“No, thanks, I ate before I came out.”
I smiled at Janet and she walked off towards the buffet alone. A year ago I would have been the first in line, my paper plate groaning under a pyramid of pork pie, sausage rolls, sandwiches and those little bits of stuff on sticks.
Not now. I’ve worked damn hard to loose fifty pounds of flab and I sure as hell am not going to put it back on. Even if the sandwiches do look fancy and the cheesecake for dessert appears decadently divine. There’s also one of those chocolate fountains bubbling away, sending out its sinful scent and making my mouth water. But no, I can’t afford the calories. According to my weight loss manager I had hit my target weight. But to me I still had too much curve to say that. My dress size was still considered plus size and I wouldn’t stop until I was thin and gorgeous. So, although I’d been told to up my calorie intake a little and to maintain my weight as it was, I was still pushing to lose more. It was tough. I had to really restrict my intake to get any positive response on my scales.
I shifted uncomfortably in my seat when I noticed the hot guy staring at me again. I knew I shouldn’t have worn a dress. I was showing far too much leg and cleavage, I was sure he must have been horrified by the sight of my blobby body. I had a moment of confidence, though. As I fitted comfortably into the red dress I’d had hanging in my wardrobe for years and never worn once because it was just far too small. I looked at myself in the mirror and saw the difference in me. The curves I wanted accentuated and those I hated hidden away. So I went with it, but when I drew the attention of the hottest man in the room I wished I’d gone with one of my bigger items, something that would have protected me from the heat of his stare.
He’s tall, hard and walks with a self-assured swagger. He strolled in to the party with a stunningly beautiful blonde. She was svelte and sexy and virtually invisible side-on. I assumed she was his girlfriend; she looked right on his arm. He’s the kind of man who attracts beauty — you could see that in his self-assured smile. He wears a suit with ease, the pale lilac shirt below highlighting the gold of his hair and the light, airy sparkle of his eyes. His girlfriend has been gone quite a while and he’d nursed a half drunk pint for a good twenty minutes. I wonder if they’d had a falling out. As I watched him, he downed the last of his drink, stood up and walked towards me. I supposed he was on his way to the buffet table. Then he stopped right by my side.
“Would you like a drink?” He asked and I stuttered my response.
“I’m ok, thanks.”
“But your glass is empty, what were you drinking?”
“Just diet coke.” I was stunned, so I just told him without thinking twice.
“Then I shall get you one. Have you tried the buffet yet?”
“No,” my practised lie rolled off my tongue. “I’ve already eaten.”
“I’ll bring you a selection of the best bits,” he said. “There’s always room for party food.”
Before I could get my lips to work he’d gone. What an arrogant man! I was not used to someone completely ignoring my wishes. What was he doing? He didn’t know me from Adam but he was attempting to control my life. No one does that but me.
He did smell good though, like expensive tea and cakes in a posh hotel, bergamot and lime, chocolate and vanilla. He looked even better close up but I was not going to be swayed by his pale blue eyes or his wide, claspable shoulders. I was not going to wonder how it might feel to pinch his tight buttocks even though they looked firm and muscular and I couldn’t take my eyes off them as he walked away.
“Where’s your girlfriend?” I asked when he came back and put a plate and glass down before me. I was determined to talk this time and not let him cow me.
“I don’t have one. Oh, you mean Gloria. No, she’s my sister. “
“Oh.”
“So the position is open if you’re interested.” He winked.
“Yeah, right,” I scoffed indicating all of me with a dismissive wave of my hand. “Because a hot guy like you would love to go out with this.”
“Go out, stay in, I wouldn’t mind as long as I got to touch and hold you.”
I opened my mouth to say something, a witty rejoinder was just on the tip of my tongue but words wouldn’t come. I was incapable of thought let alone articulation.
“But I should at least ask you for your name first. My name is Roman, yes it is stupid, and no I wasn’t conceived in Italy. And you are?”
“Anabel and I have no witty remarks to help you remember it.”
“Belle is beauty in French. I’m going to call you Belle.”
He didn’t ask if it was ok, I normally hated my name being shortened but for some reason I didn’t tell him that. Maybe I liked being called Beautiful.
“Now, Belle, I’d start with the smoked salmon, it’s delicious.”
“Pardon?”
“The food I brought, you should try the salmon.”
“Oh, no. I’m really not hungry.” I prayed my stomach wouldn’t rumble and give me away.
“Nonsense, I can see you salivating. You’ve been eying it up all night.”
“I don’t think it’s any of your business.”
“I get really turned on watching a woman eat and your lips are so plump I know that watching you will be highly pleasurable for me.”
He’d stumped me again. I am usually well known for my quick wit but with him I struggled to form sentences. Was he really saying it’d turn him on to see me eat?
I’ll prove it to you.” He grabbed my hand and held it to his chest. “Feel my nipple.”
“Oh, uh, yes. Nipply.” I stuttered. I wanted to run my hands all over him to follow his linear planes and push them against my curves.
He laughed, prodded the pink piece of Piscean pleasure and pressed the proffered gift to my lips.
