Cindy's Training Ch. 01

When she did take a tentative sip of her drink, she found it a tasty mix of fruit and spice. She could easily identify the orange and cherry flavors, but the other taste teased her palate momentarily until she realized that it was ginger. The soda must be ginger ale, she reasoned. She wondered what the liquor in it was. She didn't taste anything familiar, but, she realized, there were probably lots of liquors that she wouldn't recognize. The drink slipped down her throat easily, but her head told her to be very careful. The last thing she wanted was to get ill in a posh place like this.

Frankie was reciting the dinner specials for the evening. When she got to the broiled flounder stuffed with crabmeat, Cindy's eyes lit up. She didn't need to do more, because Ron held up his hand to stop Frankie's patter.

"The lady will have the fish with the rice pilaf and brocc…" He paused when Cindy wrinkled her nose. "Can she have the vegetable medley instead of the broccoli?" Cindy beamed her approval.

"Certainly, Sir."

"OK. I'll have the prime rib with the baked potato and broccoli. You know how I like it, don't you?"

"Yes, sir."

"And, we'll have the raspberry vinaigrette on the salads, please."

"Right away, Sir." She cleared the menus and disappeared.

Cindy mimed her awe of the surroundings and then tilted her head quizzically. Ron understood her question and replied, "One of the benefits of working at Parker, Hunter and James. All the full time attorneys get a club membership as part of the employment package. The partners are all avid golfers and go to great lengths to support the club."

She then raised her arm, made a motion as if she were swinging a tennis racket and tilted her head again. "I'd love to, Pet, but the doctor that reconstructed my knee in college told me that if I ever came back for another repair as a result of any athletic competition, the next operation would be done without anesthetic. I'm now pretty much limited to biking, swimming and golf. I might be able to get you into some of the club competitions, but it won't be against me." Cindy made an exaggerated pouting face and pretended to wipe a tear from her eye. She was beginning to enjoy the silent communication game.

Just as she was preparing to act out another question, the salads and fresh bread arrived. Ron waited for her as she bowed her head and said a silent blessing over the meal. When she had finished, they proceeded to eat with gusto. The salad servings were overly generous and she pushed hers aside when it was only half eaten, saving room for the main course. Before he had finished his salad, Frankie was again unloading her serving tray. Cindy was appalled to see that the thick slab of beef on his plate was almost raw. When she was growing up, meat served at her family's dining table had always been well done. His wasn't just a little pink, the center of the cut was red! Ron glanced up to catch her staring at his dinner with her mouth agape.

"How's the fish, Pet?" he asked as he cut himself a bite of the prime rib.

Snatched back to her senses, Cindy almost blundered by mumbling a standard response, barely catching herself at the last moment. She snapped her mouth shut, abruptly glancing up at him with a look of fear in her eye. Revolted, she watched as he put the piece of raw meat into his mouth and let his face relax into a look of delight. Ordering her stomach to calm down, she turned her attention to the properly cooked flounder. It was delicious. Delicately seasoned and absolutely scrumptious. Both the fish and the stuffing meats were moist and flavorful. After enjoying a few forkfuls, she looked back up at him and let the broad grin on her beaming face answer his question.

"I'm glad you like it. The food here has always been excellent."

Both of them ate heartily. Cindy was surprised at how hungry she was. Her dining opportunities during the recent stakeout had been limited to sandwiches and an occasional burger, so she wasn't in danger of rupturing a uniform seam with her indulgence. The crispy crusted bread and real butter that Frankie had served them disappeared along with every morsel on her plate. As she leaned back into the comfortably padded booth seat and relaxed after the lovely meal, she realized that she had even finished most of her drink.

Oh, no! I'll never be able to waddle in a straight line after this.

She watched him dip his last bit of bread into the juices on his plate and pop it into his mouth with a satisfied smile. He looked up at her and grinned. "Mmmmmm, good." She energetically nodded her head in agreement. They sat there for a few moments, staring deeply into each other's eyes before Frankie appeared at the table again.

