Scene In A Mexican Restaraunt

I stared at the clock on my computer screen as it ticked away each laborious minute of the year-long day I was having. With the interview I had just completed still fresh in my head, I was desperately seeking the inspiration to put the information on paper, though failing miserably.

"Finally!" I sighed as the clock marked noon. I suppose I could have left earlier or later, but I found it poor form to take lunch any other time, unless my schedule required it. Thus, whenever possible, noon was the break I allowed myself.

That said, I grabbed my purse and jacket and ducked out the office door, hoping that someone would not accost me with a "hot story," as the recent interview was enough to circle around in my head. The elevator was slow in its twenty-two-floor descent, but I managed to escape without being approached.

My blue Nissan roared to life and I made the short trip to my favorite restaurant, Los Dos Gatos. The food was fabulous, if not strangely housed. It always reminded me of a renovated gas station that had been convincingly transformed – all but the restrooms, which were only accessible from the outside of the building.

A waitress, who spoke little English but knew my name, seated me immediately at "my" table. I proceeded to order my usual: a number sixteen combo lunch with a diet coke. I enjoyed the organized predictability that I encountered while at Los Dos Gatos, thus my reason for returning so frequently. I was, therefore, rightfully amazed at what happened next.

I took out my notepad and begin to jot down all useful information from my last interview while it was still fresh in my mind. As I scribbled furiously on my notepad, an uncommonly handsome man with dark, cropped hair, a creamy olive complexion, and deep brown eyes entered the restaurant. Discarding my note taking, my eyes focused in upon this good-looking man who commanded my attention. Through whatever kind act of fate, the waitress, Christina, seated him at the table next to mine. I watched this intriguing man as he slowly removed his full-length black wool dress coat from his thick, muscular frame in one fluid motion, draping it over the adjacent chair before sitting down. He picked up the menu and smoothed his tie over his crisp, light blue dress shirt.

I glanced down at my notes, pretending not to stare at him. After a few moments of half-hearted note taking, I glanced toward the handsome stranger. He met my eyes immediately and held them, smiling. I smiled back, unable to return my eyes to my notes.

Again he smiled, speaking, "How are you today, Veronica?"

I paused, confused. "I'm doing well, thanks. But... do I, um.... know you from somewhere? Honestly, you seem like someone I would remember."

"No... your name is on your press pass."

I looked down at my pass hanging from my neck, smiling. The now obviously-amused, handsome man grinned.

I laughed at myself, replying, "I – clearly – forget that I'm wearing it, sometimes. Just had an interview."

He nodded in acknowledgement and added, "I'm Chris, by the way."

"It's nice to meet you, Chris." I attempted to keep my answers short, hoping he would volunteer the right information, instead of my asking the wrong questions.

"So, clearly you work in media. Where and what, more specifically?"
"I work at Enterprise Media... for the local paper, more specifically. I write and edit features for them."

"Fantastic. That must be exciting."

"Usually... but today has been a slow news day."

"Really... a slow news day in Chicago? Too bad... but, if you were busier, you probably wouldn't be here."

"True, and that would be unfortunate."

"So, do you have any questions for me, Veronica?"

I paused, momentarily, both internally chuckling at the bad pick-up line, and mentally assessing what I would first ask this entrancing man. Figuring it was only fair to ascertain the same information he had of me, I asked, "Well, what do you do for a living?"

"I'm an oncologist."

"Oh?" I asked, dumbly. "Where do you work?" I knew he was doing wonders for my health, already.

"Wellington North. They have an amazing oncology department."

"Maybe it's not such a slow news day, after all."

"Maybe not. Well, would you like to know anything else... off the record?"

"Hmm... that sounds inviting," I mused, still chuckling at his amazing ability to use corny pick-up lines successfully. "What are the terms of this offer? Or rather... interrogation?" I asked with a smile, playing along.

"Anything is fair game, but I don't promise a reply."

"Sounds reasonable." I paused. "Okay... how do you feel about the war?"