The smoky scent was strong and filled my senses. The wet fish bumped against my plump lips and my mouth watered in anticipation. I slowly widened my mouth, careful to be demure and lady-like. I was very aware of his heavy gaze focused on my lips and wondered how I could get the morsel off the fork without pornographically sticking out my tongue or salivating all over him. I slowly opened my lips and clamped them around the fork before pulling back and delicately chewing. I felt Roman’s nipple harden and heard a gentle moan. He was watching me intently. The warmth of the smoke and the fresh silkiness of the salmon seemed to be enhanced by his pleasure. I chewed and enjoyed my morsel and didn’t think about the calorie content once.
“See,” he covered my hand with his own. “I am turned on by you eating. Please try something else.”
“Maybe you were just cold,” I shrugged, a little annoyed by his tone but mostly by the way I wanted to respond to it.
“Alright, eat something else and I will give you definitive proof that it turns me on.” He slid my hand down over his chest and stomach and rested my palm over his crotch. I gulped. I could feel him inside the confines of his trousers, he was firm and his cock twitched at the pressure of my hand on him.
“Now eat.”
I was hypnotized by those eyes. I can’t think of any other reason why I did what he bid and didn’t run away shouting ‘pervert’ at the top of my voice. I picked up a little cracker. It had cheese and some kind of pickle on it. As I pulled it closer to my mouth I picked up the onion and spice of the relish and my stomach rumbled in anticipation. I looked up and realised he was staring at me. I couldn’t pull away from his gaze. I lost myself in him and watched his pupils dilate as I eased the morsel into my mouth. His cock twitched and ballooned at my touch. I chewed. Heavy cheese, mellow and crumbly with the sweet, sour tanginess of the onions. I was euphoric, the food seduced my taste and Roman romanced the rest of me.
“Proof enough for you?” he whispered, his breath tickling my ear and sending a wave of goose bumps over my skin. I nodded, still finishing the morsel in my mouth.
“Good, so what are you going to try next?”
He kept my hand on his crotch as I tried a vol-au-vent with a creamy mushroom centre. He tightened his grip on my wrist when I slipped a breadstick between my lips and slowly sucked off the hummus I’d picked up on it. My eating became a show, I wasn’t worried about calories, I just wanted to make Roman’s dick dance. By the time I finished the last salty olive on my plate he was straining inside his trousers. His erection thick and strong. I was thrilled to know I’d been the one to cause it.
“Delicious.” I said, licking my lips. I had enjoyed every mouthful. I’d not worried about fat or sugars once. I knew it would be flying straight to my hips but I didn’t care. It was nothing an extra hour at the gym wouldn’t fix. I had been hungry, as much as I’d denied that to myself and it was good to feel the comfortable weight of a light meal inside me.
“I enjoyed every mouthful.” Roman pulled my hand from his crotch and lifted it to his lips. He gently kissed the back of my fingers making me drop my gaze and giggle. “I can’t wait for dessert.” He finished with a seductive lick of his lips.
“Oh,” I looked up, eyes wide with panic. “I don’t do desert. No, not at all.”
I used to regularly have whole meals that consisted of cake and chocolate and all things sweet. It was a strange kind of rebellion when I left home. As a child, I was never allowed a dessert after my meal, not even a piece of fruit. I was too chubby and so my sweet tooth and urge for seconds had to be denied.
So when I ended up under my own roof and under my own rules I often had chocolate cake for breakfast, muffins for lunch and cheesecake for dinner. It wasn’t big and it wasn’t clever but it made me feel like I was in control and no longer under Mum’s thumb.
So when I ballooned into a size of dress that took my breath away the sweet treats were the first things to go. It seemed Mum had been right, I had to keep away from all things sweet if I had any hope of becoming a normal sized person. A person who could walk into any shop and find clothing to fit.
“Oh, come on,” Roman exclaimed. “There’s a chocolate fountain. Everyone loves gooey, melted chocolate.”
“I don’t have a sweet tooth.” I ducked my head and looked to the floor.
“Belle, don’t lie.” His tone was stern and it made my cheeks flush hot with embarrassment.
“Please, Roman. I just can’t. I’m not allowed sweet things.”
“Are you diabetic?”
“No,” I shook my head. “But...”
“Are you allergic to chocolate or dairy?”
“No, but...”
“Have you eaten anything sweet in the last few days?”
“No!” I shouted forcefully, frustrated that he wouldn’t let me finish my sentence. “But I am not allowed sweet things. I am on a diet.”
“A diet so constricting is not a healthy thing, Belle.”
“But I am so fat, Roman. I need to lose weight or I will get diabetes and heart disease and have a stroke and die at an early age.” I was flustered. One minute feeling good about myself and feeling hot and horny for a guy who obviously felt the same for me, and the next I was back to feeling fat and frumpy and having a panic attack over chocolate.
“You are perfect just the way you are.” He gently put his arm around my shoulders and squeezed. “I know you want to be healthy and that’s a good thing but denial isn’t healthy, guilt isn’t good for you and a little bit of a sweet treat isn’t going to kill you.”
I could feel tears pricking at my eyes, I fluttered my lashes to hold them back.