"Was everything to your liking? Care for anything for dessert? We have…"

Ron held up his hand and answered, "I don't think we could possibly find room for another bite right now. Could we possibly come back a bit later?"

"I sorry sir, but we'll be closing the dining room in just a few minutes. But, if you're in the lounge later and you would like something, the bartender has access to the kitchen refrigerators."

"That sounds like a plan," Ron said as he wrote the amount of the tip and signed the chit that she had presented him. "Do you have any idea what is happening in the lounge tonight?"

"Oh, yes. I heard the managers talking about a new trio that they are auditioning. They asked them to come in and play a gig tonight as a trial run. I hear that they are quite good."

"We'll have to see. I hope that they can play something that normal people can dance to."

"Wow. Dinner and dancing? I must really be doing something right. I hope the alcohol doesn't make me feel too giddy."

Cindy's eyes were gleaming when he turned his attention back to her. He slipped out of the booth and offered her his hand. She took it with a coquettish smile and slid across the seat to her feet. Firmly grasping his proffered arm, she let her hip brush against his as they walked across the room. This time she carefully ignored the leering Maitre d'. She realized that she always seemed to feel comfortable when she was this close to him. So close. Ron guided her down the fancy hallway for a short way and turned her to the left through the next door.

I wonder if it's all the alcohol that is making me feel lightheaded.

She casually looked around the dimly lit lounge, paneled in dark wood and dominated by a bar that ran almost the length of the room. A few booths lined the opposite wall and an assortment of small high tables near the bar and larger regular height tables were arranged on the floor. Her eyes lit up when she saw the dance floor in front of the picture windows along the far wall and the stage area in the far corner. The trio on the stage was made up of saxophone, keyboard and drums. The three or four couples on the floor were swinging around briskly to a light jazzy tune.

Cindy hugged his arm even closer as he guided her to one of the regular tables just inside the door near the corner of the room opposite the band. He held her chair for her like a gentleman and, after she seated herself, she gave his hand a brief kiss before she released it. He gently squeezed her shoulder and then took the chair across from her.

I wonder if I could ever feel truly comfortable in these surroundings.

Cindy was stunned when she caught a glimpse of the waitress heading toward them. The tall black girl was dressed…, no, she was wearing a strapless black satin bustier that pushed her sizable breasts up and together on her chest, impossibly tall high heel shoes, black fishnet stockings and a tiny black satin skirt over what must have been panties covered with white ruffles. Her hair was corn rowed with dozens of silver beads woven into the braids that fell around her shoulders. In the dim light, the only thing visible was the whites of her eyes, her gleaming white teeth and her ridiculous panties. And the swaying beads in her hair. As the bar maid gracefully strolled across the room toward them on her stilts, Cindy stared at her openly until she sensed that she was being watched. She turned to catch his eyes on her, his lips turned up in just a hint of a smirk.

He's laughing at me again!

"Good evening, Mr. Wexler, what can I get for y'all?" she asked in a bit too much of a southern drawl. She pronounced it 'Mistah". Her voice was just a bit too honey smooth.

"Looks like you're busy tonight."

"For a weeknight, yeah," she replied and waited for an answer to her original question.

"I'm driving, Lilah, so I'll have a plain Collins mix and the lady will have a 69er, but, would you ask whoever is working the bar tonight to please serve it in a snifter, if they could."

No, Ron. Please, I beg of you, no! No more liquor! I'm already past my limit.

"Why, certainly, sir. I think that can be done. I'll be right back."

Cindy's pleading eyes did nothing to sway him. She held her almost pitiful gaze on him for the longest time, but he refused to budge. Frustrated and angry, she looked away to the dancers by the windows.

Just because he buys it for me doesn't mean that I have to drink the damn stuff. I'll show him!

But, the more she watched the dancers moving gracefully around the floor and the more the music worked its magic, the more she wanted to be out there in his arms, moving to the primal urges of the rhythm. She gradually felt her anger melt away. After all, how could she stay angry at a man who had been so wonderful to her? When she turned her head back to look into his eyes, her gaze tried to convey her desire to have his body swaying gently against hers on the dance floor. She didn't have to look down to know that her nipples were already poking out in the flimsy cups of her bra and she was grateful that the dim lighting wouldn't make her arousal obvious to everyone.