"I don't agree with it, but I don't have enough time or influence to change things."

"Fair enough. Religion?"

"Sure. Catholic – born and raised. I don't attend regularly."

"Few who are raised Catholic do attend regularly. I survived Catholicism." I imitated his choppy sentence structure, hoping to accomplish more. How interesting he was!

"Anything else?" he inquired with one eyebrow raised quizzically.

"Ever been arrested?" I asked with a wry grin.

Without missing a beat, he replied, his voice thick with sarcasm, "Not since I served my five years for aggravated assault." I liked his style.

"Well, that's a good start," I said with a smile. "Okay, I have another question."

"Shoot."

"Would you like to join me?" I asked tentatively.

"Ah... the one question I thought the beautiful reporter would never ask!"

I smiled as he gathered his coat and moved to my little booth. I watched the care with which he handled the garment and wondered if he handled his women the same way. Smiling even more broadly at that thought, I bit my tongue as he sat down quietly.

Just as Chris made a final adjustment in his seat, a second waitress approached my table with two baskets of chips and two flasks of salsa, looking relatively confused. I attempted to explain, in Spanish, that he would be sitting with me. The waitress looked at me with a steadily deepening look of confusion, and I realized that I may have actually told her he would be "feeling" with me, as the verbs were similar in Spanish. I hoped he would be doing both.

Thinking about our conversation thus far, an errant thought crossed my mind. "Wait a minute... Wellington North? What brings you here, then, for lunch? You're at least forty-five minutes away from your office. I mean, the food here is good, but I don't think there's a quesadilla in the world I'd drive forty-five minutes for!" I paused, then quickly added, "Mind you, I'm not complaining. If this is just a happy coincidence, then so be it... I'm not one to argue with such good fortune."

He blushed noticeably and responded, "Actually, there's a small medical conference being held at the Rowen Convention Center, today. 'They' decided I should attend." He paused and added, "I'm glad they did."

"Indeed," I replied. "So, have you ordered, yet?"

"Yes... I think I ordered a combination plate... number fourteen? Some combination of things that I'm sure cause both hemorrhaging and obesity but taste delicious."

I smiled and replied, "The number fourteen is a chile relleno with rice and beans, I believe." It was my turn to blush, "Not that I come here often, or anything...."

"Okay, I'm impressed."

"You shouldn't be... it's just depressing to cook for just myself every night, so I'm here at least three times a week for either lunch or dinner. Plus, a photographic memory doesn't exactly slow me down in that regard...."

"Ah... I thought I heard the waitress call you by your name. And, for the record, a photographic memory is considered cheating."

"Pathetic, isn't it?"

"Well... yes and no. The food is cheap and apparently pretty good, and it beats eating by yourself. My weakness is Chinese food... or, rather, what we call a Chinese restaurant. I live for egg rolls and General Tso's Chicken from this place down the street from me. I have no one to cook for, either, so they know me there by name."

"Respectable."

"Pathetic."

"Sometimes the same thing."

"Okay, I concede."

I smiled and laughed softly, looking intently at the happy accident sitting across from me. "Okay, I have one last question...."

"Yes?"

"What are you doing for the rest of the afternoon?"

"Can you keep a secret?"

"Depends...."

"Well, the conference wasn't scheduled to let out for another hour. It became so tedious that I simply couldn't take another minute. I suppose the rest of my afternoon is... free?"

"Convenient. I am supposed to be back at work in about an hour, but it's just 'face time.' I met my deadline two days early this week and nothing else has turned up... until today. I feel as though I'm obligated to follow up on this developing lead."

"I'm sure that's my cue to say something equally as coy, but I'd rather be direct. Would you like to go back to my place after lunch?"

I raised one questioning eyebrow at him and smiled widely. "I do like your direct approach, Doctor. I'll give you a conditional yes, for now."

"Ouch. I'm not used to conditions. What would the lady have of me?"

"Allow me to modify my answer, no? Unequivocally, I can say 'yes' to going to back to your place. The condition is that if we go back to your place right now, who is to say we will have the evening? I vote that we first go to Jordan Park and then back to your place. Is that fair?"

