by Amy Brent
I felt my heart jump a little in my chest. Even though the thought of more food made my stomach churn, the thought of spending more time with Sammy made my toes tingle. I smiled demurely and said, “I’d like that.”
“Awesome,” he said, pushing himself back from the table. “Any preference as to the restaurant?”
“I’ll let you pick,” I said. “I’m a pretty basic girl when it comes to food. Although, I don’t eat anything I can’t pronounce.”
“That’s a great rule to live by.”
“I think so.”
“Okay, let me give it some thought and I’ll text you the plan. I’ll pick you up around eight-thirty at your place?”
“Yes,” I said, feeling my cheeks flush like a schoolgirl being asked out by the coolest boy in school. “That sounds lovely.”
“Lovely,” he said, a big smile on his face. He fished two fingers in his back pocket for a moment and came out with his card. “That’s my cell number. Text me your digits.”
“My digits?”
“Your digits. Your phone number and address?”
“Oh, yes, duh, I can do that.”
“Well, this has been fun,” he said, reaching across the table to take my hand. I thought he was going to shake my hand. Instead, he brought my knuckles to his lips and gave them a gentle kiss.
“Until we meet again, my lady.”
I playfully rolled my eyes. “Yes, sweet prince, until we meet again.”
He smiled at me. I smiled at him.
He got up to leave and I took out my phone and dialed a number I hadn’t used in a long time. I might have been jumping the gun a little, but better prepared than surprised.
“Hi, this is Andrea Nichols… Yes… I’m fine… I was wondering… Could I come in this afternoon… yes… for a bikini wax?”
Like my dad used to say, “Always keep the lawn trimmed because you never know who might be driving by.”
Enough said.
Chapter 10: Sammy
The rest of my day was just god-awful, unbelievably long and incredibly boring. I sat through half a dozen meetings, listened in on a dozen conference calls with international vendors, answered several dozen emails, and still could not tell you the topic of a single one. I tried by best to focus, but I simply could not pay attention to anything going on around me. My entire brain, every burnt-out cell of it, every thought, every idea, every notion, was quickly overridden by thoughts of Andrea Nichols.
I kept seeing her sitting across the cafeteria table from me… luscious red hair… big blue eyes… wide mouth… kissable lips... long neck… Then magically, her clothes disappeared and I was climbing across the table to ravage her right there in front of the lunch time crowd. Just thinking about her made my cock plump up in my pants, something a guy my size has a hard time hiding.
I even thought about stepping into my private bathroom to pump one out using the dirty video Carina had sent me for those times when I needed a little relief and she wasn’t around. In the video, Carina had a GoPro strapped to a giant dildo and was… well… never mind.
I spent the afternoon watching the clock and counting down the hours until I picked her up for our date. Our date… Shit, where the hell do you take a girl like Andrea? My social life consisted of drinking binges with the boys and long weekends at Club D with the girls. I wasn’t even sure I remembered what to do on a date, much less where to take a nice girl on one.
I sat with my desk chair turned toward the wall of windows and tried to remember the last time I had been on an actual date. Was it a year ago, that chick I met at that fundraising thing… No, we just fucked in the restroom after dinner. Wasn’t exactly what I’d call a date. Wait, there was that model a few months back, when I was in Cannes for the film festival. Yes, we went on a date… no, wait… she just gave me a blowjob in the back of the limo and nearly gagged on my… shit.
I had not had a date-date in years. I had no idea what to do or where to do it or how to act.
I needed help from a master.
I picked up the phone and called…
“Amy Rossetti,” the love of Isaac’s life said sweetly after her secretary patched me through. “Sammy? Is that you?”
“It is,” I said, clearing my throat, trying not to sound nervous. “I uh, well, I have a question that I hope you can answer. Or at least point me in the right direction.”
“Okay, is it about cybersecurity?” she asked. Cybersecurity was Amy’s area of expertise and there was nobody better at it. IDS and dozens of other companies paid her millions of dollars a year to help keep their data safe. “Has something happened at IDS? You guys haven’t been hacked, have you?”
“No, no, nothing like that,” I said quickly. “It’s just that, well, I may have a... well, a date tonight and I have no idea where to take her.”
Amy giggled in my ear. “You may have a date or you do have a date?”
“I… have a date. And if you tell Isaac or Denny I’ll have to hunt you down and bear hug you to death.”
“Relax, big guy, your secret is safe with me,” she said. “So, who is the lucky girl?”
“Her name is Andrea Nichols.”
“Oh, I know Andrea. She’s Denny’s assistant marketing director… tall… very tall, in fact... red hair… gorgeous…” She hummed in my ear. “Good for you, Sam. She’s quite the looker. You two will make quite a couple.”
“Well, I don’t know about that,” I huffed. “I mean, it’s just a date.”
“Sure, that’s how me and Isaac started out and look at us now. So, what were you thinking?”
I shrugged with the phone wedged between my ear and shoulder. “I honestly have no idea. Last time I was on a date the iPhone 4 was state of the art.”
