we were dating to take care of myself. I can’t believe I’m telling him all this, but it just pours out of me so easily. The frozen strawberry daiquiris I'm drinking make it that much easier to talk about it, too.
We are having a fantastic time, but all too soon it has to end. David has to get home and so do I. This time, I pay the bill and offer to drive him to his house. He declines, but after I convince him it’s not an inconvenience for me, he relents.
As we stroll across the parking lot to my SUV, I tell him, “Thanks again for listening to me tonight. You didn’t have to. I just don’t have anyone else to talk to about this stuff.”
He squeezes my shoulder and replies, “Of course I’m going to listen to you. That’s what friends are for, right?”
I smile, grateful for the support. “Thanks.”
“And,” he goes on, “I want you to know that I’m always here for you.” He pauses. “To use me. However you want.” He glances at me meaningfully, and I am immediately aware of a hot dampness, like liquid silk, between my legs. He has always had that effect on me: most times we speak, I become instantly wet just hearing his voice.
I try to play it off like a joke, laughing nervously. “Great!”
We arrive at my SUV, and I unlock the door for him. He gazes at me with a disarming intensity and says, “I’m one hundred percent serious. Whatever you want. And," he adds, "you should think about me every time you play with your toy.”
I busy myself getting into the driver’s seat and pretend that I don’t hear him. We drive back to his house in silence. What am I supposed to say to him? R. never, ever talks to me like that...never, ever looks at me like that, with that expression of naked lust in his eyes. It thrills and discomfits me.
Ten minutes later, we are outside David's house, and he turns to me with that same look on his face. “All right, kitten, I had fun tonight. It was great seeing you again. Have a good weekend.”
I lean over to kiss him on the cheek as usual, but he doesn’t turn his head, so I wind up kissing him, close-mouthed, right on his lips. He kisses me back. Shocked, I pull away and he smiles mischievously at me.
“Have a good weekend,” he repeats as he clambers out of my SUV. I drive away, and only when he’s out of my sight do I exhale.
posted by Anonymous at 11/05/2006 07:57:00 PM
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