"More than fair."

Again I smiled, as though it was beyond my control when I was in his company. Either way, anyone who elicits instant smiles cannot be completely bad, and I was far too interested to question my motivation, now.

Christina reappeared with our lunch, and had apparently been informed of the new seating arrangements. She smiled at me as she placed our food on the table, asking, in Spanish, "Do you know him?"

In the same method, responding, "I just met him, actually. But, I hope to know more, soon!" I chuckled and gave an esoteric smile. She laughed heartily and shook her head, walking away.

"I have the distinctive feeling that I was being talked about," Chris commented mischievously.

"Never," I fibbed, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Do you know I speak five different languages?"

"Really?" I asked politely, mentally calling his bluff.

"Yes."

"I don't believe you," I finally announced.

"Really?"

"Nope. Well, I concede that you may know five languages, but, if you do... Spanish isn't one of them."

"What makes you say that?"

"The look in your eyes when we were speaking. You were trying to keep up, but were lost. You likely know Latin, and may speak Italian, but I doubt you speak Spanish."

"You're good," he conceded.

"What's the real answer... what languages do you speak?"

"Beside the obvious, I speak Italian, Mandarin, French, and I know Latin."

"Impressive."

"Not really. I travel a lot – I'm bound to pick up some of it."

"I concede that much, but it's still well beyond the realm of anything that most Americans will ever experience."

"Okay, that may be true."

After quickly finishing our meals, we traveled the short distance to Jordan Park. The year was pushing on, and already fall had set in, casting the park in showers of gold and red fallen and falling leaves. The chill in the air had apparently encouraged doting parents to keep their children at home that particular afternoon. Thus, Chris and I had the park to ourselves.

I made my way to the jungle gym – my personal favorite – and propelled myself awkwardly across the monkey bars, pulling my feet up far enough not to run the ground. Chris laughed at my effort and walked to the end of the rungs to meet me. He smiled and took my hand in his, pulling me gently toward him. I watched his full, moist lips and kissed him, hesitantly. The instant our lips connected, he wrapped his arms around me, enveloping my lips in his passionate kiss. His lips tasted sweet and warm, and I moved my body into his embrace, pulling him impossibly close to me.

"Well," I sighed once our lips had broken contact, "I'm personally quite tired of the park.... Shall we go back to your place?"

"I was hoping," he purred, his deep voice purring with the promises his words held.

We pulled into a housing addition, Waterford Commons, on the north side of town – one of the nicer areas in the city – and arrived in the driveway of a large, red-brick home with a neatly manicured lawn and topiary-shaped shrubs. He waited for me to catch up after gauging the place, holding his hand out for me. I inhaled and took his hand.

Once inside, I lost track of the details of what surrounded us – his hands were on my body before I closed the door behind me, and the world shrank in scope to just him and me. He touched my face softly and guided my lips to his, drinking deeply from my mouth, nibbling softly at my lips as he kissed me. I worked to quickly disrobe him of his heavy coat, so my hands were that much closer to his skin. I could feel the warmth of his body even through his starched shirt, and longed to feel his skin against mine.

Chris stepped back slowly, placing his hand gently on my shoulder. I laced my fingers through his as he loosened his tie with his free hand, slipping it over his head. He deftly unfastened his belt and withdrew it quickly from his pants. He smiled, then, and held my gaze. "I just didn't want anything getting in the way." I half-gestured toward my bra and he chuckled, saying, "That won't be any problem at all."

In one fluid motion, he pulled me toward himself, so that I was pressed against him body, once more. As our lips met, I could feel the heat of his erection pressing against my thigh, where our bodies met. I slid my hand down his back, working his shirt tail out of his pants. I took care in slowly undoing each of the shirt's small buttons before pushing it open and sliding my hands down his chest. I felt his cock pulse at my touch, and the urge to touch him there... everywhere, became overwhelming.

