George: Book 01

Prologue:

George Thomas was feeling a bit dejected and he wasn't exactly sure why he felt that way; this trip was going to make him a load of money. He could only conclude that the prospect of seven to ten days in Dayton, Ohio, where he didn't know a single person, must be the reason for his feeling a little down.

George's gloomy demeanor was soon to brighten considerably, as he was about to embark on the wildest, most exciting week of his life. He would soon learn that Dayton was not a town to be disparaged and in a week's time it would become one of his favorite places on earth.

BOOK I -- ICE CREAM SUNDAY

Chapter 1

George Thomas thrived on being with and talking with friends; he also enjoyed finding new friends. He worked extremely hard to keep his computer software business successful, and when work was done, he liked to relax in the company of people he could open up with. He was convinced that this sort of leisure gave him the energy and ideas that he needed to stay on top of an extremely competitive business scene.

At forty-two, George had been married twice. His first marriage ended because his marketing career and extensive travel placed too many temptations in his path. He was not faithful to Ginny and with so much separation, their interests drifted apart anyway. After fourteen years, when their son Bill entered junior high, they had split up amicably. Now Bill was a sophomore in college and Ginny was married again, and seemed quite happy.

George's second marriage lasted barely two years. George met Charlene in a bar where she was entertaining; she was ten years younger than he was. They hit it off from the start and marriage soon seemed attractive to both of them. George had just started his own company and it was doing very well. He was on top of the world and thought he was ready to settle down for life; but his business started taking up too much time as he needed to stay involved with the marketing to land bigger and bigger accounts. Charlene became disenchanted and was easy prey for a younger, more attentive man.

George was starving when he arrived at the Dayton Hilton. He checked in at reception, carted his luggage to the elevator and then to room 505; he changed from his suit into a polo shirt and Dockers and headed back downstairs to the hotel restaurant. He normally tried to find better fare than hotel restaurants but this evening he didn't feel up to going out; his trip from Tucson had taken most of the day. His departure was delayed four hours by maintenance problems on his United Airlines flight to St. Louis. That meant missing his connection to Dayton and having to find another one. After nearly three hours in the St. Louis airport he boarded a DC-9 for Dayton and arrived at 6:30 PM. Of course it seemed like 4:30 to him so he wasn't tired, just disgusted and hungry.

The restaurant was totally empty when he entered; there was not a single customer in it. In fact he asked the hostess at the desk outside the entrance if they were really open; she assured him that they served until eleven. George joking asked her if she could find him a quiet corner and she smiled and guided him to a booth that was in the very back corner of the second and smaller of the two dining rooms. She apologized that it was an extraordinarily slow evening, "Even the bar is nearly empty."

George sat so he was facing the room as he inspected the surroundings after the hostess handed him a menu and walked away. His corner was less lit than much of the room. The décor was dark wood booths and tables with an English tavern look.

A young waitress walked toward George's table; her appearance invoked George's interest immediately. Not only did she have astonishing beauty but her brief outfit highlighted her looks provocatively. Her look was that of a sixteen-year-old but George knew that she must be older to be a waitress in a restaurant that served alcohol. She had long, light blond hair in a ponytail and bright blue eyes, a Swedish princess. She was dressed like a cheerleader in a starched white blouse and short, pleated plaid skirt that covered less than a quarter of her long, slender, tanned, bare legs. The skirt was not as full as most cheerleaders would wear but it wasn't sheath tight either. Her feet were encased in white tennis shoes, no visible anklets; she presented a gorgeous and enticing picture as she approached George's table.

The girl introduced herself as April. "I'll be your waitress for the evening and I hope I can make your dinner a pleasure. Please ask me any questions about the menu and don't hesitate to let me know if there is anything that I can do to serve you better."

George could think of a few things immediately but he just nodded and said, "Thank you, April, I will." Then as an afterthought, "I didn't realize this is a sports bar."

"What makes you think it is?"

"You're dressed like a cheerleader, aren't you?"

"No, - I'd have to have a letter on or something if I were a cheerleader."

