Restaurant: Barry and the Bolognese

"Alright. I see your point."

"She was right. We finished our dishes in silence. Both of us keenly interested in all of the insignificant things around us. The floor. The paintings on the walls. What other people were eating.

"Look, you're right," I said finally. "Do you want to talk about things more? To your point, I'm a random stranger. I could be gone tomorrow. We'd never see each other again. Hopefully, you'd feel better the next day. Random strangers are sometimes exactly what you need. Maybe I am just the right person for all of this."

She laughed and shook her head. "Narcissistic to the end."

"I'm not. I guess I'm just trying to be useful. I'm not - I've got nothing as well. You were right. I did call my ex before I came out. I almost guilted her into having dinner with me. Getting dressed was hard."

"I can see that." She said.

"Yeah, ok," I parried. "But look, could it just be nice for you to talk with someone with nothing to gain - no reason to lie?"

She looked pitifully at me once more, but then her face softened. She took a long pull from her wine glass.

"You're asking for trouble." She said.

"That's fine," I said.

"Ok." She sighed. "Then ask me questions. If it's so useful for you to be something, ask away."

"What? About you? About the relationship?"

"Yes. I think I just don't feel like thinking - so ask. Anything you want."

"Were you having sex?"

"What? Really? Unbelievable!"

"I wanted to see if you really meant 'anything you want.'"

"You're so shallow."

"You said any question. Did you think I'd ask something like, 'what was he like?' My girlfriend left me because we stopped having sex. No intimacy. It all just went away. That had been the indicator the whole thing was sinking."

"Maybe she topped because of something else?"

"Did you stop? With him?"

"No. And I decided WHEN as well. That's the way it should be."

"So you took the initiative?" I said, pushing back the image of her reaching over the table, grabbing and yanking me by the collar, and kissing me hard. The glasses, bowls, and silverware tumbled from the table as she decided she wanted to kiss me.

"We were good in the physical area of our relationship. He satisfied me and vice versa."

"So what else could've been happening?" Genuinely disappointed her downfall was not similar to my own - so much for common ground.

"He wanted a threesome."

"Really?"

"With my friend. I had said 'maybe,' but when I came home from work one day, they were both there."

"What, like in bed?" Hiding a tiny bit of arousal.

"No, on the couch, dumbass. They were sitting on the couch, she tried to kiss me and get me to go to bed with her."

"Wow."

"They cornered me into the decision. I don't like to be coerced. You should remember that."

"And?" I asked, my breath catching and my face growing embarrassingly hot.

"I saw how she looked at him and he looked at her. He didn't look at me like that - not anymore."

"So they were dating behind your back?"

"No, I just realized the threesome wasn't all for the sexual reasons he tried to convince me it was. He was just bored. Bored of me. Bored of us. And I realized she'd be next. There'd be another girl to fuck. And then he'd throw her out. I don't know if I could think that way. He didn't want a simple relationship."

"That's too bad."

"I realized he made decisions avoiding commitment."

"But you were going to propose to him."

"I think I wanted to see what he'd do - to see if he'd speak with me truthfully. I wanted to call him out for who he was."

"Well, it looks like he made his decision."

"I really didn't expect anything more."

"My girlfriend was the opposite - or rather, our relationship was the opposite. I needed a slower life, and she wanted to do the exploring. So we ended it."

"You wanted the quieter life?"

"It wasn't a mutual decision, just more of a 'this is happening, are you in or out?' and I decided not to stay."

"So, you wanted low-key, and she was interested in inviting someone else in?"

"I wanted a commitment. I'm not experienced or dated much - not the most trodden snow if you know what I mean."

"Do you know who it was?"

"No, but I think she's with someone now."

"Did she ever ask you again?"

"No," realizing she had never called me since we broke up, I finally didn't stop myself from calling her tonight. "We never talked - until tonight."

"What a mess." She said.

"It was, yes."

"I meant you."

"Me? I finally hear from someone who wanted a quieter sex life, and she calls me a mess."

"I don't want a quiet sex life." She said.

"OK. I had the impression - "

Gratefully, she laughed. "No, I mean, I didn't want a third person, but I want a healthy sex life."

"Not missionary twenty-four-seven?"

"No. It's not all about fucking, don't you see? It should be built on trust. I always felt wrong with him, but he was great in bed, and I loved it, so I went along with it. But it was going to be temporary - just fun."

"So it was about fucking. You were right."

"Yes, thanks." She chuffed.

"No, I mean, you should trust your gut. You don't seem to be the paranoid type. So what you felt - you couldn't trust him - that was real. You were right." I added emphatically.

"I know that Barry, but I appreciate your explanation." She said.

"Well. Ok. I didn't mean to say you didn't." I stumbled.

"I know that, too."

"I always seem to have it in hindsight." I backtracked. "For me, it's always 20/20."

"What does that mean?" she asked.

