Not Everything Is on the Menu

Part 1 - A dinner fantasy

The ad said, “Extensive menu, great view, impeccable service.” I never imagined that this would be so true.

I had been traveling for about ten days in California. This was my last night in Long Beach, the last stop on a pretty good trip. When I travel on my company’s expense, I usually try to keep it reasonable. But when the customer is paying the bill, I like to indulge in as much decadence as I can find. So I picked a reasonably expensive place to enjoy a good dinner. I figured that I would eat a good meal and then get to sleep early. But the menu was a little more extensive and exquisite than originally thought, and the view was dramatic and compelling. And the service, well…

“Your server tonight will be Lori,” the host said as he seated me. She was taking the orders of the people at the corner table. The view was quite wonderful as I watched her in action. White blouse, short black skirt, black stockings, wonderful figure. She flew by my table with a breathless “Be right with you,” hustling to place the dinner orders. “Take your time, I’m in no hurry,” I replied as she turned the corner. And I wasn’t in a hurry at all. I had brought my newspaper to read, trademark of the lonely traveler. I pulled it out but barely read anything, preferring to gaze out the window at the setting sun and the bay. Not a bad view, but it gets better.

She really did take her time coming back, not that I really cared that much, even though I was kind of hungry. She came back with salads and soups for the other table then came over to my table. She introduced herself and asked how I was doing. I responded that I was doing very well, and the items on the menu looked very good. Her eyes sparkled as she said, “Not everything is on the menu.” Now, I wasn’t sure if she was referring to the night’s dinner specials, but I caught a little double meaning in her statement, a tone in her voice. I immediately responded with something that might help me find out more.

“Well, I had plenty of time to look over the menu, and had selected what I thought was pretty good item, but maybe you have a better idea …” I left it open-ended, allowing her the opportunity to take it further if she wanted, or stop it there if she chose to. My heart was beating at bit faster.

“Why don’t you tell me what you picked, and I’ll tell you some of the specials later.” She smiled, and I still wasn’t sure what was going on, so I went ahead and ordered my drink, salad, and dinner. When I asked for a particular salad dressing, she said they did not have it. When she brought the drink, she said they did not have the kind of beer I had ordered. I expressed mock disappointment at both, but she didn’t seem to be too worried that I’d be upset.

She brought the salad and asked if I wanted ground pepper. “Tell me when to stop,” she said. When I said stop, she ended the flow of pepper onto the salad, but bent over and whispered in my ear, “I’ll bet that’s the last time you say ‘Stop’ tonight.” I think she embarrassed herself a bit with that remark, and she hurried off. That little comment sent my pulse rate through the roof!

I watched her carefully as she came back and forth to check on the other tables. She rarely looked at me, but I’m sure she could feel my gaze following her every movement. She brought my dinner, carefully removing the lobster from the shell, preparing my baked potato, placing it in front of me. “Enjoy,” she said. My heart was beating faster than it should be about dinner. I was enjoying already and hadn’t even tasted the dinner.

She stopped back and checked on me a few times. I don’t even use salt, but there was no salt shaker on the table, so I made a bad joke about previous customers stealing it, and asked for a replacement, once again feigning disappointment. She laughed and brought salt and another pepper from a different table. “Let me spice up your life,” she quipped, beating me at my own game of bad puns. We chatted a little more; she told me about being away from work for a while and that she was happy to be back, I told her about being on the road for work and having a bit of fun while I was at it.

I thoroughly enjoyed the dinner, my mind wandering, wondering what was going on. Was there really a seduction in progress here, or was it just kidding around? If it was a seduction, who was the seducer and who was being seduced? I enjoyed watching her busily helping the other customers, quickly gliding through the aisle with such grace and beauty. As well as being very attractive, she also seemed happy and confident. This combination of characteristics I find to be all too rare, and all these turn me on very much.

She came and took my empty plate, saying, “You’ve done well here.” I responded, “Does that mean I can have dessert?” “We’ll see,” she responded, and the seduction in her voice was quite evident. She brought the dessert table, and once again, I acted disappointed at the unavailability of ice cream.

She brought the check and I gave her a credit card. She returned, and in the folder with the bill was a short note. It read as follows:

As your server tonight, I was disturbed that I was not able to offer you all the things you desired. In an effort to serve you to the fullest, please write your hotel name and room number on the other side of this note, so that your “dessert” may be delivered to you. But remember, “not everything is on the menu”.

I looked around to see if I could see her, but she was nowhere to be found. I signed the bill, took her note and wrote on the back “Long Beach Hilton, Room 806.” As I left, I looked around for her, to no avail. I drove back to my hotel and went to my room. I hoped that she really meant what was in the note, but thought it was unlikely that anything would come of it.

A little while later, I heard a knock on the door. I got up to open the door, and a card was being slid under the door. On one side it said, “No salt, no raspberry salad dressing, none of you brand of beer, no ice cream. However, remember that not everything is on the menu. A dessert that is not on the menu awaits you if open the door.”

