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Dylan
Date night!
I spend about an hour in front of the bathroom mirror in a towel making my hair perfect. I can’t wipe the smile off of my face the entire time.
Looking in my closet, I decide to wear my most expensive Armani suit.
Hazel makes me so nervous that I actually start to question whether such an expensive suit can come off as obnoxious or pretentious, but I get that thought out of my head as quickly as possible. This suit fucking rocks.
To complete the look, I put on a Rolex watch with green coloring in it that reminds me of Hazel’s eyes.
I’ll never get the color of her eyes out of my head ever since I saw them looking up at me with my cock in her mouth.
I arrive at the restaurant early with a solitary blue rose. I hear they are rare, and I figure that Hazel will appreciate it.
“Dylan Edwards,” I tell the cute hostess.
“Oh, yes, sir. We’ve been waiting for you. Your date is a very lucky lady,” she replies.
The hostess takes me up to the rooftop and leads me to a luxurious private table overlooking the city. I see a bucket of champagne and candles on the glittery, black tablecloth.
“Perfect,” I approve.
I look at the menu while I wait for Hazel.
When she arrives, I almost choke on my water at how gorgeous she looks.
She wears a slinky black dress, red bottoms, and a black clutch with red trimming. Long sexy curls fall down her exposed back.
“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting,” she greets me.
I get up and give her a hug before pulling out her chair.
“Of course not,” I say.
“I hear this place has great seafood,” Hazel says.
“I can go for a seafood tower myself,” I say.
“Well, I see that we will get along quite nicely tonight,” Hazel smiles at me.
“I’m glad you think so. I’ll try not to disappoint,” I tell her.
“This fancy place gives you some points right off the bat,” she informs me.
“Good. Next time, I’m thinking McDonald’s,” I joke.
“Next time, I will probably order breakfast in bed,” she responds.
“You just need to let me know how you like your eggs,” I say.
“I can tell that you aim to please,” Hazel flirts.
“Well, I like to think I usually succeed,” I boast.
“From my experience with you, I can attest to that,” she agrees and moves in closer to me.
When the waitress comes, Hazel doesn’t take her eyes off of me and rubs on my upper thigh, claiming me as hers. I quickly finish the meal and suggest that we go back to my place for a night cap. Obviously, she agrees.
