By Girl Next Door

Benny
$1500

I meet him at Absinthe in Hayes Valley. I wear the black Diane von Furstenburg wrap dress with the super low neckline and the long Van Cleef & Arpels silver chain that hangs to my navel and nestles just in between my breasts. He asked me to wear the red D&G shoes he bought me, so I do, although they are a size too small and hurt my feet. I think he secretly knows that and likes to walk a bit faster than me, forcing my tiny Geisha steps to keep his pace.

He seems to know the chef well and has her send out a six-course tasting menu, a different glass of wine appearing with every course.  I drink slowly but he’s watching and although I don’t like to get drunk I can tell that’s what he’s wants. He rubs my back, my shoulders and kisses me on the head twice when he gets up to go to the bathroom. We talk at length about his fiancé, how beautiful she is and why he’s so unhappy.  As he speaks of her his hand wanders up my thigh to between my legs and he begins to rub my panties. The restaurant is crowded and though I am a bit embarrassed I never take my eyes off him.

He keeps a small apartment not far from the restaurant that I’ve been to twice. From the lack of personal effects, it doesn’t appear that he lives there although the closets are full. While he’s in the shower, I strip down into a black lace La Perla thong, leave the necklace on and wait for him on the fur spread covering his bed.

He likes to take me from behind and as usual quickly flips me over onto my stomach. I try to open my legs but he pushes them back together. I think he must like the friction of his dick sliding in between them. Although he tells me I’m beautiful he rarely looks at me once sex has begun.  I make the general moans although for him I keep them quiet in a sweet, pleased attempt at seeming docile.  He whispers in my ear stories of how he’s going to come in my mouth. It’s the same speech every time. At first I was worried it would happen but now I know if I wiggle my hips a little more at just the right moment, he won’t be able to wait.

It works and he falls, sweaty on my back. He lies there for a moment then walks to the bathroom and once again I hear the shower. I made the mistake once of staying and quickly learned this little bathroom trip was a polite way of asking me to leave. I dress and exit quickly walking back to the restaurant to grab a cab. Not 10 minutes later I get a text, “Your smell is still on me. When can I see you again?”