Almost A Disaterous Hook-up

I was new in town and looking for companionship and a job. There was a little Italian restaurant downtown with a help wanted sign out, which I had been meaning to try. In addition, it seemed like the perfect day to do it.  Although 11:00 was early for lunch, I wandered in. Wow! What a flashback. The aroma and the incessant chatter from the kitchen brought back a flood of memories from my teen years working at a restaurant that was much the same.

I nearly jumped out of my skin when the waitress spoke to me.

“Table for one?”

“Unless you’re joining me?” I blurted out.

“Maybe later,” she said with a wink and a smile.

Oh my God! What had just happened? Was it that easy, or was I imagining the whole thing?

“Right this way.”

She led me to a tiny table way in the back. It was scarcely larger than a cocktail table. Adorned with the traditional red and white checked tablecloth and Chianti bottle candle holder, she offered me a seat facing the nearly vacant restaurant. She lit a match one-handed and held it in a cupped hand to light the candle. I felt as though she lingered longer than she needed to.

“The special of the day is Veal Parmesan. I highly recommend it.”

“I’ll have that, then.”

“And some wine?”

“Sure, why not.”

“An excellent choice, Miss.”

I caught myself watching her walk. It was a fluid movement, but her turns were deliberate, causing her black slit skirt to flare. I guessed she was about 34, tall and well proportioned. She was not from around here but could not place her geographically by voice.

The wine and bread arrived almost instantly.

“The kitchen is running a little late so the wine is on the house,” she said sitting the bottle on the table. “Enjoy.”

She left no doubt in my still skeptical mind as she patted my hand. She stood right next to me and made body contact as she put the plates on the table. If she kept that up, we would end up on the floor in a few minutes.

“What time do you get off?” I heard myself say.

“Any time I can, honey. Oh, from here, about two, maybe earlier. You free?”

“Never charged for it yet.” I stated in return.

“Like your style, but don’t get sassy with me or I’ll have to spank you.”

“Promise?” I said shocked but with a smile.

“Oh shit! I must go.” she said as she rushed off.

The lunch rush began in earnest, and in short order, the place was packed. She served me and stopped by only long enough to recommend the homemade Tiramisu. I had not tasted any since leaving home and it was excellent. I ate slowly and deliberately. She was watching and I delighted in making exaggerated mouth movements.

As quickly as they arrived, the crowd dispersed, apart from a few businessmen on extended lunch hours.

I went to the ladies’ room, and she burst into the stall behind me. She was crushing me to her and ramming her tongue down my throat. Her hands groped for my breasts, and I went weak in the knees. I sat on the pot and buried my face in her clothed crotch while pulling her hips toward me roughly. Suddenly she grabbed a handful of my hair and roughly pulled my head painfully back. My eyes watered and she was tenderly stroking my cheek with the other hand.

“Not till I say so, bitch. What’s your name?”

I was silent.

Suddenly the stroking hand stopped and struck my face. I heard a whimper. It was mine.

Unfortunately, we were interrupted. All this had taken place with the stall wide open. The other woman was at a loss for words and my new friend made some excuse that my brain didn’t register.

“Are you alright now?” she asked. “Do you want me to call someone?” To the other woman the waitress said, “Damn cramps, my sister had them this bad, too.”

“Oh, I know all about them,” she said as she urinated in the next stall.

All my raging sexual heat ended with a slap in the face, as if a lamp switched off.

“I’m ok now,” I said shakily, my head was hurting.

She made a show of straightening my hair as the other woman washed her hands.

When the other woman left, she hissed, “Later, bitch.”

I had too much wine to drink and my head hurt inside and out. I was sober enough to make my move when she was in the kitchen. I put a penny in the middle of the butter and dropped a ten on the table. Then I bolted out the door.