Our lips still locked in a tight embrace, I sent my hands exploring his thick, muscular body. Falling from his chest, my hands explored his back, then fell quickly south, tentatively running my palm over his thick erection. He shuddered at my touch, and I grasped his thick manhood in my hand, kneading him gently. I felt his breath on my lips and heard his sigh as he thrust his hips into my embrace.

I smiled wickedly and whispered into his ear, "Would you mind showing me to the bedroom?"

He nodded, and I gently nibbled on his ear, kissing and gently, ever-so-lightly nibbling his neck. His body pulsed, and he took my hand in his, leading me down the hall.

Once inside his bedroom, I closed the door as he shrugged out of his shirt, and watched my reaction as he ran his hand over his center. I smiled and slowly began unbuttoning my own shirt, letting it slide slowly off my shoulders. With one hand, I unzipped my skirt and shrugged subtly out of it. In just my bra and panties, I approached, dropping to my knees before him. I undid his pants and removed his underwear with my teeth. Once he was nude above me, I marveled at the size of his ample erection.

He ran his fingers through my silky hair and I took his thick cock in my mouth, sucking him gently at first, rapidly building a pace as I stroked up and down his shaft with my mouth. He moaned softly, pulling my hair. I could feel myself getting wet as he pulled and tugged my hair. I withdrew him from my mouth for only a second to moan, "Harder."

He pulled my hair taut and pushed himself further into my mouth, allowing me to deep-throat his massive dick. I sucked him deep and hard as he fucked my mouth. I could tell he was close to cumming, but I wanted him to last. So, I slowed my pace, finally withdrawing his throbbing member from my mouth.

He moaned softly in protest, but I stood quickly, softly whispering, "I want this to last all afternoon."

He smiled wickedly and crowded himself against my body. "Me, too," he replied as he pushed me roughly onto the nearby bed.

I yelped softly, but before I could protest, he was on top of me. He ground his erection into my stomach, then crawled up my body and whispered in my ear, "But, I can go far more than once, my dear...."

He pulled me gently up off the bed – just enough to reach my bra, and skillfully removed it in one motion. He pushed the thin piece of fabric aside and gently ran this thumb over my right breast. I shuddered and moved softly underneath him. "Mmm..." I pled. Before I could utter another sound, his lips were on my firm, full breasts, sucking and playing with them in his mouth. I moaned and rubbed my center against his, feeling his erection press against my most intimate places. The sensation made me even hotter, and I pled with my body for him to enter me.

He released my nipple from his mouth and pressed back against my hips. Only the thin fabric of my lacy, black panties separated our bodies from becoming one. I held his gaze and slowly pushed my panties off, sliding them down my long legs, and tossing them over the side of the bed with my foot. I slid my hands over his chest and softly said, "I want you... right now... all of you."

"Good," he sighed, in reply, "that's exactly what I was thinking." With that, he repositioned his hips slightly, and with one thrust, was squarely inside of me.

It had been a while since I'd had a cock as long and full as his inside of me, and as he entered, I inhaled sharply. As he thrust inside of me harder and faster, his lips found mine, and we drank deeply of one another's kiss while we moaned and ground against one another.

By the time he was inside of me, I was so hot, I knew I wouldn't last long. I could feel his rhythm slipping, as well. I looked into his dark, drowning-pool eyes and panted, "You've made me so hot... cum with me."

As if by the simple power of suggestion, as soon as I uttered the request, my body was rocketing over the edge of pleasure, and I could feel him follow me immediately. I writhed underneath the sweet weight of him atop me. I could feel his hot spray inside of me as he yelped inaudibly. "Yes," was all I could manage to articulate as he collapsed on top of me.

Several moments later, Chris rolled onto his side beside me, and I scanned the room for the first time. I enjoyed the sepia theme with rose accents, but what really caught my attention was the clock on the nightstand. I laughed heartily and Chris caught my gaze, looking at me quizzically.

I smiled wickedly as I announced, "It's only 2:00... I look forward to the rest of the afternoon."