Having sex with a woman for the first time is both exhilarating and worrisome at the same time. All kinds of thoughts and questions run through your mind. Did I satisfy her, will she want to see me again and if so will she actually be as sexy as the first time?
As I sat at my desk Thursday morning, staring at my monitor, those thoughts and more distracted me from my work. I was absolutely certain that Ginger would be as, if not more, sexy looking the next time we met. Her somewhat conservative attire when we met at the bar was in stark contrast to the spectacular image I enjoyed when she walked across her bedroom. I watched as she let her tailored slacks slip from her hips revealing her tight milky white ass framed by the black lace of her garter, the almost invisible black lace string of her thong between her cheeks and her black silk stockings. The contrast between the fabric and skin was absolutely incredible. To be totally honest, I couldn't wait for the opportunity to study her ass again and hopefully this time watch my rock hard cock disappear inside what I expected would be a very tight ass. I got a hard-on just thinking about my time with Ginger last night and hearing that she enjoyed anal sex.
I've never been inclined to judge a book by its cover, but in Ginger's case the cover was thoroughly enticing. I suspected that once the book was opened and delved into, it would be the kind that was very difficult to put down. I decided to start the novel as soon as possible. Glancing at the clock which read 11:00 AM, I reached for my iPhone and retrieved her name from the contact list, then pressed call.
"Good morning Allen." Ginger answered confirming she had actually saved my name in her cell phone, and then added. "I didn't expect to hear from you so soon."
"Good morning Ginger." I replied.
"So what's on your mind today?" She asked.
I simply replied. "You are."
"I like that." Ginger answered.
"I've been sitting here all morning trying to get some work done, but all I could think about was seeing you again." I admitted.
She chuckled softly, then in an apologetic tone said. "Well I'm sorry for being such a distraction."
"No need to apologize, I've enjoyed every minute of it." I answered.
"So what should we do about all this daydreaming?" Ginger asked.
I knew this was my chance and jumped at it. "Can I take you to lunch?"
She paused a moment, then replied. "Looks like my calendar's clear from 12:30 till 2:00 this afternoon."
"Great, where do you want to meet?" I asked.
"How about I pick you up at 12:30?" Ginger suggested.
"That sounds great." I commented and then added. "I doubt I could keep up with your little sports car in mid-day traffic. Do you know where our office is?"
"It's at Sixth and Franklin right?" She asked.
"Yes that's correct in the Philmore Building." I answered.
"Okay see you later Allen, oh and by the way I'm very glad you called." She said just before disconnecting.
Our phone conversation did nothing to help me concentrate on my work, and I spent the next 90 minutes dealing with the tight feeling in my chest as the anticipation of seeing her again mounted.
At 12:25 PM I shut down my computer and headed toward the lobby. My stomach was in knots as I waited outside the building, scanning the traffic in search of Ginger's little red BMW. I stood there for about 15 minutes, and began to wonder if she was going to stand me up. "Perhaps her last appointment of the morning had run long." I hopefully thought.
I was about to call her cell phone when Ginger turned the corner and came to an abrupt stop directly in front of me. The passenger side window slid down and she said. "Hop in Allen."
I settled into the passenger seat of her tiny sports car pulling the seat belt over as she hit the gas and sped off. The nervous fluttering in the pit of my stomach began to fade as I glanced toward her.
"How ya doin?" I asked as we blended into traffic and Ginger slowed down a little.
Ginger was wearing a tailored business suit, but today, instead of slacks she wore a matching stove pipe skirt, which had ridden up to mid-thigh as she moved her feet and legs between pedals of the BMW. Just a hint of the darker top of her stocking showed below the hem of her tight skirt.
"My morning sucked." Ginger replied.
I studied her profile as I asked. "Why's that?" Her creamy smooth complexion enhanced by expertly applied make-up almost glowed, and I noticed tiny crow's feet at the corner of her eyes as she squinted in the bright daylight.
Ginger expanded on why her morning sucked. "I found out one of our largest clients is moving to another firm and my 11:30 appointment ran long which cut into our time for lunch."
"I'm in no rush; I don't have anything scheduled until 4:00 PM." I answered letting her know I could take a long lunch.
"Really?" Ginger said as she reached for the Bluetooth connection on the dash.
The phone she was calling rang once. "This is Tim." The caller answered.
"It's me, reschedule my 2:30 for another day early next week, I should be back in time for my 4:00 PM meeting with Cavanaugh." She said.
"Got it, I'll take care of everything." Tim answered.
I assumed Tim was her secretary and asked. "You have a male secretary?"
"He's my administrative assistant." Ginger answered as she glanced toward me with a politically correct grin on her face.
We stopped for a red light giving Ginger time to pull her skirt down a little. Her hand moved to the gear shift which she caressed like a phallus, slowing stroking the lever like it was the Beamer's cock. Ginger noticed that I was watching and moved her hand away. "Sorry force of habit." She explained.
"No problem, I can tell he likes it." I replied with a wide smile on my lips.
The light turned green and we sped off again. It only took one or two shifts for her skirt to slide back up her thighs.
"So where are we going?" I inquired.
"Emilio's." Ginger replied.
"Don't think I know it." I responded.
She glanced toward me then returned her eyes to the road. "It's a hole in the wall Italian place that does no lunch business, but is packed for dinner. The food is great and the service is fast at lunch time." Ginger remarked.
In a minute or two Ginger turned into the parking lot at Emilio's. She was right about the place not doing any lunch business because the lot was basically empty.
"Are you sure they're open?" I asked as she parked the BMW in a space next to the ones designated as handicapped parking.
"I'm sure they are." She answered.
I jumped out of the car, or should I say climbed out, and walked around the back. Ginger was collecting her purse from behind the seat with the driver's door open.
"Let me help you." I said as I extended my hand.
