The days
sped by between my e mail exchange with Adriana and the sunny Wednesday evening
when I walked from my hotel to Whitaker’s restaurant. It wasn’t far and the Oxford streets and lanes were
pleasingly quiet. The university buildings were hidden behind high walls and
the ancient seats of learning were tantalisingly visible through narrow
gateways. I wondered which of these led to the college where Adrian studied, if indeed she really was a
student.
I was given
a table in the centre of the restaurant but then asked for a quiet booth table.
When I was told they were for four people I offered to buy some expensive wine
and tip generously. The charming waitress agreed.
I was early for our reservation, so I sat there sipping a
Chardonnay and casting my eye over the other diners whilst keeping watch on the
door. I amused myself by thinking of little scenarios involving the people at
the tables. There was a particular couple where the woman was exceptionally
attractive and I had fun thinking of what she might enjoy doing in the bedroom.
At one stage she rose to go to the bathroom and caught me looking at her. She
smiled, that pretty smile that a young girl gives an older man – you can look
but don’t touch. I certainly enjoyed watching her slow walk to the services as
she was wearing a shirt top, belted at the waist and then tight leggings cut
off at the ankle. Her Roman sandals looked delicious against the sunburned feet
and pink varnished toenails. Dream on I thought.
I should
say here that I am not really that old. At 42 I look after myself and am not
particularly tubby or ill-kempt. I work in advertising and selling space
demands attention to how you look. Everyone judges a book by its cover so
keeping trim is important. I have had many girlfriends but just never found the
right one to marry. I think I enjoy my independence too much.
Just after
7.30 the restaurant door opened and in walked a dark haired woman in her late
20’s. She was dressed in smart jeans with a small jacket over a white blouse.
What struck most of all were the spectacles she wore under her tied back hair.
As she looked around the room I gave a small wave with my hand. I was the only
single place in the restaurant so I figured that if she was Adriana she would
be looking straight back. As the waitress approached her the woman pointed straight
at me, said something and strode over to my booth.
I got to my feet as she
approached and as I wondered if I should shake hands the decision was taken for
me. Her right hand was extended palm down so I knew that I should bow and kiss
it.
“Hello
Michael.”
“Miss
Adriana. A pleasure to meet you.”
"Let's hope so."
She slid
onto the seat bench opposite me and, as I took my place, I offered her some wine.
“Get down
on your knees and kiss my shoes.”
I started
at her.in bewilderment.
“Go on. You
said were submissive so show me some respect."
I looked around
the restaurant and then, in an exaggeratedly careless move, I pushed a knife and my napkin off the table.
Sliding down onto my knees in the tight space of the booth, I had my bottom sticking out and my
head near her legs. I lowered my face and planted a kiss on the leather of
each shoe and then onto the exposed skin of each ankle.
“Good boy." I heard her say. "Now get back up and let’s order some food. I am starving.”
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Oh, my!! The plot develops and begins to thicken!! lol!
ReplyDeleteHi Bobcat. Thanks for stopping by and for commenting.
DeleteInteresting start to dinner. Look forward to more.
ReplyDeleteLove,
Ronnie
xx
Hi Ronnie
DeleteThanks for the message. I will try and keep your interest.