“Oh my god, you’re such a nerd if that’s your point of reference,” she said, giggling again. “Okay, well, dinner is always a good idea. A girl has to eat. Do you know what kind of food she likes?”
“Uh, well, we had burgers and fries for lunch,” I said, exhaling loudly at my still-full belly. “She said she was a pretty basic kind of girl. She won’t eat anything she can’t pronounce.”
“Okay, so no French or anything fancy I’m guessing,” Amy said. “And I assume there’s no need to impress her with your money.”
I smiled. “No, I don’t think she’s that kind of girl.”
“Okay, well you had burgers and fries for lunch. How about seafood for dinner? A nice lobster? Shrimp? Salmon. The fresher the better.”
“That might work,” I said. “I’ll bet she loves seafood. There’s a Captain Dee’s near my house…”
“Uh, no.”
“No?”
“No, you don’t take a girl like Andrea Nichols to fucking Captain Dee’s on a first date,” she said as if she were scolding me for saying something totally ridiculous. I loved Captain Dee’s. I didn’t see the big deal.
She said, “It really has been a while since you had to impress a girl with anything other than your money, huh.”
“Yes, so shut up and help me.”
“Fine, okay, how about Fisherman’s Wharf? It’s wonderful and you can sit by the ocean and watch the tide come in while you eat.”
“Great,” I said, turning toward my computer to pull up Fisherman’s Wharf’s website to make an online reservation. “What then?”
“What then?”
“Yeah, after dinner. What do we do?”
“Well, Sam, do you think she’ll want to go back to your place?”
I felt my cheeks getting hot like a little boy caught beating his meat in the locker room (don’t ask why that analogy popped into my mind). “Well, Amy, I don’t know. I mean, do people do that on a first date?”
“Do what?” she asked. I could tell by her voice that she was smiling, fucking with me.
“Do that,” I said. “You know, have sex?”
“Jesus, Sammy, have you been going to Club D so long you’ve forgotten how to treat a woman who’s not on your payroll?”
I huffed in her ear. “Well, technically, she is on my payroll.”
“You know what I mean, you big dope,” Amy said, clicking her tongue. “I don’t think Andrea Nichols is going to give up the goods like those freak shows you guys have working at Club D.”
It wasn’t hard to detect the disdain in her voice when it came to the topic of Club D. Even though she and Isaac hooked up there when Amy snuck in a guest, she did not hold the place in too high esteem. Even Denny’s girl, Serena, who was working her way through college as a waitress at Club D, kept harping on Denny to sell his interest. We had already agreed to turn over ownership of Club D to a charitable trust. Obviously, it was not happening fast enough for Amy and Serena.
And that led to another thought…
Hmmm, wonder what Andrea would say if she knew we owned Club D and spent my weekends frolicking with the likes of Carina the Great… That was a secret she’d never have to learn if I had anything to do with it. Besides, if things worked out between us, I might never go back to Club D again. Other than to say goodbye to Carina one last time… Or two…
“Okay, so dinner at Fisherman’s Wharf, then we just play it by ear,” I said.
“There you go,” Amy said, her voice pleasant again. “And after dinner maybe you take a walk along the pier or go for a nice drive.”
“Or go back to her place and fuck each other’s brains out!”
“What the…” I held the phone away from my ear for a moment, scowling at it. I tapped the speaker button and growled into the phone. “Jesus Christ, Amy, is Isaac there with you? Am I on the fucking speaker phone?”
“He made me do it!” Amy said, giggling again.
“Hey there, big guy,” Isaac said, his amused voice coming through the little speaker. It made me want to crush the phone in my hands like it was his head. “Sorry, couldn’t help but overhear. Sounds like your lunch with Andrea went great! I was the one who suggested that Denny hook you up with her so you two could start your very own Land of the Giants. You’re very welcome!”
“Fuck you very much,” I said, shaking my head.
“Hey, if you need a condom there are some hefty bags under the sink in the kitchen,” Isaac said. “Use the ones with the draw string.”
“You’re an asshole, Isaac,” I said, holding the phone close to my lips. “I’m gonna kick your ass the next time I see you.”
“I’ll get help and kick your ass if you screw this up with Andrea,” he said. “This could be your one shot at a girl who can truly make you happy.”
“Whatever,” I growled, knowing he was right.
“Don’t whatever me, young man,” he said, cracking himself up.
“Sammy, just ignore him,” Amy said.
“I will,” I said angrily.
“And Sam?”
“Yes, Amy?”
“Go on home and take a shower and put on clean underwear. You never know where this night might lead.”
Chapter 11: Andrea
Talk about being a nervous wreck. I was usually cool as a cucumber (there’s that word again), but by the time I trudged through my afternoon of meetings and phone calls, rushed to the spa to have my cooch waxed (I left a little line of red curls just in case Sammy didn’t like his women totally bare, I know, presumptuous), then rushed home to shower and change (what the hell should I wear???), it was nearly time for Sammy to pick me up for our date. In fact, when the doorbell rang, I was still trying to get my hair to behave. I gave up and pulled it into a tight ponytail at the crown of my head, checked my reflection in the mirror one more time, then rushed to the door.