She reached her hands across the table and he took hers lightly in his. Her fingers glided over his palms, letting the gentleness of the caresses express her affection. They relaxed like that, gazing into each other's eyes until Lilah reappeared with their order. The bar maid smoothly placed the drinks on napkins on the table and Cindy was immediately fascinated by what was placed in front of her. She had never seen a snifter before and the squat stemmed glass with the bulbous globe that narrowed to a small rim at the top instantly piqued her curiosity.

And the drink inside it was almost as interesting. All that big glass and there was only a little liquid all the way in the bottom. She picked the glass up by its stem and looked through it. There was at most a quarter inch of clear liquid in the very bottom and another eighth of an inch or so of emerald green liquid floating on top of the clear stuff. She looked quizzically over the top of the drink at Ron, letting her eyes plead for some explanation.

"This is a drink that you want to be very careful with, Pet. Just take a little sip at a time and let it ease off the back of your tongue and down your throat. The snifter is designed the way it is so that you can slide your hand underneath it and hold the bowl of the glass in your palm."

He took the snifter from her and guided her hand so that her palm was facing up and her middle and ring finger separated. Then, he slid the stem between her open fingers and set the glass onto her palm. She let her hand cup around it and waited for him to continue.

"When you swirl the drink around the bottom of the glass, your hand warms it and releases the aromas of the liqueurs. Then you put the glass up to your nose and inhale before you take a sip. That's why it's called a snifter. Give it a try."

She had already caught a whiff of mint from the direction of the drink and her curiosity easily overruled any caution that she might have been able to muster. She moved her hand in a gentle circular motion and the liquid flowed thickly around in the bottom of the glass. When she brought the glass to her nose, the incredibly powerful aroma of mint mingled with the rich smell of chocolate. Steeling her nerve, she turned the glass up and let a little of the liquid dribble onto the top of her tongue. She closed her mouth and savored a liquid peppermint patty. The invisible vapors coming from the top of the glass filled her sinuses with the delicious smells as she let the sip ease its way down the back of her throat. It had the consistency of a good cough syrup and warmed her throat all the way down without burning. She felt like her entire head was engulfed in chocolate mint.

"Whew!" she said and immediately froze when she realized that she had spoken. She looked into his eyes with a feeling of dread only to see him smile. Slowly willing her suddenly tense muscles to relax, she made up her mind to try something a little more daring. She could always blame it on all the alcohol that he had forced on her. She twirled her drink around the bottom of the glass again and took a larger sip this time. Again the enveloping aroma of chocolate mint teased her brain. This time she sensually ran her tongue over her lips before swallowing the heady mixture. Easing up out of her chair, she smoothly slid around the table and leaned down before him, presenting her moist puckered lips to be kissed. He fell for the bait and set his lips to devouring hers. Her arms slipped around his neck as she really became lightheaded.

This man sure knows how to kiss! My God, I think I'm floating."

When their lips eased apart, he whispered, "You certainly taste good, Pet. Would you care to dance?"

She practically dragged him out of his chair by the neck. He made quite a production of fighting her off until they both dissolved into fits of laughter. Hand in hand, they weaved their way between the tables until they reached the dance floor. There, he took her in his arms and led her onto the floor and into the dance. Cindy was surprised to find that he was a strong dancer with a sure lead. After a moment's hesitation, she gave herself up to him and fell under the spell of the music. The first few tunes that they danced to were a comfortable tempo for stretching their legs and moving gracefully around the floor. He put her through her paces, twirling her around occasionally and allowing her the freedom to let her feet express her joy while he kept them clear of the other dancers. He skillfully showed her off, always in control, but making sure that she was the one in the spotlight.

