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The taxi driver spoke with a thick accent that I couldn’t identify. He repeated it twice before I understood what he was saying.
“Yes. I’m sorry, just a second, please.” I begged.
I was calling Deana, my contact with an Atlanta based company that I was consulting for. I knew that I wouldn’t be able to call while the cabbie spoke to me. I have always been too softhearted to interrupt people.
As soon as she picked up I slipped into the cab and began speaking with her. Her voice was soft and kind but professional.
“Deana Morgan, Head of Marketing, how can I help you?”
I spoke a little too quickly. I was still nervous after an unpleasant flight from LAX. I was even more nervous about the idea of being in the Southeast. My friends had warned me about the people being less than pleasant to be around in this region.
“Hello, Deana! This is Jenny Sorello. We spoke about the commercial storyboard last month…” I hoped that she remembered the appointment this afternoon. I had failed to call in a reminder. In fact, I had forgotten about the meeting because of a heavy work load.
“Oh, Jenny! Sure, I have the conference room set up for you, Doll!”
I was taken aback by the word “Doll” but I let it pass and went on to explain that my flight was a little over twenty minutes late.
“That’s okay, Jenny, we have the whole afternoon. You just be careful getting here.” She practically laughed the words. Her energy saved my mood and the moment.
“I will. Thank you, Deana!” I returned mustering a little more cheer.
The cab driver leered from the rear view mirror as he drove through traffic. His lips curled upward but his eyes held something other than a smile.
“In town a while?” He probed.
“Uh, no. Just for the next couple of days.” I lied.
“Well, the men in town will be glad to have you among us.” His eyes became more unsettling as he spoke those words.
I faked a smile and dialed Regina’s number. I was gaining the courage to interrupt quickly. Regina is my best friend. We have been friends since the eighth grade. We have been through heartaches, break ups, family deaths and tough college days together. We were hired by separate companies for the same job after college. The competition never interfered with our friendship. Nor could anything else.
“Hey, Jenny, have you left yet?” Regina chimed.
“I have! I’m here. I haven’t seen much of the city yet but Hartsfield-Jackson Airport was pretty big. It took about thirty minutes to get my luggage.” I was still speaking a little fast. She picked up on it instantly.
“Babe, are you okay? You sound like three fifteen after a three O’clock coffee bender.” She guffawed.
“I’m fine…I just had the veal…and it was not good.” I used our secret code for a creepy guy alert. Neither of us eat veal. Both of us had seen the Los Angeles dating scene. Thus, was born the veal message alert system.
“Are you safe? Do I need to call the police or anything?” She said, losing her jolly demeanor.
“No, it’s okay. I just can’t wait to see Chris at the hotel.” Another lie. Chris and I had broken up two years prior, on my birthday. I had been single since that day.
We talked until we reached my hotel on Satellite Boulevard. When we hung up I looked around with a less than sanguine feeling. It wasn’t a great place. I paid the driver and gave him a tip. He would barely look at me, much less speak to me.
I checked in at a quarter ’til two. That left me no time for food. My limousine texted me as I was freshening up my make up. I grabbed my brief case and my laptop case and sprung to the lobby.
We drove for only a few miles before pulling into a small but beautifully designed building. It was a cross between a lodge and an office building. Gorgeous.
I made it to the reception area with three minutes to spare before the original appointment schedule. The receptionist was a smiling, blond haired, blue eyed lady of perhaps thirty years of age. Her skin, teeth and hair were perfect. I was a little jealous. I was in for a surprise.
When Deana came into the reception area I was stunned by her flawless looks. Her eyes were cerulean pools of beckoning beauty. They were framed by jet black hair that touched her elbows as she turned to gingerly close the door behind her. Her frame was thin, with high proud breast, her Yenişehir Escort abs were so taught that her blouse hung from her breasts without the danger of ever touching her belly. Her hips swelled slightly to accommodate the most perfect buns I had ever looked upon. Her legs were long, her thighs muscular and her calves looked like those of a fitness magazine model.
I felt a moment of awe…Then a wave of inadequacy.
When she took my hand she shook it with a firm but friendly grasp. Her eyes had the more powerful grip. My heartbeat accelerated and my hands began to sweat a little. After the introduction that seemed to last forever and then, not nearly long enough, she led me to the conference room.
Four men and two women met us there. Deana introduced us and brought the meeting to a laser beam focus. Item by item, we story boarded, discussed cameras, lighting, editing, models, actors and actresses and, of course, pricing.
Once the meeting began, some of the nerves went away and I began to feel my confidence return. I used my same tired jokes with surprising effect. Three hours and twenty-two minutes after the meeting began, Deana closed it out with a gracious word about my knowledge and helpful nature. I blushed like a child.
The feelings of inadequacy returned quickly. The conference room emptied out within a moment or two and she finished her good byes with her coworkers. She turned and smiled. I melted.
“Jenny, Doll, where shall I take you for dinner?” She purred.
“Oh, I…” I sheepishly began.
“Darlin’, I take all businessmen and women out for dinner. It is a custom with me.” She explained.