“Look, we’ll go and have some fruit. Fruit is healthy, right? I’m going to dunk mine in a bit of chocolate but if you don’t want to you don’t have to.”
“Okay,” I conceded. Fruit is healthy, I knew I needed to have it to get my vitamins and minerals and if I could eat a few cubes of pineapple and keep Roman happy without breaking my diet then it’d all be good. And I hoped there was a chance I’d still get laid even though I’d just given him a full showing of my neurotics.
It is very easy to refuse chocolate when you are nowhere near it but when you can see a silken waterfall of sweet cocoa goodness and smell its molten appeal it becomes much more difficult to resist.
I was really good, I looked past the marshmallows and the chunks of fudge and I speared a juicy looking strawberry.
“Good choice.” Roman nodded and pushed his freshly speared mallow into the flow of gooey goodness. “I love strawberries.”
I watched transfixed as he opened his mouth, held his head back and dropped the chocolate treat inside without spilling a drop. He moaned and masticated and I felt a dampening in my mouth and my knickers. Maybe Roman was on to something — watching someone else eat is sexy.
“Please, Belle, you’ll make me blush.”
“Sorry,” I gasped and lowered my gaze to the floor. It was me who blushed from the intense heat that gathered in my cheeks.
“I was only pulling your leg, beautiful. Do you want some chocolate on your strawberry? It’s a lovely combination.”
I meant to shake my head, I really did, I promise but my head dipped and lifted and I swear it did it independently of thought. Damn chocolate, it addles my brain.
“Here,” he grabbed my hand and pulled it towards the fountain. “It’s flowing the thickest just there.”
I watched in a trance as the bright red of my healthy treat dipped into the glossy brown chocolate until most of it was covered. I didn’t move, Roman dictated what I did and it was his hand that guided mine round until the strawberry butted against my lips.
“Quickly,” he gasped, hauntingly pale eyes focused on me. “Before it drips.”
I opened my lips and felt the bulbous fruit push in. Roman watched intently and I imagined it was his cock that I sucked eagerly. The chocolate coated my mouth and throat, reminding me of its decadent comfort that I had neglected for so very long. I was overwhelmed by the blast of familiar creamy sweetness and I moaned, low, soft and deep. Roman bit his lower lip and scrunched his eyes tight closed as if it was all too much for him.
I chewed through the soft, fruity nugget and enjoyed the fresh blast of strawberry juice after the cloying chocolate.
“Belle, you missed a bit.” Roman pointed down to a point below my chin, before I could look or respond he’d bent his head and lapped up the spillage from my exposed skin, just below my collarbone.
I held myself stock still; desire shot through my veins, shock mellowed into sexual heat and I didn’t push him away. People were probably watching but I didn’t care.
“That’s better,” he licked his lips and went back to the chocolate fountain. I didn’t dip anything else, Roman did it all for me. We shared everything. Tart pineapple, softly giving marshmallow.
I gloried in the sweetness, the decadence and overall his touch. He licked my lips clean, caught drips with his tongue and disappeared into my cleavage to retrieve warm drops I am sure he’d angled to fall there in the first place.
Then as he finished off a chocolate dunked marshmallow and a stream of the molten goodness slipped down onto his lower lip I kissed it clean, sucking until I could taste chocolate no more.
Roman kept our lips connected as he held me close and pulled me tighter for our first proper kiss. And what a kiss, chocolate soaked and passionate our lips danced erotically. I forgot where we were and threw my all into my response. When finally we separated, both panting, chests heaving I noticed several people staring.
“Let’s go.” Roman pulled on my hand and I followed him. I waved to Janet as he dragged me to the door. She smiled and stuck both her thumbs into the air.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“Somewhere I can fuck you properly.”
I’m British, I don’t expect such bluntness, especially not from a man who sounds so proper. I liked it though. I didn’t think, I just responded.
“My flat is only a few minutes walk away.”
“Brilliant! Let’s go, Belle.”
It seemed surreal to be walking along the main road back to my flat with a tall, handsome man on my arm. I had struggled so long with my self-image that I’d barely had time to date. I’d had the odd encounter with guys, managed to stay with one long enough to lose my virginity but not long enough to form a real relationship. I think the final straw came when he told me I was sexy, but had I thought about losing a pound or two?
I told him I hadn’t, but I was going to shed a load then and there. I dumped him, went on an eating binge and two years and three dress sizes later I decided maybe he’d been right. I hit thirty and a cholesterol level you don’t even want to know and I started my diet.
“You look far too serious, my Belle, you’re not having second thoughts are you?” Roman’s features were still strong, his eyes sparkling with confidence but there was a wobble to his lip, a line to his brow that showed he was a little unsure.
“No,” I shook my head. “No, I was just thinking of the past. Sorry.”
“Don’t apologise, gorgeous. Smile and tell me something dirty.”
I giggled, looked to the floor, watched the worn tarmac disappear behind me and then whispered. “I want to suck your cock, I want to taste you.”
“Mmm, yes, your pretty lips will look so good at the base of my dick.” He didn’t shout it, I’m sure but it seemed like he was talking incredibly loudly. My cheeks burned as I saw a young couple on the other side of the road. Had they heard?