"It's a type of benchmark," I explained, relieved to be on a safer topic. "It's saying the person can also see from 20 feet what should be seen at 20 feet."

"No, I mean, why do you see things in hindsight? You don't realize what is happening?"

"I think I try not to pay attention and overthink it."

"Nice, it's odd you're aware of what 20/20 means."

"I know useless things."

"You sure do. But I see what you mean; you see it later, after it happens, right?"

"Yes, usually. I have time to think and be introspective, and then I realize."

She pursed her lips a little - like she was disappointed with the whole conversation.

"It's late. Do you mind if I walk you to your car?"

"No, I don't mind at all."

We strolled through the Italian section winding our way through the streets and parks. It was a cool city night lit by bright streetlights and ornate neon signs in the restaurant windows. Our senses drank in air saturated with oil, garlic, and perfume from other couples around us.

I was grateful we took our time. We talked about other small things, exchanging questions and answers without rushing. Sometimes our shoulders brushed together.

"Do you know the neighborhood?" She asked once.

"Not like this at night," I said. "Things seem so different, like another world."

"They seem more impressive," she added, "people dressed, men looking handsome, and women in pretty evening dresses."

"Yes, I agree," indicating hers. She blushed and rolled her eyes at the compliment. She was undoubtedly dressed beautifully. A sexy, black wrap-around dress draped around her curvy figure. Ornate black nylons accentuated her legs. Peeking out from beneath the dress was a stunning red lace bra, most likely worn in anticipation of him taking off her dress after accepting her proposal and going home at night to be a couple again.

She laughed and rolled her eyes. "And you? What happened there?"

"I didn't expect to meet a beautiful woman. What are the odds, right? One in a million."

"You're the takeaway kid." She joked and touched my arm lightly.

Her car, a luxurious SUV, was nestled deep within the underground car garage. She took a long time to get her key. I decided to linger and savor her presence. I would wait there until she drove away. She had beautiful, glimmering brown hair. It fell over her eyes as she searched her purse. She was well out of my league. Regrettably, she got her keys. The car started with the press of a button from a slick pink gold key fob.

She turned to me to say goodbye.

I couldn't resort to the cliche. I didn't want to use the same old tired words I had failed with a hundred times before. The dried, exhausted 'wells,' 'has,' and 'so's.' Our eyes met, and I steeled myself for whatever was going to come.

She closed the distance between us and kissed me. It was a good, solid kiss. Our lips closed together perfectly. The warm flavors of our mouths mingled. Her hand slightly touched my face. My hand traced the soft curve of her hips.

She pulled away for a moment, wetting her lips, tasting them elegantly. She could leave at any moment. I closed my eyes and tried embedding her smell and the feel of her lips deep into my brain.

Then she kissed me again. This time her tongue pushed and explored my mouth. Mine welcomed its velvety touch, touching, twisting, and playing together.

Her hands now gripped the side of my head, pulling us deeper into the kiss. My arms curled around her waist, pulling her body close to mine so tightly she emitted a soft squeak.

She broke from my embrace again.

"Come with me. Come with me." She whispered as she led me into the back seat of her car.

Her purse was thrown into the front passenger side.

Her keys rattled in the middle well of the car.

She pulled me back into the rich SUV interior, punctuating our effort with wonderful, hungry kisses, but never breaking our progress into the back seat. We tumbled into the expensive, soft leather. Our mouths crashed together. Her fingers raked through my hair. I gave her soft kisses on her mouth, cheek, and neck. I kissed her long and hard, listening as her gasps encouraged my exploration.

I reached back and grabbed the open door, making to close it.

"OK?" I asked.

"Yes, now, for fuck sake." She said.

I slammed the door closed, and we were lost in the sweet, warm silence of the car. Our bodies moved, bumped, and rustled with the car's dark leather interior.

She pulled me close to her. My hips fit perfectly between her legs. I suspended myself above her, one hand gripping the top of the back seat for support, the other a door handle.

All at once, she pushed me backward. Before I could question it, she reached down and untied the simple sash keeping her dress wrapped around her sexy body.

She threw her dress open, revealing her sexy red lace bra, ornate, delicate red and gold panties, and delicate gold and red garter belts holding her thigh-high pantyhose. All of this had been for a man now long gone.

One of her hands was on my shoulder.

Another was on my head, pushing me down between her legs.

I obliged with tremendous enthusiasm, kissing and stroking the sides of her thighs, my fingers massaging the delicate triangle of silk hiding her vulva. Her hips moved and twisted in response, popping and pivoting, making my touch more gratifying for her.

She moaned loudly in pleasure.

I gave in to a deep, hungry lust to please her, pulling aside her panties to expose her red, tender lips. My fingers gently closed around them. I teased and kissed them through my fingers until she cried out in surprise.