"I guess so. -- You look very nice."

"Thank you. - I'll let you look at the menu for a few minutes unless you know what you want. I can get you a drink from the bar, appetizers, whatever you wish."

"I'll start with a seven and seven, Seagram's please. I'll have to look at the menu to get any farther than that."

She smiled her acknowledgment and turned and walked away. He watched the way her hips moved in the short skirt as she walked and his mind imagined what was under the garment. The brief conversation with April confirmed what George had always firmly believed about beautiful females. His experience was that the most beautiful women usually had a lack of intellect. On first impression April did not seem very bright and for George this impression only enhanced her attractiveness.

George opened the menu and found that a dish named Veal Alfredo was the house specialty. It sounded delicious and he searched for appropriate appetizers. He chose the escargot and found that the wine list had a nice pinot noir in a half bottle. He was all set to order when April appeared with his cocktail.

"Are you ready to order? - I don't want to rush you."

"Why don't you give me another ten minutes and then bring me a refill on the drink. I'll order then. I have all evening and I want to enjoy my dinner. -- You're very beautiful," he repeated his earlier compliment.

April smiled and blushed. "Thank you sir, -- I'll be back in ten minutes." She walked away and then noticed a booth across the room that hadn't been cleared. There was a serving tray on a stand nearby and the young waitress grabbed the stand and tray and set them beside the cluttered table. She began moving the dirty dishes onto the serving tray and then stooped to pick up the loaded tray and headed for the kitchen. George watched her work with interest, hoping that she would have to lean over and give him a nice look up her skirt. He was disappointed; the skirt shifted as she worked but was never raised as high as his naughty hopes.

A minute later though, April reappeared with a damp rag and towel; this time George got the view he was hoping for. Instead of sliding into the booth to wipe the far end of the table, the girl stood at the end of the table and leaned over it, reaching out with the damp rag in her hand. She had to lift one foot off the floor and lean out over the table and in doing so her little plaid skirt was pulled high on her thighs and her legs were apart and George got an unbelievable view of the crotch of her snow white panties. He had a strong urge to tear across the room and slam his hand between her legs, but he resisted. Instead he began plotting how he might accomplish that goal more discretely.

April finished wiping the table with the damp cloth and George thought the show was over. It wasn't. She repeated the act with the dry towel, wiping the table and giving George and even better view up her little skirt. As she stood back up from this second exhibition, a wild idea popped into George's head.

Chapter 2

When April returned to his table in the prescribed ten minutes time, George had extracted a ten-dollar bill and a hundred-dollar bill from his wallet and laid them side by side on the edge of the table. April spotted them immediately and gave a quizzical look to her customer. She set his drink down with a new napkin and picked up the empty glass. "Are you ready to order appetizers or dinner?"

"I think I've found what I want. How is the veal?"

"It's our special as you see and it's wonderful; people rave about it all the time. I myself prefer seafood so I have only tried the veal once. It's really very delicious."

George related his choices, appetizer, entree, and wine, and told the girl that he would probably select a dessert after he found out how filled he felt after eating dinner. April jotted some notes on her note pad and smiled at him again. "Great! I'll be right out with your appetizers and some bread." She glanced again at the two bills lying on the table.

"Before you go, I've got a question for you."

"Shoot."

"If I offered you a choice of these two bills for your tip, which one would you choose?"

The girl looked puzzled. "I guess I'd take the hundred. - Is this a trick question?"

"Sort of, - what if there were conditions on getting the hundred?"

"Then I guess it could depend on the conditions."

"I was watching you clean off that table across the room and you put on a nice little show for me, lifting your foot and letting me look right up your short skirt at your little white panty."

April looked a bit flustered; "I, - I didn't realize you could see so much. -- I'm sorry!"

"You don't need to apologize. -- I enjoyed it very much."

"Yeah, - I suppose you did," she said in a scolding tone.

"It really turned me on a bit and I thought about how I'd like to put my hand up under your skirt."

"So you're kind of a dirty old man then."

"Exactly, - so that leads to my condition for the hundred dollar tip. While you're waiting on me this evening I get to put my hand under your skirt and feel you up."