“Do you know what I want, Belle?” He didn’t wait for me to answer. “I want to tie you down and eat you up. I want to cover you in cream and chocolate and sprinkles and I want to lick it all off. I want to spank you, I want to make you cum but most of all I want to fuck you. Hard.”
I licked my lips and gulped. My knees wobbled and Roman pulled me closer to him. He laughed.
“Does that sound good to you, too?”
I could only nod. Thankfully we’d reached my block of flats and I had to extricate myself from him to find my key and let us in. We stumbled to my door — I was so glad I was on the ground floor.
“Bedroom?” He walked across the room to the small corridor at the back.
“To the left, “I called after him, locking the door, slipping off my uncomfortable heels and throwing my handbag onto the sofa. My heart thudded. I wasn’t anxious about the state of my bedroom, I am somewhat of a tidy freak and I wasn’t scared about having sex.
No, it was the getting naked bit that gave me palpitations. What if when I took off my confining dress, my tummy tucking knickers and my cleavage forming bra he didn’t like what he saw?
He’d not wasted any time. When I walked into my room he was already stripped down to his boxer shorts.
“Ah, I thought you’d got lost. Come here, Belle.”
I walked towards where he stood by the end of my bed. I couldn’t help but devour him with my gaze. His chest was broad and smattered with light blond hairs, a thin trail of which led down to his belly button. His stomach was virtually flat, just a soft curve of padding there. I felt a stab of jealousy, knowing my stomach could never be classified as flat. A similar word, yes but not flat.
I didn’t dwell on that. The toffee tone of his skin, the puckered, darker tone around his nipples and the tamed strength of his body turned me on and turned my mind to sex.
“My Belle, you are far too dressed,” he purred as I walked into his embrace. He spun me round and ripped down the zip on my dress. Once my back was revealed he slid his big, warm hands over my shoulders under the cloth to push it off me. His fingers trailed down my shoulder blades to my waist and aided the discarded material over my hips to pool onto the floor with a slither.
I gulped. I couldn’t see his expression but I imagined his eyes boring into my back. Did the layers that I knew marred my figure turn him off?
“Beautiful,” he murmured, lifted my hair and dropped a gentle kiss to the back of my neck. “You look divine.” He unclasped my bra with surprisingly little effort. I felt my heart sink. I held my breath. My breasts lowered into their natural position, nipples straining and hard. He eased the straps down my arms. The satin no longer shielded me. He peered over my shoulder, his chin resting in the dip, his slight stubble tickling the side of my face.
I marvel at how much worry I can pack into just a second. I waited anxiously. I imagined him pulling away, calling me fat. I imagined his disgusted face. I waited. It could have only been seconds but it seemed to drag on forever.
He cupped my flesh and moaned. I felt his desire quite literally in the small of my back. He was hard. I melted with relief and arousal. His thumbs stroked over my straining nipples and I whimpered, rubbing my face against his.
“My God, you’re perfect,” he growled. “So soft and giving.” He pinched my nipples. Not violently, not maliciously but hard enough to make me yelp. The pleasure that flowed through me in response took my breath away.
“So responsive. Fuck, Belle, can you feel what you’re doing to me?”
“Yes...” the words stick in my throat and come out like a dry rasp. I could feel him hard, hot and vibrant through the silky material separating us. He put pressure on my right shoulder and I turned to face him. He immediately kissed me, his full lips stimulating mine, pulling my breath from me, making me dizzy with desire.
“I need to taste you,” he rumbled, and pushed me back onto the bed. I didn’t have time to think before he was kissing my stomach and pulling down my knickers. My legs flailed and soon so did my panties — he left them hanging from one ankle. Roman grabbed my waist and pulled me down onto his face as he knelt on the floor between my thighs. His tongue tickled my lips and clit. He moaned, and pressed into me harder. He devoured me like I was his favourite dessert; he didn’t let me catch my breath, he didn’t give me chance to think. I just moaned, cursed and thrashed beneath him.
He was enjoying the taste of me and I don’t know if he was focusing on my pleasure, or if the pleasure was all his. When I came I shuddered and tightened my thighs around him. He sucked, making sure to drink down every drop of my nectar and I felt my orgasm rolling with every lick and every move of his lips. I had never felt so alive before.
He licked his lips and lent a knee on the edge of the bed. I scrambled back. I knew the bulge in his briefs needed to be dealt with. He pulled them off and I moved further back. I worried then. He could see my stomach, my whole body laid out before him. My flesh wobbled and I wanted to hide it. I covered myself the best I could with one arm. I lay back then and employed the other, too.
“No, no,” he tutted and reached down to the floor. He picked up my bra. “No hiding, I want to see it all.”
He grabbed at my wrists, wrapping the stretchy material around them and tied a tight knot. I wasn’t sure my poor underwear would ever be the same again. I didn’t care. I liked being at Roman’s mercy.
“Much better,” Roman nodded then picked up the wallet he’d discarded on my bedside table and pulled out a packet. I was glad he’d come prepared as I had no such protection. It’d been such a long time since I last had sex.
