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Praefectus's Shorter Subjects

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NewUser said:
And no one Barb was harmed in the process. :devil:
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I cannot promise that - not on CF!

Dream Date 2
“Signore e Signorina, you are too kind. It has been our pleasure to serve such a lovely and knowledgeable sposi, a couple! May I tell the valet to bring your car?”
“Thank you. Yes.” I stood and hastened to help Barb from her chair. Holding hands, we walked to the door.

I am sure that many of you expect that the next scene would be postprandial sex, with Barbara paying for the meal with a mind-blowing session of sexual abandon. Shame on you for thinking so little of her (and, for that matter, of me). A genuinely confident woman does not accept the idea that food instead of money somehow serves to legitimize prostitution.
It was only our first date, and my respect for this remarkable woman and her well-justified sense of self-worth precluded any such crass conclusion to what had already been a magical evening.
I drove Barbara home and walked her to her door. I shall not deny that her devastating figure, ethereal beauty, and sparkling personality tempted me sorely to take advantage of the situation. But temptation can be resisted. As we said goodnight, Barb leaned over and gave me a chaste kiss on the cheek. I swear to you that I found that as stimulating and enjoyable as would be any thrusting of tongues down each other's throat!
 
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A few days later, as I pondered how to take the next step in the relationship, I was pleasantly surprised to receive a call from the lovely Barbara.
Of course, she began by thanking me, far more than needed, for the most enjoyable date and meal. Then, to my surprise and delight, she asked if I could come to her place this coming Friday, where she would cook me a meal in thanks. I protested that such was unnecessary (while thinking how good it could be), but she insisted and I accepted.
 
Praefectus Praetorio said:
A few days later, as I pondered how to take the next step in the relationship, I was pleasantly surprised to receive a call from the lovely Barbara.
Of course, she began by thanking me, far more than needed, for the most enjoyable date and meal. Then, to my surprise and delight, she asked if I could come to her place this coming Friday, where she would cook me a meal in thanks. I protested that such was unnecessary (while thinking how good it could be), but she insisted and I accepted.
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An unexpected twist, the prey becomes a hunter???
 
The following Friday, I showered, shaved, and doused myself with the ever-reliable Old Spice, donned khaki trousers, a blue oxford shirt, my navy blazer with brass buttons, and my best red cravat. At 7 PM sharp, I rapped on Barbara's door, salivating over delicious twin prospects. I was greeted a moment later by a vision of loveliness, displaying delicious twin prospects.

Barbara opened the door, gave me a friendly peck on the cheek, and invited me in. She was dressed elegantly and casual with a green mid-thigh sweater dress over dark leggings and low, black heels. Her silky brunette hair was pulled back in a ponytail (I presumed to facilitate working over a hot stove), which showed off the minimal but very becoming makeup emphasizing her delicate facial features. I couldn’t be sure, but I had the impression she wore nothing under the sweater.

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Barb led me into her cozy and warm parlor, heated by a crackling fire in the hearth framed by an exquisite arts-and-crafts oak mantlepiece. Tasteful holiday decorations were everywhere.

My lovely hostess gestured to a side table with a blue bottle of Reisling, one glass, and some appetizers, "Help yourself," she offered.
“How about one for you?” I asked.
"Oh, I already have one in the kitchen," she smiled to say. "I always cook with wine! Make yourself comfortable; dinner will be ready soon." With that, she turned to go to the kitchen, and I noticed the sway of her ponytail,(which, I at least, find intensely erotic). I also observed the sway of her lovely ass nicely outlined even through the sweater (which all but a dead man would find intensely erotic).

With that thought in mind, I turned to the wine and charcuterie.
The Reisling and appetizer proved to be delicious. My hunger was spurred on by aromas wafting in from the kitchen, pork, a hint of sauce, and Rosemary. Another kind of desire had been stimulated by seeing my beautiful date.

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After about ten minutes, Barb entered and announced proudly, “Dinner is served in the Dining Room. Bring your glass and the wine bottle.” She proceeded to pull back a pair of mullioned glass doors that opened onto the said room, softly lit with four tall candlesticks on the table. As I followed her in, my attention was distracted from that “tight little” and draw to a central platter of sweet and sour pork, garnished with chopped bits of green pepper, pineapple, and onion. Beside were a bowl of wild rice, a gravy boat with a tangy brown sauce, and a Rosemary Garlic Focaccia breadbasket. The wondrous aroma entranced me the moment I entered. Barbara held out her empty wine glass, and I deftly filled it before topping off my own. We then sat down to the tempting feast.

As I spread the grass-fed Irish butter on the fragrant Italian-style bread, I complimented Barbara on the remarkable presentation. In keeping with her usual casual elegance, white linen place-mats protected the dark wood table while allowing its gleaming polish to show. The four candles provided enough light to show off the elegance while maintaining a soft, romantic glow. Lovely hand-painted stoneware dishes and prairie-style flatware completed the carefully presented picture.
 
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