Her perfume and musk filled the car. She undid her garters, and I peeled off her gossamer panties. I leaned back to take off my jacket. She opened her legs wider and teased me with a view of her fingers tantalizing her triangle of pubic hair.

"Keep going," she said.

"Yes," I said obediently and dove to my knees to attend to her. I scooped up her generous ass in my hands and pulled her hot, wet vulva into my mouth, making her cry out again. My tongue lapped and flicked her wet velvet and stroked its delicate folds. I found her soft button, her clit ready for my attention. Her fragrant liquid eased my exploration, making it deliciously slippery and lush.

After patient effort, circling, painting, caressing, probing, and massaging, I felt her thighs tightly encircle my head and begin to tremble. I did not let her break my effort, continuing my pace, letting her be present in the feeling welling up, allowing every fiber of her to enjoy it - and finally erupt with pleasure. It splashed across my face and shirt. Her howl was filled with release and satisfaction.

Her body collapsed across the seat. Her arms and legs draped over the top of the back seats and on the clean, manicured car floor. They quaked and spasmed with aftershocks of her orgasm.

I leaned back against the soft seat. Without any resistance, I moved her legs across my lap. While the SUV windows were tinted, the ochre lights of the garage cast enough light inside our silent cave for me to admire her beautiful body. I was proud. This woman so out of my league lying there, satisfied with my attention, my ability rendering her relaxed and vulnerable. I massaged her delicate, nylon feet, pressing my thumbs against tired, neglected muscles. She cooed appreciatively.

We continued in silence, but for her breathing and the gentle swish of my fingers on her nylon-clad toes.

"Do you want to continue to this back my place?" She said, sitting up. Her eyes sparkled and her face glowed.

"I'd really like that."

"It seems like a long drive to me." She said.

"How long?"

"45 minutes. Are you any closer?"

"No, probably a bit farther."

"I don't want to wait." She said. "If we pause, it will be gone. What would we even talk about on the ride there?"

"That perhaps the random stranger at a random table in a random restaurant is a good thing?"

She reached over and undid my pants. My thick hard cock, having been relentlessly pushing against the constraints of my pants, victoriously popped out into the warm air of the car. Exposed just for a moment before her warm mouth slipped over it. I felt her nose and chin press into my pubic hair, then pull away in one long luxurious suck.

It was all so quickly overwhelming: My constant state of arousal from first seeing her at the table by the door, her sexy lingerie, her beautiful body, her pretty smile, her sinewy back, her hips folded as she knelt on the car seat, her cries of satisfaction, our illicit acts in such a public place, her perfect broad ass jingling slightly framed in the red garter, her mouth bobbing loudly and wetly up and down my manhood - my body shuddered and came. The explosion caught in her mouth. She emitted a muffled yelp of surprise - and swallowed it.

I felt drained and fulfilled all at once. We faced each other, her on her knees on the car seat, her dress unabashedly open, and her body unhidden. It glowed in the low light. Me, seated with my exhausted cock flopped on one side, my pants pulled down hastily.

"I don't want to take you home, Barry."

"That would probably rush things."

"After this?" she laughed, "what else would we rush into?"

"Well, we're not strangers anymore."

"If we were dating, we'd have rushed things, but - "

"Well, can we go back to being random strangers?" I interrupted.

Her eyes were bright in the darkness of the car, her lips wet and glistening. She smiled slightly. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, can we go back to that table, but this time, you without the ring and me without the lonely dinner takeout?"

"And what? We'd show up there again and meet one another?"

"I'll go there every day," but added quickly to not sound too desperate, "not because I'll anticipate seeing anyone as amazing as you - but a guy could hope."

"Every day?"

"Weekdays? Between 7 and 8:30 pm?"

"That's a long dinner."

"I need to try the bolognese."

"That's a good choice."

And so I went every day, sparing lunches and budgeting my money so I could dine at the tiny Italian restaurant every day.

For a week.

And another week.

The restaurant maitre'd, who I think owned the place, gave me dinner for free a few times. The colossal chef began to say hello to me.

A month passed.

Then the evenings grew cooler. I looked forward to the bolognese, so simple yet so fulfilling, the mix of meat, tomatoes, cheese, and tagliatelle pasta. Accompanied, of course, by whatever the restaurant deemed their "house red." I was kept satisfied - and hopeful.

I kept myself groomed. Shaven. A nice shirt. Pants. Always ready for that first date. The clothes and grooming in anticipation of her coming became a habit. Others noticed. I ignored them. Only one mattered.

At first, I distracted myself with the comings and goings of the restaurant and the neighborhood's regulars. Mrs. Cadafora is only one of them. As time went by, the weeks turning into months, I became attentive to others. The owner meeting someone herself and falling in love just encouraged me that anything was possible. When Mrs. Cadafora passed, I moved into her tiny apartment. One of the many generosities of always being there.

From my living room window, I could look out and see the restaurant.

All the time, waiting.