I was ready for him though. Slick and needy, I quickly accustomed to the heft of him as he stretched me. I moved my hands up my body as I stretched out. I ended up with my arms raised, my tied hands thrown up and over the far side of my bed. The pull in my shoulders was a little uncomfortable but I loved the way it stretched me out and made my breasts so prominent. I felt my nipples grazing his chest, his light hairs tickling and arousing me. I felt so much stimulation and he was so hard and hot within me that I had to move before it became too much. I worked my hips up and down, getting used to him inside me. He moved too and sparks of arousal fanned out from my cunt, tickled along my limbs and swelled the ache inside.
Roman was noisy and enthusiastic. I was usually the quiet kind but I found his exuberance rubbed off on me and soon I was moaning and yelling as loudly as he was. I raised my tied hands and hooped them over his neck to pull him close. He fucked me harder. He leaned in and nibbled my neck and I bucked my hips faster and higher.
“Oh, Belle, Belle, my pretty one,” he cooed. “Oh...fuck...”
He held still within me and I wrapped myself around him, milking every last drop of ecstasy from our joining.
Roman cuddled with me in bed for a while, gave me his mobile number, made a date then left. I was still in a post-orgasmic daze as I lay in my bed, enjoying my body for the first time in forever. My skin felt tender with his kisses, I felt like I shone with his love. I fell asleep with a smile on my lips.
“Have you got knickers on?”
“Well hello, Roman. Good to see you too.”
“You didn’t answer my question,” Roman leant in and pressed a kiss to my cheek. “Are you wearing knickers?”
“Yes, of course,” I replied, “why?”
“I want them.”
“I can tell you where I bought them but I didn’t have you down as a man who’d enjoy that kind of thing,” I teased.
“No, Belle, I want yours, but let’s sit down and order a drink first.”
I had been intensely nervous before that interlude — afterwards I’d swear my heart was beating hard enough to audible at the other end of the room. We’d arranged to meet in a swanky Italian restaurant, not my usual haunt so that put me on edge. I had been told to wear my fanciest clothes. So I had bought a new dress, purple, lacy and short and new high-heeled shoes to match. The first heeled shoes I’d ever worn. It took me a few hours of walking up and down my living room in them to get comfortable tottering on them. I felt sexy, though. I just hoped Roman appreciated all the effort.
And what did he do? Made me a nervous wreck within seconds. What a man. I was desperate for some kind of compliment, a little consolation but no, the sod made me feel even more off balance than my new high-heeled shoes.
“You look delicious,” he said as the posh waiter showed us to our table. “Good enough to eat.”
“Thank you,” I smiled, blushed and hoped the server hadn’t heard him. Although I was soothed a little by the compliment.
“I can’t wait to get my teeth into you.”
If the waiter heard he was far too well trained to let it show. He held the chair out for me as I seated myself, and Roman settled himself opposite then ordered a bottle of wine. I assumed it was expensive, hoped it would be tasty. I was out of my depth and my stomach fluttered with nerves.
The waiter passed me a heavy menu and smiled. I looked at it and tried to ignore the prices. A starter seemed to cost more than I’d usually pay for a whole meal.
“I don’t know what to have,” I said, breaking the silence. “It all looks so good.”
“Indulge yourself, pretty one. I think I am going to have the Carpaccio to start. It’s delicious, considering it’s raw.”
“So we’re having a starter and a main then?” I needed to know what to order.
“And a dessert — a meal is not a meal without something sweet to end.”
“Oh, right.” I panicked. I had been very good, eating only a banana for breakfast and a light soup for lunch, but even so I was sure the three courses would push me over my calorie intake for the day. Calorie counts weren’t written on the menu, and I wondered if I could ask.
“Don’t worry about the price,” Roman’s words cut into my panic. Obviously it had been showing on my face. “It’s my treat. It’s worth every penny just to have the honour of sitting across the table from you in that ravishing dress.”
“Thanks,” I smiled. At last he’d given me a little comfort, even if it wasn’t quite what I had been looking for. “You say the sweetest things.”
“Because you are the sweetest thing, love. What are you going to have?”
I bit my lower lip and concentrated. I looked up and Roman was grinning at me. He could be covered head to toe in mud and he’d still look devastatingly handsome I was sure. Where that thought came from I had no clue. I was all up in the air and all because of that devilishly good looking man on the other side of the table. I looked at the menu again. Surely there was something healthy on it?
“The rocket salad sounds good, I like rocket.” Phew, salad to the rescue.
“And mains?” He quirked his eyebrow. “Now come on, live a little.”
“The cod looks good,” I replied quickly. I was on top of it now. The menu wouldn’t defeat me.
“Wonderful. Now, while I order, you go into the ladies room and slip off your knickers, please.”
“Pardon?”
“You heard me. I know it’s not terribly original but I want your panties in my hand. I want to slip them into the pocket of my jacket. I want to enjoy your scent through the meal. Now go. Or do you want a spanking?”
I opened my mouth then closed it. I repeated the action. Words wouldn’t come and I just floundered. I probably looked like a beached fish, too. I wasn’t sure if I was pissed off or really turned on.
