You walk into Chez Charles. The maitre d' smiles at you. She's a short girl with golden hair, white but tanned, wearing a white tux shirt, a black bowtie, and a suit.
"Table for one, please."
"Do you have a reservation, sir?"
"I'm afraid not."
"Unfortunately, we are fully booked tonight," she smiles genially.
"Could I sit and wait in case there's a cancellation?"
"If you like."
It's not a long wait. A stunning thirty-something in an off-the-shoulder dark lilac dress walks in. Her black hair is cropped short.
"There should be a table for one waiting. I'm Ms. Steele."
"Of course," the maitre d' responds. "Please follow me."
Looks like it's going to be sex before food. You freeze time and grab Ms. Steele. The dress is silky soft, and slides off her like liquid butter. She's wearing patterned black stockings and panties.
You clip the panties open with a pair of box cutters you had picked up earlier and unceremoniously drop Ms. Steele on the floor. Your cock is already hard.
You fuck her right in the vestible of the restaurant. Her skin is as silky and luscious as her dress, if not more. her breasts are teardrops of ivory. Whatever. A fuckhole's a fuckhole.
You blow your load in her high-class snatch. Her hair provides acceptable absorption to wipe your cock clean.
Time to dispose of the fun. You look outside. There's a speeding pickup track. You drop her off naked in the back. That will take Ms Steele well out of your range tonight. Her dress and purse go in the trash, minus a few hundred dollars.
You go back inside and unfreeze time.
The maitre d' back is turned.
"Sorry, m'am, but Ms Steele just ran out in a hurry. Could I have her table?"
The girl turns, surprised. "Really?"
"Yes. I think someone paged her. She didn't look like she was coming back."
"Oh, okay. Please follow me."
It's time for you to dine. |