Dinner with Caren
- 3 months ago
- 4 min read
- 1,100 views
Her warm eyes caressed his face, while her hand gently rests on his. The white linen table cloth concealed her foot resting on his crotch. He smiled at her and did his best not to squirm, feeling his erection growing in his pants. Caren smiled at him as she removed her foot, lifted the wine glass to her lips and took a sip.
"I've been out with the girls today, while you were at work," she said.
"I know," he played along, "I saw some transactions on the credit card. Shoes, I believe?"
He just had to turn her attention back to her feet.
"Yes," she said, and a shy smile formed on her face, "I know you like it when I wear beautiful shoes."
"Because beautiful feet need to be decorated," he agreed, slipped his hand under the table and gently caressed her foot, which rested against his half erection.
This is what he wanted. What he longed for. An evening with a beautiful woman; an evening where he was the center of attention, where he felt special, loved, cared for. And that is what Caren was giving him in the most expert way. Looking into her eyes, he almost forgot how they came to be in this luxury restaurant.
Three weeks ago, on yet another of his business trips, the loneliness hit Harold hard. Trip after trip, he booked into the most expensive hotels, occupied beautiful rooms overlooking cities centers for nights on a row while doing several business meetings during daytime. His days were busy, and frequently dinner was with a business associate, but there were also evenings he had dinner alone, or sat at a bar nursing a martini, while doing his best to keep the jealousy at bay when seeing a loving couple.
On one such a night, he left his half-full glass on the bar and took the elevator to his bedroom. A particularly pretty woman and handsome man on the other end of the bar who were so into each other, emphasized his own loneliness. Alone in his hotel room he stood in front of the window, looking out at the horizon and came to a decision. He didn't want to be lonely anymore. He was almost always traveling, and frankly, at home he was lonely too. There was no one waiting for him. No wife. No kids. No special someone. No one.
He turned to the desk. Determined. Opened his laptop, the browser, and typed: escort. Thousands of hit results popped onto his screen, and he started narrowing it down by typing in more search words. For the better part of that night, he sifted through the results, until narrowing it down to a couple.
Being the sensible man he always was, Harold left the search results on his browser, closed his laptop, went to the bathroom and went to bed. If he still felt the same way the next day, he would go for it. Of course, as things always go, the next day he was too busy to give any attention to it. He was already back home, and preparing for his next trip when he visited the website of some of the escort bureaus he had found.
His wandering mind was pulled back to the voluptuous redhead across from him. What's between them feels... special. She treated him like he was the most important man in her life, just the way he wanted it. Caren's loving eyes, the way she held his hand, the way she played with him under the table, showing him how much she desired him...
Tonight she was his girlfriend. There was no truth in their jibber-jabber of their respective days, but it felt real to him. Her telling him about the shopping she has done, the lunch with her best friend, and asking him about his meetings, like a girlfriend should.
The waiter appeared next to the table.
"Can I get you anything else?"
Harold looked at Caren, who shook her head and held up her hand.
"No, I'm fine," she said.
"Me too," Harold agreed, and flinched a bit when Caren moved her foot on his cock.
"May we have the check," he managed to say.
The waiter returned with a discreet leather folder, and handed it to Harold. While he busied himself with his credit card, Caren discreetly slipped a white envelop into her purse.
They left the restaurant hand in hand, and casually walked the short distance to his hotel. Almost there, Harold pulled Caren into his embrace. They kissed. Long and lingering. Exploring. As their kiss stopped, Harold looked down at Caren.
"Thank you for a lovely evening," he said.
Caren smiled, hugged him close and whispered in his ear: "Maybe you want a masseuse in your room next time? I do that too, you know."
Harold watched as she got into the cab he had flagged down for her, and now regretted having only booked the 'girlfriend experience', but knew for a first time with an escort, it was the best thing to do. Next time when he was in this city, he wanted Caren the masseuse, or maybe Caren the dominatrix to visit his room.
He turned away from the street, greeted the doorman and headed to the bar for one last drink, a smile playing around his lips when he thought of his evening with Caren.
© Marie Rebelle