I cannot concentrate on my work today. My mind gently drifts, no is tugged to, as clearly as if I were watching a video of us performing the restaurant scenario. I hope you don't mind that I feel the need to share what I "see" with you here and now.  I know my love that soon it will no longer be an enticing fantasy but a splendid memory and when that day is upon us, I shall then write about the spectacular details of the actual events as they occurred.  But for now, these delicious images are what play in my mind... 

     "Are you hungry my love?" I ask as we approach the restaurant.

     "Famished," you reply with that familiar wicked grin that tells me quite clearly that you are but in more ways than one.

     I open the door for you and we enter the Chinese restaurant, our senses flooded by its red and yellow trim, the various scents of spices floating through the air mingling with sounds of voices talking, laughing, silverware as it clinks against plates.  It is a busy night but couples and groups are easily lost in their own intimate spaces sharing mounds of food between them while they huddle in curved booths. The hostess begins to seat us not far from the door and quickly I search the parameters of the room.

     "Excuse me but may we have that booth?" I motion toward a small booth in the far corner.

     "Of course," she pleasantly agrees and we follow her to what will soon become "our favorite spot".

     We slide onto the red leather booth; you settling first on the inside and I following you, sitting beside you on the outside.  We lean in close to one another as we begin to review and discuss the menu.

     The motion of your hand as it slowly places something into the pocket of my blazer, stirs me and I smile at you. You blush ever so slightly but the devilish grin that I have grown to know and love so very much betrays you. Meanwhile, our discussion about what to order hardly skips a beat.

     "We'll begin with a scorpion bowl," I say to the waitress when she cheerfully returns. Just another reason to remain seated close to you. Two straws soon share the iceberg filled bowl complete with centered flaming volcano. I know that soon similar flames will erupt inside of us my dear. 

Dinner arrives; multiple dishes of exotic sauces, flavors, colors and we eat while talking, laughing, whispering.  Your cheeks have begun to assume a light pink color. A combination of the drink and the anticipation of what is about to occur no doubt.  Yet I know that soon, they will own a much deeper, darker shade of red.

     You play with the drink, swirling the ice cubes with your straw as you talk about something that happened to you at work yesterday. I hope you will forgive me my love, but my thoughts are not 100% with you at this moment.

     As you continue to idly chat, my hand slowly reaches into my pocket; my thumb feeling for the small round button located on the remote control. I glance down at the thin wire that bridges the few inches that separate our hips.

     With an imperceptible, slight movement of my thumb, I turn the button to low.

     You stop talking and inhale sharply. Your eyes open wide.  Your luscious lips separate in a silent gasp. Then you look at me and smile. As the tip of your tongues leaves the inside of your delicious mouth to slowly lick your lips, you swallow hard and allow a low, quiet, deep moan to escape.

     "Be nice," you whisper. Your eyes plead.

     "Oh yes. You should know by now that I am always nice," I say back to you; my eyes smiling more than my lips.

     You begin to wiggle your hips slightly, moving them side to side. I know what you are doing and cannot let you enjoy this too much, too quickly... so I move the button back to "off".   You toss a pout my way and whisper, "I don't think I can take this."

     "Oh yes," I return the whisper, "you can take it quite well I am sure.  Now as you were saying...."

     You can hardly speak for the smile on your face is so large, but you feebly attempt to continue with the story you had been relating. However, focusing on it is now very difficult for you and the monologue is punctuated with numerous pauses as your mind wanders. 

     "Are you preoccupied with something?" I curiously ask.

     "Yes, I guess you might say that," your reply.

     "Well then, let's see if we can help you concentrate," and with that I turn the button back to low. Your body trembles slightly and I move the speed to medium. You clench your fists and suddenly your smile disappears and you look at me with excruciating desire. The scenario has quickly moved beyond humorous to you.

     "Let's go," you whisper, near frantic, "please?"

     "We can't, we have to pay the bill." 

     My smile betrays the intense pleasure I'm receiving from the situation.

     "Well then stop..." 

     You are interrupted by the waitress who pauses by our table.

     "Can I get you anything else?" she politely asks.

     "Oh no, it was all most wonderful," I speak for you as you sit and play with the drink, gently rocking side to side, ever so slightly as if dancing to your own private tune.

     The waitress picks up the dishes and begins to go away.

     "Oh by the way," I ask her, "the chicken dish was spectacular, do you know how it was prepared?" 

     I turn the button to high. You take a deep inhale, hold your breath and fall back, pressing against the booth. I look at you, nipples peeking from behind your loose silk shirt and your hips rise, just the slightest bit, off the cushion, your thighs are squeezed tightly together. Your hand slowly reaches under the table and pinches on my leg.

     "Let's see," she stands in front of us thinking, "yes I believe I know what they put in that...." and proceeds to tell us in detail how to prepare the scrumptious dish.

     "Thank you so much," I say as she starts to leave, "oh, and one more thing..."

     You kick me hard under the table. 

     "We'll take the check."

     I turn off the switch. 

     You are breathing harder now, faster. 

     "Wait until we get home," you mumble. 

     "Oh really?" I toss back, "No threats please. You know where my fingers are right now, you better behave." 

     Your eyes fly open and you stare at me, pupils widely dilated, huge black circles almost completely hide the colorful ring which encircles them and there is a moistness which covers your eyes now. 

     The glistening glimmer of lust. The look of hunger. 

     I know it well. 

     Before paying the check, I lean in, whispering so closely that my lips sensuously brush against your ear, "Dinner is not over my sweet one. You still need to have desert."

     ...And so my dear, when are you free for dinner?

Eagerly yours,

O.