Whew, that was a lot of rushing…
When I opened the door, my heart nearly skipped a beat. There was Sammy Branniff in all his glorious flesh, all six-foot-six of him, shoulders almost as wide as the doorway, holding a bouquet of roses and a big smile on his face.
“Hi there,” he said, holding out the roses like he was passing the Olympic torch. “These are for you.”
“I assumed they were,” I said with a grin, taking the flowers and leaning in to give him a friendly hug. I had to get on my tiptoes to peck him on the cheek. It felt so weird. He was even taller than Pete. “You really didn’t have to bring me roses.”
“Well, my dating coach suggested that it would be a nice gesture,” he said, stepping inside so I could close the door behind him.
I smiled and frowned at the same time. “Your dating coach?”
“Coaches, actually,” he said, giving his eyes a little roll. “Isaac and Amy.”
“Ah, the lovebirds,” I said, holding the roses to my nose so I could gaze at Sammy like a peeping Tom hiding in the bushes. He looked great, casually dressed in a blue button-down with the collar open and the sleeves rolled up. His shoulders were broad and round, his chest thick and full. The cotton of the sleeves stretched against his forearms and biceps. He was wearing loose-fitting jeans that hugged his muscular thighs. And there was no mistaking the outline of his… you know… bulging against the denim like another oversized muscle struggling to pop free.
“You look great,” he said, following me into the kitchen so I could put the roses in a vase with water. I could practically feel his eyes burning into my ass as he followed close behind. I had put on a pair of black slacks and high heels, with a sleeveless turquoise top that showed off my own tanned guns. I was planning on putting a waisted black jacket on to match the slacks. For some reason, the way Sammy was looking at me made me think that I was not going to need the jacket. Or the top. Or the slacks. Or the bra. Or the thong…
He put his hands behind his back—there was that bulge again—and rocked on the balls of his feet and gave me a look that started me melting in my panties.
The little voice in my head started screaming at the top of its lungs. Oddly enough, the little voice always sounded like my mother.
What are you thinking, Andrea?
Stop looking at his penis, for goodness sake.
You are not a slut.
You are not like those skanky cheerleaders you used to hate.
Stop looking at that.
Andrea?
Are you listening to me?
Andrea?
ANDREA???
Mom’s voice suddenly turned deep.
It was Sammy speaking now.
“Andrea? You okay?”
I realized that I had overfilled the vase at the sink and water was flowing over my hand. I shook away the little voice and turned off the faucet and reached for a towel.
“Uh, yeah, sorry about that. Just had a mild brain fart.”
“Happens to me all the time,” he said, stepping closer. He took the towel and dried my hands off for me.
Little sparks shot up my arms when our fingers touched. My nipples snapped to attention. My mouth went dry as every ounce of liquid in my body rushed to my pussy.
Sammy looked me in the eye.
He smiled.
I got onto my tiptoes and kissed him lightly on the lips.
He kissed me back.
Then, I told the little voice in my head to go screw herself.
It was time to have a little fun.
Chapter 12: Sammy
If I told you that I thought I’d be having sex with Andrea five minutes after walking through her front door, I’d have been lying. There was no way I thought we would be fucking that quickly. NO WAY! I mean, I was glad that we were, but boy oh boy, what a surprise. What a great fucking surprise. Maybe it was the roses… hmmm…
I figured I’d take her to Fisherman’s Wharf for dinner. Maybe take a moonlight stroll down by the pier. Drop her off back at her place, maybe get a peck on the cheek at her front door, and that would be it.
A girl like Andrea, I figured I might get to first base on the first date, second base on the second, then if I was a very good boy and didn’t do anything stupid, I might get lucky the third or fourth time up to bat.
Boy, was I way off base, literally.
It happened so quickly I
almost missed it. I gave Andrea the roses just like Amy told me to. I was polite and didn’t say or do anything dumb. I did watch her ass as I followed her into the kitchen, but come on… I watched her fill up a vase in the sink for the flowers. She overflowed the base. I helped her dry her hands.
And then… BAM!!
She kissed me. And I’m not talking about a first date hello kind of kiss. I’m talking about a full on, lip smashing, tongue thrashing, “Katie bar the door because we’re gonna have a throw down” kind of kiss.
So, I did the polite thing. I kissed her back.
Andrea hung her arms around my neck and swirled her tongue around my lips. I opened my eyes to see her baby blues staring into mine. She started to pull back, but my arms were around her now. She wasn’t going anywhere.
“I’m sorry,” she said, cheeks turning red. “I don’t know what got into me.”
I pushed Amy’s advice about going slow and being the perfect gentleman out of my mind and let Sammy the Sausage take control. He had served me well all these years. I saw no sense in ignoring him now. I had an opening, no pun intended, and I didn’t plan on letting it close.
I rubbed my nose to hers and sighed. “I have something that I would like to get into you.” My cock was already hard as a rock, pushing against the jeans so hard it hurt. I slid my hands down to Andrea’s tight ass and ground her against me. I heard the breath rush past her lips.