“I mean it, Belle. I’ll spank you right here, I have no problem with that.”
“No,” I gasped, waved my hands. “No, Roman, please...”
“Knickers, Anabel. You know you want to.”
I looked into his startling blue eyes and realised he was right. I wanted to please him. I wanted it so very much. I was scared though, what if this sexy man was just playing me for a fool?
He reached over the table and stroked my cheek.
“Please, for me?”
Who could resist that look? The slight pout, the pleading in his eye. I nodded.
I walked the length of the classy, softly lit room. I looked straight ahead. I didn’t want to know if people were looking at me, and I certainly didn’t want to look them in the eye. I wondered if my cheeks were bright red. They stung with heat. I was hot, flustered...and wet. Really wet.
I hurried into a stall in the Ladies’ Room, clicked it closed and sat down on the cool, white toilet. Wow, even the toilets intimidated me. Dark wood, gold fittings. I was going to take off my knickers too. In such a posh establishment and with a relatively short skirt on. Would people be able to see?
I knew I shouldn’t hang around, Roman was eager to have my undies in his possession. I stood, took a breath and removed my underwear. They were pretty. I’d bought them new for the date. I decided I might as well do, I had bought everything else especially for the occasion. Why not splash out on some lacy undergarments? I’d rather enjoyed entering the lingerie shop in the high street and picking things off the rack. They had my size now. There had been a time when the only panties I fit into were big, cotton granny ones.
I sat down and quickly rescued the purple lace undergarment from the white tiled floor. I scrunched them up into my hand, although it was still fairly obvious they were there. My ass was smaller these days, but it still needed a good bit of lace to cover it. I took a deep breath and exited the stall. No one was around. I took a quick look at myself in the mirror, straightened my dress and flicked an errant hair from my cheek. I tried hard not to notice the garment clutched in my left hand. After all it was barely noticeable. If I kept telling myself that, surely it would be true?
I strode across the restaurant scared that at any moment I’d hear someone commenting on the whore coming out of the bathroom with her panties in her hand. I didn’t hear anything of the sort. It might even have been said, but the rushing of blood in my ears would have drowned it out. I buzzed with nerves and arousal, I wasn’t sure where one stopped and the other began.
“Ah, you’re back.” Roman smiled. “I’ve poured you a drink.”
“Thanks,” I smiled awkwardly and sat down. How was I supposed to do this? I wasn’t skilled in this kind of etiquette. Actually, was there a particular way to pass your damp panties to a man in a posh place like this?
“I ordered for us,” he continued, and for a moment I wondered if he’d forgotten what he’d asked for. “Have you got something for me?” His eyes sparkled as he held a strong hand out over the centre of the table.
I nodded and put my hand in his. I slowly let go of the material, watched it spill between his fingers before I drew back my hand.
“Oh, pretty,” he murmured, then held the material up to his nose and sniffed. I was mortified. I was also more turned on than I’d ever been in public before. Could he smell me? Could he feel how wet the crotch was? Did he know how hot following his instructions made me?”
“Mmmm, delicious.” He licked his lips and slipped the lace into his top pocket, fluffing it out like an elaborate handkerchief. I surreptitiously glanced around. No one seemed to be paying us any attention, but surely if someone looked they’d know that a lace hanky wasn’t practical for a man. Surely they’d work it out.
I took a very long, deep swig of my wine. It was sweet and fruity but with a dry edge. I could almost taste those weird things wine snobs always go on about. It was clearly a much classier wine than I was used to drinking.
I tried not to think of it as empty calories. It was a treat. I was going to relax. With a bare bum under my dress and my knickers sticking out of Roman’s top pocket. I’d need all the wine I could get!
“Tasty, isn’t it?” Roman smiled. “It’s my favourite.”
I nodded and took another sip. The alcohol buzzed straight to my brain, or maybe that was just the effect of his smile.
“Your salad, miss.” The waiter had appeared beside us without me even noticing.
“Thank you.”
I bit back my dismay when I saw the leaves drenched in dressing. The tomatoes interspersed with white chunks of mozzarella. I couldn’t eat cheese!
“Just enjoy it,” Roman whispered, picking up his fork. “It’s a treat.”
“Oh, sorry, I’m not — no I’m just on a diet.”
“Not now you’re not, not here with me. Now you’re going to enjoy that good food. Okay? Don’t worry about it.”
“I’m sorry, Roman. It’s taken a lot of hard work to get here and I don’t want to ruin it.” I really was upset that I couldn’t just relax and enjoy the meal like he wanted me to. I wanted him to know why, though.
“Love, I understand. Look.” He pulled his wallet from his pocket and slipped a photo from it over the crisp white table linen to me.
“Who’s that?” I asked, looking at the bearded big guy in the picture.
“Me about ten years ago.”
“Really?” I looked up at Roman and back to the photo.
“Yep, really. I got to a point I wasn’t happy. Changed my habits and now I’m healthy.” He grinned and put the old image of him away again.
I nodded. But Roman had eaten all the dessert at the party, he was munching on the beef without a care. Surely that wasn’t possible.