As the other couples either left or moved away from the center of the floor, Ron noticed that they had all the room they needed and he gradually lengthened his step and sped up his turns, swinging her wider and faster as they went. He got the impression that the musicians started playing more to their lead, because the beat seemed to become a bit more insistent and the music a little louder. Her face was aglow, slightly flushed and showing a trace of glistening across her brow and upper lip. The next song was lighter and more sedately paced. He drew her into his arms and they moved effortlessly together. They gazed into each other's eyes for the entire number.

Finally, the trio relaxed into a slow, erotic tune that Cindy recognized. They had been listening to it on the ride to the club. Resting her head on his shoulder, she melted into his arms. Her taut nipples bored into his chest and her belly found his. Her thighs moved sensually against his as they swayed to the music. The heat in her body seemed to focus itself in her loins. She hummed along with the music.

How appropriate. "All or Nothing at All." What a fitting song for our first dance. I'll remember this moment for the rest of my days.

The song came to an end and the musicians announced that they would be back after a short break. Ron and Cindy walked slowly back across the room and they heard a smattering of applause as they passed. When they got back to their table, Lilah was waiting for them.

"The boss said y'all earned yourselves a round on the house. What can I get y'all?"

"Thank you, Lilah. We'll have two glasses of ice water."

"That all, sir?"

"That's all."

Ron watched the scantily clad bar maid saunter away from the table and commented, "I'll bet that you would look fantastic in an outfit like that, Pet."

Cindy had also been watching the girl leave the table with completely different thoughts in her mind. Her head snapped around meet his gaze with a horrified look on her face. Shaking her head vehemently, she held her hands out to her sides, indicating the size of her hips. It wasn't that she had a poor self-image; Cindy was well aware of her shape and it would not look good with silly white ruffles drawing attention to one of the less attractive parts of her body. She often joked with her college classmates that, if she had been a horse, she certainly would not have been a Clydesdale, but then again, she would have been much closer to a quarter horse than an Arabian.

On her high school tennis team, she had been third seed in singles, but played first team doubles, where her reflexes and quickness made up for her lack of range. Her broad hips and muscular thighs were ideal for quick bursts of speed, but her legs weren't long enough to cover the entire court by herself. They did, however, hold her in good stead in the FOP gym; few of the male officers on the force could do a full set of squats with their own body weight on their shoulders. And she always enjoyed a personal thrill when a new officer or a visitor would offer to help her load the weights on the leg press machine only to gape when she knocked out three or four sets with 200 lbs. on it. No, from the waist down, Cindy knew that she was more functional than decorative. Ron watched her go through whatever she was thinking and laughed aloud when she crossed her arms in front of herself, crossed her eyes and bent forward in her chair.

"You may excuse yourself to go to the ladies room whenever you wish. You don't need permission."

She wiped her forehead in mock relief, picked up her purse and headed for the restrooms. The ladies room was large, well appointed, and, best of all, spotless. She sat down in a stall and relieved herself, gradually cooling down to normal temperature. He sure had given her a nice workout on the dance floor. She silently wished for more. This had already been more fun than she had enjoyed in quite some time. Taking the opportunity, she checked her cell phone for messages. There were three new messages and all of them could wait 'til the next day. While she was washing and rinsing her hands and face at the sink, she looked at herself in the mirror. After drying off, she stood in front of the mirror and imagined herself in Lilah's bustier. Pressing her breasts upward and together with her hands, she admired the modest cleavage that she was able to develop.

Now, that might look nice, but those ruffles are a non-starter. No way, Jose.

She did note ruefully that there was no disguising the proudly erect nipples that were determined to poke through the flimsy material restraining them. She let out a sigh, put on a fresh coat of lip gloss and turned to leave, but, before even reaching the door, she returned to the mirror to add a little more eye shadow to her eyes. Not too much, just a little more to make her eyes look bigger. She almost made it out the door the next time, but again found herself back at the mirror. Looking at herself closely, she finally reached up and unbuttoned the third button of her blouse and then, after a short pause, the fourth. The neck of her blouse now spread open all the way to the tops of her breasts.

I might as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb. I wonder if he'll even notice. It's all his fault for getting me drunk, anyway.