On the other side, was the name of her restaurant, with their slogan: “Extensive menu, great view, impeccable service.” When I opened the door, I saw how extensive the menu really was, truly appreciated the view, and the service, well, that’s another story… so here goes!

Part 2 - A dessert fantasy

I opened the door, and Lori was standing there, still wearing her waitress garb, a tray held aloft in one hand, with a big bowl of ice cream and a spoon on it. She stepped into the room, closed the door with her free hand, then put her arm around me and pulled us together. She planted her lips on mine and we kissed a long time, first lips, then swirling tongues. I loved the way her lips felt on mine, the way her kisses felt, the sensations her tongue sent to me. She pulled away, and I realized she was still holding the tray! We laughed, and she put the tray on the TV.

“Are you still interested in dessert?” she asked in a most seductive voice.

“I’d like to order something that’s not on the menu,” I replied, matching her erotic voice tones. “Can you suggest something?”

“Well, a little-known specialty of the house is ‘Lori al a mode’. Would you like to try a taste before you order?” Without waiting for an answer, she pulled her blouse out of her skirt, unbuttoned the bottom few buttons, exposing her belly. She took the ice cream bowl and a spoon and lay on the big hotel bed. She scooped out a spoonful and put it in her navel, then used the spoon to spread it around. Immediately the ice cream started to melt on her.

“Taste?” she said. Never had one word sounded so sexually charged. I started licking the ice cream from her tummy, smearing some around more, licking it from her belly button, making a big mess all over her stomach. She giggled and ran her fingers through my hair.

“Let me serve the next course,” she said as I licked the last of the cream from her belly. She unbuttoned the blouse and slipped it off, then unhooked her bra to reveal her lovely breasts. Her nipples were hard and protruding, coaxed forward by the frozen concoction. She took the ice cream bowl again and put each breast into the ice cream, coating her nipples with the melting sweetness, offering them to me.

I watched a drop of melting vanilla cream roll off one breast, then moved to lick her nipple. The taste of the sweet liquid mixed with the hardness and heat of her nipple was a delight. I moved to the other breast quickly, so that no more would be wasted, lasciviously lapping up the luscious lather. Then I pushed her breasts together, tonguing both nipples together. I’m not sure who was enjoying this dessert more, she or I.

She pushed me away and stood up, unzipping her skirt. When she revealed the black stockings and garter belt that held them up, I realized why she had been feeling so sexy tonight at work. As she dropped her skirt to the floor, I saw she was not wearing panties. My lustful expression must have been obvious. She remarked, “Do you like your waitress’s uniform now?” Though I could hardly make words or even catch my breath, I managed to pant, “I’ve got a feeling that you’re going to get a good tip.”

“Let’s see the tip first, before I continue to serve you.” I stood up, and she undid my belt, unbuttoned and unzipped my pants, letting my trousers drop. She smiled at the black silk boxers. Pulling them down, she reached for the bowl and stirred the ice cream with my half-hard penis, coating it with the sticky love lotion. She knelt, put the entire shaft into her mouth, and sucked all the cream right off. She took a big spoonful of the ice cream into her mouth, then put my cock into her mouth too. The sensations of the cold of the ice cream and the heat of her mouth were incredible. My cock grew hard in her mouth. She continued this wonderful treatment, until I took the bowl from her and had her lay on the bed.

Her feet were still on the floor and I spread her legs, enjoying the view of her neatly trimmed bush and the petals of her vaginal flower. I took a big spoonful of the ice cream and positioned the spoon over her pussy. I let the ice cream slide off the spoon and drop onto her bush. She gasped at the cold in contact and contrast with her heat. I let it melt over her, sliding down her pussy lips. I licked all the places where there were trails of melted ice cream, sucking it from the curly hairs, licking it from her labia, avoiding her clitoris for the time being. I put another spoonful on my tongue and smeared it all over her pussy lips, mixing it with her nectar. I continued to lick and tease her as she moved her hips around to increase the pleasure, trying to get me onto her clit. Finally, I took a small spoonful and carefully placed it on her love button, then used my tongue to hold it in place until she squirmed. I lapped up the ice cream, then used my tongue and lips to re-warm her clit. In fact, in a few minutes she was boiling over, love juices flowing onto my tongue.

I looked up and smiled. She looked at me with lustful eyes, saying, “I think I like the tip. In fact, I like the whole thing! Let me suggest another item that is not on the menu. This is the dessert specialty of the house and reserved for only the most discerning customers - Lori pie! Want a piece?”

I placed my cock at the entrance to her sweetness, then slid it slowly into her wetness. As I watched my dick disappear into her, I also watched the lust in her eyes. We moved together, in and out, around and around, faster, slower, faster. She raised her hips to meet my thrusts, and I could feel her squeeze my penis with her vaginal muscles. She wrapped her legs around my back and we moved in an ecstatic frenzy. We cried out together, a mixture of moans, ooohs, aaahs, screams.

I know this dessert was not on the menu or I’d have ordered it immediately!