“Balance, Belle. Balance. Now enjoy your salad. It’s a treat for me as much as for you.”
I nodded and prodded my fork into the lush picture of flavour on the plate in front of me. I took a deep breath and lifted the loaded fork to my lips, opened up and ate.
Roman watched entranced. I smiled and munched, moaned like I’d just had my clit licked and took another bite. It was fresh, tasty and good. I enjoyed it. I swallowed down the guilt, I buried the calculator in my mind which wanted to add up the calories and I just enjoyed it.
“That’s it...” Roman licked his lips as I enjoyed another mouthful.
I blushed. I still wasn’t used to Roman’s intense attention.
“It’s very good,” I admitted. “The mozzarella is so creamy.”
“Watching you eat makes me so hard,” Roman whispered, as I picked the last few leaves from my plate. “You know I’ve got one hell of a hard on for you right now.”
“Have you?”
“Oh yes, I have. Knock your knife to the floor and peek under the table cloth.”
I did what he asked, even though I felt a bit of a fool scrabbling around and I worried my ass might be on show. I poked my head under the cloth and saw that Roman’s trousers were unzipped and he was busy palming his erection!
“Yes, you have.” I commented as I sat back in my chair and smoothed my skirt down. I really didn’t want to give anyone a free flash! I wish I could leisurely wank in public. I could feel my juices clinging to my thighs. I hoped to the high heavens I wouldn’t leave a damp patch on the seat.
“Told you,” he smirked. “The combination of seeing you eat and smelling your alluring musk is driving me mad with desire.”
Just then the waiter came and cleared plates. We smiled, thanked him and sat in a tense silence until he’d gone.
“I so want to fuck you across this table right now.” Roman reached out his hand and took mine. Any onlooker would think we were an innocent young couple exchanging sweet nothings. They couldn’t feel the wet warmth of Roman’s hands. “Can you feel how horny I am for you?”
“Yes,” the reply was more breathy than I anticipated. The words stuck in my mouth as all my moisture seemed to be pooled elsewhere.
“Lick your fingers,” Roman urged. “Taste me.” He snaked his hand back and I looked down at my hand. I really wanted to obey him, not just to make him happy but because I genuinely wanted to taste him. But it was rude to lick one’s fingers, especially in public. I did have some manners.
I looked up at Roman, his intense blue gaze urged me on. I lifted my arm, brought my fingers to my lips and licked. I tasted salt and something lightly sweet like a ripe green grape. I dropped my hand when the waiter approached once again. My cheeks were hot and I am sure the waiter must have known something was going on. He seemed to wink at Roman as he placed our main courses before us.
I wasn’t hungry, not for food anyway. And for a moment I just stared at the white fish arranged so artfully on top of a bed of vegetables and potato. I wasn’t sure I could eat any of it, but then I caught the aroma and my stomach rumbled.
“Tuck in,” Roman said, after swallowing a mouthful of his own dish. “Before it goes cold.”
“Okay, “ I smiled and picked up my fork. I pierced a little bit of everything and placed it in my mouth, very aware of my lips as they pulled off the food. My lips tingled as I chewed. I wondered if Roman still had a hold on himself, but when I looked over he was using both his knife and his fork.
I wondered if he was still hard. I was wet and I wanted the meal to finish so we could fuck. I’d not felt so driven by my desires before Roman came into my life. He made me crazy and I loved it.
“Good food is almost as enjoyable as good sex.” Roman announced.
I wished he’d lower his voice. I was sure the people on the next table could hear every word he said.
“I think so, anyway,” he continued. “How about you?”
“Yes,” I responded, nodding.
“Yes, what?” his eyes sparkled with mirth.
“I agree with you,” I stuffed another mouthful of food between my lips in hopes he’d shut up.
“You agree with what? Come on, Belle, I want you to say it.”
I chewed. The flavour explosions in my mouth distracted me from my unease for a moment, but then I had to speak up.
“I think good food is almost as good as sex.”
Roman nodded and chuckled. “Yes, and we will test out that theory tonight. After dessert I’m going to fuck you, Belle. I can’t wait.”
At least he’d lowered his tone just a little that time.
“I can’t wait either,” I whispered and continued my meal. It really was very delicious and healthy. I thought of the vitamins and minerals with each bite. I wasn’t just shovelling it in. I wasn’t being greedy.
“What are you thinking?” Roman placed his cutlery on his plate. “You look tense.”
“Oh, nothing,” I shook my head. “It’s silly.”
“No, no, tell me.”
“Well, I was just thinking about the vitamins and minerals and goodness. Telling myself I was doing my body good, that I wasn’t being greedy eating this big plate of food. I worry about it, you know.”
“Oh, Belle, I know. I’ve been there. Poised, as you are, on the brink of an eating disorder.”
“What?” I yelled the word a little more forcefully than I meant to and various people looked round at our table.
“Now, now, you know it’s true. You’re obsession with calories is not healthy. How many calories do you allow yourself in a day?”
I wasn‘t sure I wanted to tell him, he was going to make fun of me.
“Enough,” I tutted.
“Tell me,” He demanded.