Well, I wouldn’t mind looking into those eyes a little longer, I thought to myself.
“Okay. I just need to get back to the hotel for a bit, first.” I uttered lamely.
“Absolutely, Jenny. Your limo is waiting for you. Let’s see, it’s five forty, now… Is 7:15 okay? She asked with her voice…and those eyes.
“Sure! Yes, I mean. I would love to.” I spouted awkwardly.
The limo ride was not so rapid on the way back to the hotel. My stomach tightened and growled.
Once in my room I opened my suit case and looked at my selection of clothing. Nothing looked right.
“Too buisness…” I muttered. “Too casual.” I grunted.
I settled on a black skirt that I purchased in New York, a few months before and a navy blouse that had just enough of a V to satisfy my desire to flirt without actually doing so. I finished the ensemble with suede low heels. I disrobed and laid out my toothbrush, toothpaste, mouth wash, facial scrub, foundation, concealer, spray on makeup remover and my makeup brushes.
I looked in the mirror as I had done many times before. I have shoulder length dark brown hair, hazel eyes, a thin nose that I feel is too small. My lips are my strongest point. I got my mother’s full heart shaped lips. I shook my head. I am thin with average slightly uneven breasts. I wear a 34c, pulled up a little on the left side to hide the uneven size. I weigh one hundred twenty-five pounds. I am five feet and seven inches tall. Too tall for high heels, too short to be a long lean lady like Deana…Deana.
I turned, started the shower and chided myself.
“Just because you’re out of town doesn’t mean that you are suddenly someone else. You aren’t into women and you aren’t her speed.” Despite the fact that I had spoken the words, they stung my heart as I spoke them, aloud.
The break up with Chris had shaken me so badly that I had dated very little since. I am twenty-seven, I thought to myself. I have time.
After the shower, I dried off, styled my hair, applied my makeup, restyled my hair and got dressed. My timer sounded from across the room just as the limousine texted me to alert me that he had arrived.
I scurried around the room, collected everything that I thought that I would need and took the elevator down to the lobby. The driver was there to greet me. Within moments we were parking beside a restaurant with a creek stone fascia and large timbers extending beyond its roofing. It was already dark in Georgia, so that I could see the interior of the restaurant despite its relatively dim, cozy interior. I tried to temper the giddy feeling inside. I had butterflies in my stomach.
I stepped into the doorway and a bubbly young girl Yenişehir Escort Bayan asked if I had a reservation.
“I don’t. I am meeting Deana Morgan…” I started to explain.
“Miss Morgan! She is wonderful! Right this way.” The girl never lost her smile, but smiled from her bright youthful eyes as she spoke the Deana’s name.
She led me through the dining area, beyond the booths and into a private dining section. It was more than impressive. Deana, however, was nowhere to be seen. I was seated and ordered a pinot grigio. I heard a laugh behind me that made my heart perform acrobatics. It was her. She had a recognizable voice. It was smooth, feminine and happy.
I turned in my chair to see her shaking hands with a woman just outside of the kitchen. Deana bid her good night as she turned to greet me. She walked with poise and grace but had the spirited twinkle in her eyes of a child seeing the world for the first time. She reached out and took my hand in a warmer, gentler manner than she had at the meeting. Her actions were more relaxed, sweeter.
My wine came just as we sat down together.
“Oh, that looks good!” She cooed. “I may have one. Is it too dry?”
I sipped it and replied after the slightest pause. “Semi-sweet.”
I inadvertently tipped my glass in her direction while speaking. Misreading the gesture, she asked, “Are you sure?”
I thought that she was referring to the sweetness of the wine and replied with a nod and a cheerful, “Mmhmm!”
She moved in, lightly guided the glass to her lips and sipped the wine from my glass. Her eyes closed slightly and her lips puckered ever so slightly. I felt warmth building. My heart pounded. I felt the sensation I hadn’t known since quiet nights with Chris.
“Mmmm.” She moaned exquisitely, “I will have the same.”
She had, in that act, been as intimate with me as anyone had been in a long time and she hadn’t even touched me. My breasts felt warmed and my nipples were erect. I looked at the table to break eye contact as my self-consciousness got the better of me.
I noticed the faint trace of her lipstick still printed on my glass. I drank the wine with more gusto. We decided on our orders and both had two more glasses of pinot grigio before our entrees were delivered to our table. I hadn’t eaten since the night before and the wine was making me feel good…Really good.
As she spoke about being raised in a small tourist town in the mountains of Georgia, I surreptitiously turned my glass so that I would drink from the rim whereupon she has left her lipstick. I’m not sure why, but the naughty, unexpected act got me excited. Deana seemed to slow her words a bit. She looked at me with a new look. It was searching and conspiratorial. She resumed her story a bit, then, out of the blue, asked, ” Who is lucky enough to be your love, Jenny, Doll?”
I smiled, the wine wafting away all pain, and answered all too honestly, “My boyfriend and I split two years ago. I tried dating but haven’t had any luck. The closest I’ve come to a kiss is sharing a sip of wine from a wine glass.”
