I nod, reaching for the chocolate ice cream. I don't eat ice cream that much, and so I can't help but think that she's right.
"So what would you do?" she asks. "If you weren't CEO. I mean...do you like your job? Or do you wish you could do something else?"
Laughing softly, I dab some whipped cream on top of my ice cream. "I wish someone had asked me that when I took over the company."
Her eyes go wide. "Really?"
"Really," I say. "I don't hate my job. I like our company and what it does. We do a lot of good charity work on the side of the greeting card business, and I love when I can expand that. But if I had a choice to do anything, I'd pick something simple and physical. When you do this kind of job, where relationships are talking to people all day are the staple, there's something nice in thinking about being a house painter, or something that I could leave behind at the end of the day. But as far as hobbies go, I like clay."
Sally perks up, curious. "Clay?"
"I took some ceramics and clay throwing classes when I was in college, and I always really enjoyed it. Not only is it an artistic outlet, it’s actually a workout. I try to do it sometimes still, but there's not a lot of time to take away for that kind of thing."
"That's really cool," she says. "Do you have anything you've made that you kept?"
"I have one thing," I say. "I have a bowl that I made and glazed in my first class. It is objectively terrible, but I still use it."
She smiles, and it's a huge, real smile. "I want to see it sometime."
"You'll just have to come over to my place, I guess." I say it lightly, like it's not a big thing. But both of us know that that that's not true. It would be a very big thing.
Sally smiles and grabs some chocolate sauce to go with her vanilla and strawberry ice cream. "I guess I'll have to."
We fall into a comfortable pattern of conversation, trading facts about our lives and families, the way people on a first date might. It's almost like today is the first time we've met, and the club and the dress shop never happened. It feels like this should have come first. But it didn't, and every fact she reveals about herself only makes me like her more. Sally is very grounded and down to earth, even if she's too down on herself.
Some time I'll ask why, and ask if maybe the reason she doesn't think she's worth time and effort has anything to do with past relationships. But now isn't the time for that. We're having too much fun, and I'm getting stuffed with sugar.
Sally lifts her spoon to her mouth and some whipped cream gets stuck on her nose. Instinctively I reach forward and wipe it away with my thumb, and it's like a barrier has been broken. We haven't touched each other since we sat down, and the appropriate distance of the questions we've been asking put space between us. But wiping away that little bit of cream makes me think of wiping it away differently. Licking it away. And that spirals into thoughts about Sally naked wearing nothing but whipped cream.
God, I'm hard again, and the way Sally is looking at me speaks of thoughts that aren't at all innocent.
"What are you thinking about?" I ask her.
Pink flushes her cheeks. "I don't want to say."
I grin. "That makes me want to know even more."
"I was thinking that I would have rather you used your mouth to do that instead of your thumb."
"I was thinking the same thing," I say, leaning forward to dip my finger in the remaining chocolate sauce. "I could tell you what else I was thinking."
She clears her throat and takes a sip of water, and I smile again. "Please do."
"I was thinking about having you naked with nothing but whipped cream covering your nipples," I say, watching as her pupils dilate and her chest starts to rise and fall faster. "Now I'm thinking about how I could take this chocolate sauce," I lift my finger out of it so it's dripping and lift it to my mouth, "and spread it across your clit before making you come using nothing but my tongue."
Sally takes another sip of water, and she's not meeting my eyes. But her free hand is gripping the table, fingers flexing like I've shocked her and she's trying to hold on.
"I have very good tongue skills, Sally."
"Oh?" she says, voice low. "Prove it."
There's still some cherries in the bowl on the table, and I grab one, picking the stem from it. I put the stem into my mouth and quickly execute the maneuver that I practiced for hours as a teenager, and which has definitely benefited my sex life as an adult. When I open my mouth and pull out the stem, it's twisted around itself in a perfect knot.
I can see Sally's throat move as she swallows. "That does prove it," she says. Her hands drift over the table, and she picks up the remaining half of a banana, and she holds my eyes as she dips that damned piece of fruit in chocolate sauce. Shit. I know what she's going to do and I just went from being hard to being hard. She looks nervous, but determined, and I'm so damn proud of her I could shout. She's out of her comfort zone, and yet she still wants to keep going, wants more. I want to give her more.
"I like chocolate too," she says, putting the tip of the banana into her mouth. Watching her clean that banana off is one of the sexiest things I've ever seen, because chocolate is pooling at the edges of her lips, and it makes me think of what she would look like on her knees, with something very far from chocolate on her lips. And it's also immediately apparent that she's never given a blow job before.
I didn't think that would be a first that I could share with her, but I want that like a fire wants to consume whatever is in its path. Sally closes her eyes, and I hope she's imagining what it's going to be like to have my cock between her lips, because that's certainly what I'm thinking about. And then a thought comes, and I have to know. "Sally," I say softly. She looks at me. "Have you ever seen a cock before?"
This blush isn't like the rest of them, fiery red painting across her face and chest and telling me what I need to know before she even speaks. "No. I mean...I've always wanted to try that, but I never got far enough—I mean. I'm sorry. The whole virgin thing kind of got in the way usually."
"The men that you've been with before are idiots," I say flatly. "For thinking that you weren't worth their time just because you hadn't done something before."
She tilts her head, her face suddenly playful and curious. "So you'd let me do that?"
There's no blood in my brain. It's all in my cock, and I'm going to have to seriously think about something else if I'm going to get out of this restaurant without drawing unwanted attention.
I haven't said anything, and she keeps going. "You gave me such a great orgasm, and I've always wanted to try that, to know if I'd be good at it. I like the thought of giving someone pleasure like that."
"Sally," I say, stopping her before she can say more. "Are you saying that you want to suck my cock?"
She flushes again and swallows. "Yes."
I stare at her, not actually believing this, but unable to say no. This is a fantasy come to life, and I don't want to take advantage of her. But at the same time, I don't want to turn her down, to make her feel inadequate when that's all men have done to her. "There's no obligation," I say to her. "This isn't something that I'm expecting or asking. If you want to experiment with me, I'm all for it. But I don't want you to feel pressured in any way."
"I want to do more than this with you," she blurts out. "But I know that everything can't happen at once. I want to."
I raise my hand and catch the waiter's attention. "Check, please."