“Well,” I relented, I didn’t want to make a scene. “I work off a thousand calories. I was doing the recommended one thousand two hundred but I wasn’t losing weight on that.”
“Belle, listen to yourself. You know you’re restricting too much. I understand, I do. I did it for a while myself but you will make yourself ill, trust me on that. Your body has obviously decided you’re at the perfect weight, be happy with that.”
“But I am still fat,” I exclaimed and felt a tear run down my cheek. “I need to lose more.”
“No, no,” he shook his head. “You’re perfect.”
“But —”
“No buts, Belle. Those images you crave to look like, the ones on billboards and in magazines are not real, darling. You are real. You are beautiful. Please don’t ruin that.”
He genuinely meant it. I could see it written in his eyes. He thought I was perfect. Couldn’t he see the extra flab I still needed to lose?
“Roman, I just need to get rid of a few more pounds and then I’ll —”
“That way madness lies,” Roman nodded. “Trust me. Please don’t waste away, Belle.”
“No, no. I couldn’t. I’m not built like that,” I soothed. He looked more upset than I was. It was very peculiar. I wanted to reassure him it’d be okay. I wanted to go back to the fun and games we’d enjoyed earlier.
“Okay, okay,” he nodded. “We’re getting too serious now. Let’s choose dessert.”
I was going to kick up a fuss. I was going to refuse because I couldn’t have dessert on my diet but I took one look at his face and just smiled and nodded. Maybe he was right. Maybe I was being too restrictive. What difference would one dessert make? I could work off the calories tomorrow.
“Okay,” I agreed. “What do you fancy?”
We decided on the same dessert. A fancily named lemon slice, like a cheesecake but not. It was creamy and zesty with just a little crumb at the base to give texture, and a zingy berry compote to contrast. It was delicious and I enjoyed every mouthful.
“So are you ready to go home and fuck, now.” I asked when the plates had been cleared. Roman’s face was a picture of surprise. He laughed.
“Yes, I am ready to fuck, Belle, let me pay the bill first.”
I was anxious to go. My stomach was pleasantly full but my other ache was not fulfilled at all. Roman paid and we exited the restaurant. I was just about to suggest hopping into a taxi to my place when he grabbed my hand and pulled me down a tiny side alley.
“What are you doing?” I yelped as he pushed me against a wall and squashed himself against me.
“Fucking you,” he responded, then dropped his lips to mine for a kiss. My heart was racing. I was outside, in a dirty little street and Roman wanted to fuck me. What if someone saw us?
“It’s been driving me mad being able to smell you all through dinner. I need you.”
He kissed my neck and ran his fingers up my thigh to test the wetness there. I moaned. I was more than ready to be fucked.
“You’re so wet. Fuck, I love it.” He slid his fingers into me, his thumb rubbed against my clit and I mewled in delight.
“Turn around, quickly, put your hands on the wall. Fuck, I am so hard.”
I was scared, anyone could walk past and see me like this but I was also incredibly turned on. I ignored my fears. I turned around and pressed my palms against the rough, crumbly brick. Roman angled my hips, arched me until I was perfectly poised for him.
I glanced left and right, saw no one. I licked my lips as I heard his zip, and I quivered in anticipation as I felt him rolling my skirt up my back. A crinkling of a packet assured me he was being safe — well, as safe as you could be having sex in public! I took a deep breath and moaned it out. He slipped so easily into me. I closed my eyes and let the satisfaction of his cock inside me wash away the fears of detection.
“Oh, Belle...fuck Belle...so good, so good,” he whispered, the heat of his breath tickling the back of my neck. I wasn’t particularly comfortable, the brick was rubbing at my palms, I was sure there’d be scratches and my back and calves ached with the strain. But I was supercharged with arousal and I felt alive. I wanted to giggle with glee but I was too busy gasping and groaning and panting out my pleasure.
“Perfection,” Roman squeezed my hips. “You are absolute perfection, Belle.”
And I felt perfect, in his hands, with him fucking me, I felt like the prettiest girl in the world.
“I can see your ass cheeks jiggle with each impact,” he whispered. “And it turns me on so much. They’re full and juicy and ripe.”
He removed a hand from me and I yelped when it impacted on my exposed buttock. At first I was worried about the noise, would the crack of his hand on me draw attention? Then the fire of the spank broke through the worry and made me hiss with pain. But as he slapped once, twice and a third time I felt the pain mix and meld with the pleasure flowing through my veins and I coasted along on a euphoric high. It felt good being so bad, there where any passer-by could see. My body was alive with orgasmic energy, I felt a sting of ecstasy with each slap. It felt like a mini-orgasm, it was so intense.
Roman stopped after a few more hits and gripped my hips again. I knew he was close to his climax. As I drew his orgasm into my cunt I felt the pleasure flowing through me from top to toe.
That was the beginning of something special. Roman was my ultimate treat, whenever I was with him I felt alive. We had many enjoyable meals with each other and a few we ate off each other, too. I relearnt the joy of food and how to be a gourmet instead of a glutton.
And I always let myself over-indulge in Roman. I could never get enough of him. Some things are just too good to ration.