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7
Barry
One week later.
I’ve been looking forward to tonight all week. I knew I liked Prim the night we met, but I’m surprised at how often I’ve thought of her since then. The curvy girl’s like an addiction, and after that night together, I immediately dialed Curves to book her again. Fortunately, she was free and now, we’re going on a date.
I’m taking her to Lalita, a trendy restaurant in town. To be honest, these types of “see and be seen” places aren’t really my scene, but I don’t mind it once in a while. I hope Prim will like it because the food is genuinely good, even if the crowd annoys me sometimes. Entering the restaurant, I look around approvingly. The lights are dim and the banquettes a rich wine color. Waiters scurry to and fro, but the place isn’t overly formal. Perfect.
I take a seat at our table, and attempt to calm my racing pulse. Why do I feel like I’m on a first date? I’m excited. I’m nervous. I want tonight to go well, and the anticipation churning in my gut is unexpected. After all, I have my pick of the litter when it comes to women. Young, old, tall, thin … basically women of all types throw themselves at me because they know who I am and how much I have. But with Prim, it’s different. We have chemistry in the bedroom that is off the charts, and it’s a chemistry I’ve never experienced before. As a result, I don’t want to screw this up.
Fuck, Prim may have spoiled me for the rest of the female population. Is that even possible, after a grand total of one bout of sex? How the hell did this happen?
Finally, I see the curvy girl walking into the restaurant. The host directs her my way, and she smiles when she sees me. The beautiful brunette is even more gorgeous than I remember, with that curly brown hair and the big brown eyes. Plus, her floral dress clings to her lush body as she sways towards me, those big breasts swinging hypnotically. Shit, is she wearing a bra? Is she doing this on purpose? But one thing I do know: I’ll never date a skinny girl again. Prim’s body is so goddamn sexy that I can’t go back.
“Hi there,” she smiles once she’s before me, touching my arm lightly. “It’s nice to see you, Mr. Childers.”
I stand and pull out her chair.
“Likewise,” I growl. “How are you, honey?”
Her laugh tinkles as she takes a seat.
“Very well, thanks.”
Then, the waiter bustles over and we listen to the evening specials before he nods and goes to retrieve our drinks. I slide a hand over hers, enjoying the intimacy.
“So honey, anything exciting happen since the last time I saw you?”
She giggles, one eyebrow going up.
“Not really. I’d say that you are the most exciting thing that’s happened to me in … oh, about a year, Mr. Childers.”
I laugh while squeezing her soft palm.
“You too, honey. I’m an old man though, so there isn’t too much excitement in my life ever.”
Prim’s eyebrow goes up again.
“You aren’t old!” she exclaims. “You’re just well-aged,” she says before leaning forward for a kiss. I incline my head, and she gently places a kiss on my lips before flicking her pink tongue out and licking my bottom lip. I go totally still, the ache picking up in my groin as blood rushes to my cock. Fuck, this is romantic and sexy, and I’m loving it.
Even better, our conversation moves naturally. At first, I wondered if Prim might be too young for me because it’s obvious she’s young. This is no hardened thirty-five year old woman who’s been in and out with a dozen men. Instead, Curves set me up with an ingenue, and I appreciate it, but I had some doubts. But Prim’s no dummy. Our repartee is smooth and lighthearted, reflecting my date’s wit and charm. Hell, if one of my friends told me he was in love with a twenty-year-old, I’d shake my head and try to talk him out of his folly. Most woman that age haven’t had any world experience nor life experience, and we’d get bored within a week.
But Prim’s an escort, so how bad can it be? If things don’t work out, then no harm, no foul. She probably is too young for me, but I don’t care. The sweet girl made me happy when we met, and I have no reason to believe she won’t make me happy again tonight.
Suddenly, her melodious voice interrupts my thoughts.
“Barry?”
“Yes?”
“Do you know what you want to order?”
I look up to see the waiter poised, pen in hand, waiting for my order. My mind was obviously not in the right place.
“Did you order already, sweetheart?”
She nods.
“Yes, I got the lamb.”