"Well shit! - There's a proposition I haven't heard before, - and I've heard a lot of them." She didn't reject the suggestion out of hand.

"Give it some consideration and let me know your answer when you come to a decision."

While waiting for his appetizer and an answer to his outrageous proposal four more customers came into the restaurant and were seated at the booth that had just been cleared. A man and a woman sat side by side, facing in George's direction; two men sat across from them. The group looked familiar to him and he realized that they were the flight crew from his flight into Dayton. The male with the female beside him was the captain, early fifties, George thought, barely starting to gray at the temples, very handsome. The female, much younger, was a flight attendant, about twenty-five, beautiful auburn hair, medium length, brown eyes, slender, lovely. The other two were the co-pilot and a second flight attendant.

The crew had changed from their uniforms and the pilot was dressed in a short-sleeve shirt and Dockers and the lady wore a short-sleeve blue dress, just above the knee in length, buttons all the way up the front, belted at the waist. The color of the girl's dress matched the captain's shirt almost exactly. The other two men wore golf shirts and Dockers. They glanced over at George but he didn't think any of them recognized him. It was sort of dark in his corner and they probably couldn't see him all that well.

George had seen the pilot and co-pilot only briefly as the passengers disembarked from the flight. He was more familiar with the flight attendants; Heather was the girl's name as he remembered it and he couldn't remember the guy's name. George had been impressed with Heather on the flight. She was friendly and efficient and talked with the passengers a bit beyond just asking what the wanted to drink. George had kidded her that he wanted a pomegranate juice and she had given him a wry smile and told him she would suggest it to management for future flights.

After a couple of minutes the two men on one side of the booth got up and one of them said something to the couple. It appeared that they were departing; perhaps they wanted someplace a bit more exciting than an empty hotel restaurant. George thought he heard words such as "leave the love birds alone," but he wasn't sure. The two men walked out of the room and George sensed that they would not return.

The couple in the booth looked at their menu and then talked with one another. The pilot leaned over and kissed Heather on her lips and she tilted her head in accepting the kiss.

April appeared with a basket of fresh, dark bread, a plate of margarine, and a steaming container of escargot. She set the bread and margarine in the center of the table and served the appetizer in front of George and stood back staring down at the two bills still lying on the table.

"Now, I have questions."

"Shoot."

"Does your proposition mean you get to feel me up one time or every time I come over?"

"Every time you are at my table; - if I want to."

"Does this offer just entitle you to feel my legs, or more?"

"More."

"What more?"

"Anywhere my hand can reach under your little plaid skirt."

"Not between my legs."

"Yes, between your legs. - But I won't force my hand anywhere that's not readily accessible."

The girl seemed embarrassed and her face had a bit of a flush to it. "And you aren't to try and, - get your fingers inside, - in my underwear?"

"I won't promise that." George spoke in a serious tone, acting as though the proposition was merely a business transaction. "A hundred dollars is quite a lot of money."

"I know. - Have you done this before?"

The question surprised George and he didn't respond as quickly.

"I've never offered a waitress $100 to let me do it in a restaurant."

"I don't know what to do. - I really could use the money right now, my best friend is getting married and I want to get her a really nice wedding gift. - I just don't know what might happen if I agree to this."

"No you don't, - and neither do I. You have to trust me and we'll play it by ear. It could be sort of fun for both of us."

She abruptly changed the subject. "You don't have water. I apologize! - That's never supposed to happen here. I'll be right back with the water and then I'll give you my answer."

George did not open the escargot. He did break a piece of bread into two halves and buttered one half and laid it on his bread plate. April returned more quickly than he expected her too. She must have made a snap decision.

George watched the beautiful young waitress as she poured water and ice into the tumbler on his table. When she was done she hesitated and then looked at him. He gave her a quizzical smile.

"I've decided I don't want to let you do what you want to. -- The extra money is awfully tempting but I don't know you well enough to let you get that familiar with me, -- and there are other customers watching too."