Instantly the haze of the wine moved away. What had I just said? What had I just done?
The conspiratorial look returned, then eased into a naughty countenance. A sexual lioness woke in her. She took another sip of her wine, never moving those piercing blue eyes off of me, “What a terrible waste of two perfect lips.” She said in a whisper. She bit her bottom lip an winked at me.
Is this really happening, I thought. My mind raced. Is she being innocently flirtatious? Is she coming on to me? Regardless of the I knew that I was responding bodily.
“If only…” I attempted as a recovery.
“Really, Jenny, you have perfect lips. They are like luscious fruit. Who could resist them?” She raised the ante.
My breathing increased all the more. I felt the eminent threat of wine peak taking me to a dangerous place. The decision was before me. I drank the remainder of the wine in my fifth glass and parried her verbal thrust.
“Why would they have to resist if they wanted them?”
“Hmm, Old world propriety? The fear of rejection? A sense of caution about how well an intention has been communicated.” She tested.
“If they were as gorgeous as you, they wouldn’t have to fear rejection.” And there it was. I had Escort Yenişehir given her everything. I had shortened the cat and mouse of complex flirtation. I had likely spoiled the fun.
Deana smiled broadly and gave me a mock look of shock.
“Miss Sorello, are you trying to seduce me?” She giggled and finished her wine.
Just then our food arrived. We spoke about my life, my college and my career, thus far. She listened, smiled and asked questions about me. When she asked my age, I told her that I was twenty-seven. She shook her head and smiled. “You look nineteen.” She appraised.
“May I ask how young you are?” I stressed the word “young”.
“You sure can, Doll. I’m 33 in December.” She cast the answer out without hesitation. So many women would have tried to explain or dodge. She was just comfortable in her own skin, as they say.
“You look nineteen…and gorgeous!” I gushed.
The naughty look returned in force, to her perfect face. She looked at my plate. I had eaten most of my meal. She asked if I would be okay sharing the limousine tonight. She explained that she had imbibed a little heavily and knew that the owner would not mind her car being here over night.
I was so excited that I couldn’t help but smile. “I would love that.”
Deana pulled a credit card from her purse and waved down the waitress. The bill paid, we texted the limo. He had never left the parking lot. We giggled as we left the restaurant and climbed into the waiting ride. Deana pressed a button on the console after a short tone. Is the bar stocked, Garrett? The voice of the chauffer came back quickly, “It is, Ma’am.”
She pressed another button and a whirring sound began to fill the interior of the limo. She pulled out some champagne, popped the top and poured two glasses. She handed me one of the glasses and raised her eyebrows.
I drank more than a sip. I was tipsy and wanted to be. She moved close to me. I would have trembled if I had been sober. As it was, the sweet liquid that was in my glass and the sweet liquid slightly below it stole away much of my hesitation.
“Jenny, would you like to stay with me tonight?” Deana asked with a slightly less confident look on her face. She hand was on my hand…and my hand was on my upper thigh. I had been straight all of my life. I had never tried another woman. I had thought about it. I had even become aroused when I saw scenes from movies involving two women…But this?
I wanted her. The one in a million chance that a woman like her wants a woman like me was too much to ignore. Her eyes were an intense sea of sexual hunger, need and pleading. I kissed her.
I didn’t just kiss her, I kissed her with all that I had in my. Her warm, sweet mouth tasted like champagne, her hot breath made my pulse sore. Her fingers ran through my hair. Her hands found the back of my head and pulled me into a kiss that made me lose all awareness of my surroundings. This wasn’t just naughty or sexy, this was good!
Deana pulled away and straightened a moment. I thought that she was having second thoughts. She tapped the intercom again.
“Garrett, home please.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Came the answer.
She looked at me again for a moment, then came at me with a desire so potent that I was reclined ,completely on my back in the seat. She moved between my thighs and leaned over me. Her lips met mine in a passionate marriage of flesh. She moaned into my mouth which made my pussy throb. My nipples were erect and begging out for my affection.
She slid her hands along my waist and down to my hips. She was aggressive in just the right way. Her fingers traced the length of my legs to the end of my skirt. She surpassed that length only far enough to slip her hands under the fabric and moved back up my naked thigh. I knew that I was already dripping. I needed her fingers. I needed them now.
Expecting the caress to follow the most logical route to my waiting pussy, I breathed in sharply as she touched the thin silk of my panties. She did not touch my pussy. She came so close but she used the tips of her fingernails to gently ride the goosebumps on my thighs and hips, up and down, slowly and methodically.
“Touch me.” I demanded.
“Touch me, please.” I begged.
“Now, that’s more like it, Doll.” She kissed me and was about to say something when we the limo stopped.
Garrett’s deep voice boomed over the intercom, “We have arrived, Ma’am.”
Deana leaned over me farther and tapped the intercom.
“Write the tip for tonight as five hundred, Garrett, have a nice weekend.” She smiled as she turned off the intercom and added, “I know that I will!”
Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32