We’ll Have What They’re Having is based on the way Parrot and I typically enjoy a nice dinner out. We’re not the main characters in the story, but we’re the couple that was their inspiration.
It had been ages since Dave and Molly had been out on a date night, but for their anniversary, he wanted to do it right. He had gotten a recommendation about a small, quaint bistro that was slightly French-inspired, according to a buddy at work he trusted to know about finer things.
Dave held the door open to let Molly walk in first, paining to remember all of the things his father told him to do to impress a date when he was a kid — pull out her seat, order for her, if you’re not sure what to order from the wine list, then order what she likes from the middle of the list. It wasn’t as if he didn’t treat her well, but he acknowledged the whole suave and sophisticated woo-woo thing was a bit of a challenge and the romance just wasn’t sparking between them. He just chalked it up to both of them being pretty casual, ordinary people.
In this place, they were a little too ordinary. He was in a sport jacket with a white dress shirt and tie. Molly was wearing a floral sundress covered with a sweater. They looked as if they were going to church, not a romantic dinner. No wonder why that special something-something wasn’t there. He was sure she felt it, too, but she would never admit to it.
As the hostess seated them at a table, he noticed a couple sitting just two tables away sharing the same side of a banquette, more interested in their conversation than the menus in front of them. As the couple chatted, Dave noticed how the man hung onto his companion’s every word when she spoke and saw how she batted her eyelashes when he replied. He really wanted to be focused on Molly, but this couple was a distraction. He wanted himself and Molly to be just like them.
The guitarist in the corner shifted into another song. Dave had heard the song a thousand times but didn’t know the name of it, but the couple definitely recognized it as “My Romance.” Dave noticed how the man grinned at the woman and how her eyes lit up as if she had just opened up an impressive gift. Their drinks came and he watched them as they clinked glasses over cocktails and looked at each other as if they were kissing with their eyes. He wanted to look at Molly like that, too, but not through those glasses with the heavy and dark squared-off frames.
“Let me see you without your glasses,” he told her.
Molly obliged, but said something about not being able to read the menu. For that matter, he couldn’t read it either — prix fixe, composed confit of duck salad, smoked pistachio crusted beet and goat cheese terrine. And the wine list? It was more like a book with each varietal having its own page.
He smiled at Molly, sans lenses. She smiled back and seemed to like the attention, but he was scared shitless about what he’d do next to notice. Then he saw the couple at the other table again. The waiter brought them a tray of oysters. Oysters? Ugh, he thought, but then he saw the man bring the shell up to his companion’s lips as she cocked her head back to swallow the fresh, fleshy meat. A few morsels later, the woman leaned over and dabbed the side the man’s mouth with her napkin. He grinned and laid his hand on her thigh.
“That’s it; I want what they’re having,” Dave said to himself. He saw his saving grace as the waiter was at the station at the back of the room. He excused himself and hoped Molly would think he was only going to the men’s room.
“Listen, sir, you’ve got to help me,” Dave said to the waiter. “I don’t know what in the hell I’m doing. Pretend that you’re making suggestions when you take our order, but I just want what that couple sitting over there is having.”
The waiter smiled and said he would comply. Dave shook his hand and slipped him a $20 bill.
Bold and confident, Dave came up from behind Molly, dragged his fingers along her shoulder down along her arm as he sat himself back down. Molly perked up and smiled as if she were glowing. She sat up straighter and threw her shoulders back just a bit. “Damn, if that doesn’t make her tits pop out,” he thought to himself, but instead he told her, “You look gorgeous tonight.”
From that point on, the wine flowed freely, as did the conversation. A joke or two here, a sly double entendre there. He noticed they both were leaning closer toward each other as they flirted with verbal foreplay that was more powerful than tearing off clothes and clawing at each other like wild beasts. At one point, Molly slipped her foot along the side of his calf and stroked it for a moment.
As they fed each other oysters, Molly slipped her sweater off her shoulders and Dave responded by saying, “I can’t wait to take more off of you tonight.” At first, he shocked himself by saying something like that for anyone within earshot to hear, and most of all, fearing that such a public comment would embarrass and offend Molly. Instead, she swung her hair back and let out a deep, throaty laugh, as if to say, “Come and get me.”
He felt his rod snap out straight to attention between his legs. He thought about asking to have dinner wrapped to go — in a hurry — but decided to take control of the situation to see where things would go, putting the abstinence-heart-fonder equation to the test.
Dave became less interested in the couple at the other table and had never noticed how the man’s hand slipped under his partner’s dress and crept up her thigh. And what they were having for dinner — seared scallops and roasted quail — was working wonders for them, too. The scallops and the orange-citrus glaze were about as sweet as he imagined Molly’s kisses would be wandering down his chest, over his belly, and leading to his cock. His heart raced when Molly gave him a taste of the succulent quail that could only be matched by the juiciness he imagined was simmering in that tender pot between her legs. It had to be. She was shifting and squirming in her seat, crossing her leg over her knee and letting her shoe dangle off her foot.
“Dessert, coffee, an aperitif?” the waiter asked. Molly shook her head no. Dave drew a sigh of relief and asked for the check. As soon as he got it, he threw the cash in the bill folder. “Adios, thank you, it was lovely, but we’re out of here,” said Dave as he swept Molly out of her chair.
In their charge along the sidewalk back to the car, Molly yanked Dave into a narrow alley between two buildings and probed him with a deep, powerful kiss. Her arms couldn’t wrap themselves around enough parts of his body. One of David’s hands unapologetically swooped under the hem of her dress to grab her ass and the other unzipped his trousers. In their tussle, Dave hoisted and pinned Molly against the wall. She wrapped her arms around his back and locked her legs around his hips, her pussy warm, slick and welcoming to his hard and forceful wand inside of her. The heat between their bodies ignited like a flame that blazed out any sense of decorum and fueled their thrusting that allowed him to plow deeper and harder than he ever recall.
Molly was slippery, oh so slippery. She sought his mouth to muffle her whimpers that grew more intense each time he plowed into her. The faster he went, the more her whimpers transformed into breathy gasps that searched not for air, but for that release that was making her tremble deep inside. He squeezed the cheeks of her ass to twist and tweak those gasps and the wincing of her vaginal walls that clenched his cock even tighter.
There seemed to be no distinction between Dave, Molly and the wall. He was hard-pressed to go any further, and the break that came felt like the force of a giant waterfall, the two of them swept away by the power they generated. It was like a long free fall in which Molly’s feet fell back to the ground and both of them held onto each other as if to help each from collapsing to the ground.
As Dave looked into Molly’s eyes to kiss her, he didn’t see the same modestly cute woman he sought so hard to impress just with polite manners and a nice dinner just a few hours ago. With her tousled hair in the glow of her light sweat, she looked more like a ravishing warrior princess that could take on any temptation that came her way. Any sense of insecurity he had about finding the sophistication to woo her was long gone. That sense of conquering the night made him feel victorious until Molly started laughing.
“Do you really think I meant for that to happen?” Molly laughed, now almost hysterically.
Dave got this “What? What? That was the hottest, most mind-blowing sex we ever had and you’re laughing?” look on his face until he saw her point to the other end of the narrow alley that opened up to a parking lot.
“I pulled you in here because this is a short cut to where we parked our car,” she said.
Dave picked Molly up, spun her around, and got turned on all over again by her sense of humor.
Dave and Molly continued laughing on their way to the car, completely oblivious of a little European coupe with windows that were fogged all around.
“There’s that couple from the restaurant,” said the man to his lady friend who had just collapsed on his shoulder in the back seat of his car. “They look like they had a good time. I wonder what they had for dinner.”
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