"I'm sorry that you feel that way. -- I don't think your other customers are going to be paying much attention to us. They have their own thing going. Let me know if you change your mind. The offer stands. -- Maybe we could do a one time deal for say twenty-five dollars."

April walked off and George sat with his disappointment and looked to see if the pilot was faring better than he was. The twosome were kissing lightly and conversing in low tones; that was all.

After just a minute of two, for no apparent reason, April appeared again. "I'm going to give your idea a try, but if it starts to get out of hand, I want the option of being able to call it off."

"You want the whole hundred deal?"

"Yes."

"Agreed," George answered with delight.

"If you get out of hand I'll dump a pitcher of water on you, - I swear."

"I'll try not to get to that point."

"If I get caught, I might be fired."

"Who's going to catch us? -- There's no one here." He smiled up at her and she gave him a meek smile in return.

"Your dinner will be ready in twenty minutes. I'll serve the salad in ten." She smiled a bit more brightly and turned uncertainly to walk away. "Be ready."

George opened the still steaming container of snails and picked out a delicate morsel with the small fork provided. He looked across the room to see how the airline couple was doing; they were conversing in low tones. The young stewardess had her hand on the captain's thigh, her fingers embedded between his legs, about six inches from his crotch, George estimated. She clearly had his full attention. As George watched, the pilot kissed the girl on the lips again and her hand squeezed his leg in response. The couple was interrupted when April arrived at their table to take their drink order.

George finished his appetizer and a slice of delicious bread and he moved the escargot container across the table so that April would have to lean over to reach it. As he finished April appeared carrying a very appetizing looking spinach salad. She seemed a little on edge as she served the salad, standing close to the table and easily within reach of George's left hand. She didn't pick up the empty pan but she didn't turn and leave either.

"Did you enjoy your snails?"

"I did very much, - and the bread is wonderful."

"We bake it ourselves. Our chef is very talented."

She bent over from the waist and reached for the appetizer tray. George smoothly slipped his hand onto the back of April's lovely knee and squeezed it. April was ready for something; she didn't flinch and she didn't pull away. He slid his hand up the back of her leg to the hem of her miniskirt and then a bit farther until his hand was beneath it. He squeezed the back of her thigh lightly, pressing his fingers to the soft inside of her leg and shifting them a little higher.

"There is no softness that compares to a beautiful young woman's inner thighs," George complimented. April shifted her weight and then she turned and escaped his grasp.

"You' better enjoy your salad before the main course is done," she told him wryly. She walked away without looking back at him.

George took a mouthful of the salad and savored the warm bacon dressing as he studied the couple in the booth across from him. The girl's hand was now only four inches below the captain's crotch and they were kissing again. The captain now had one arm around the girl's shoulders and his other hand on her upper thigh, squeezing her through her dress. George continued enjoying his salad, - and the scene across the room.

April served drinks to Heather and the pilot and they stopped kissing to acknowledge her but their hands did not give any ground. Another kiss after the waitress walked away motivated the lovely girl to move her hand again and she had it buried right against her boyfriend's crotch. George could see her fingers pressing into him; feeling for what must be a raging erection by now.

April appeared again and she was carrying a wine bucket that she set down beside George and a bit behind him. She stood on the other side of the bucket, out of his reach and opened the bottle. She didn't use a corkscrew but an opener that left the cork intact. She picked up the chilled bottled from the bed of ice and moved over to stand at the end of the table. She handed the cork to George and watched him with careful anticipation.

George accepted the cork with his right hand and put it beneath his nose. At the same time he put his free hand under April's little skirt, about where he had left off on her salad visit. Of course he was in no hurry as he sniffed the aroma of the cork and slid his hand up the back of the server's leg. He reached the bottom of her left cheek and ran his fingers across the little crevice there. Then he moved his hand to the outside of her leg and pushed it higher as he felt her panty on her hip. He tugged and she stepped toward him just a bit so he could easily reach around her. He pushed the side of her skirt up as his hand reached for the waistband of her panty. April accepted all of this calmly. When he felt the elastic with his fingertips he handed her the cork and nodded.