FOOD CRITIC
(c) Carrie Kingsley
"Good evening Sir, my name is Sarah and I'll be your waitress this
evening; are you ready to order?"
She sounded almost as sexy as she looked, the introductions occurring
as I perused the menu of the new restaurant I was here to review.
Leaning over she filled my wine glass and gave me a prime view of her
very ample honey-skinned bosom; she smelled of vanilla and exotic
spices. I tried not to make it obvious but I breathed her in; I was
enchanted.
I had been in the food critic business for more than a decade now,
each restaurant I reviewed in my column was instantly the hot new
place to be that week. Consequently I was a very popular man, and
certainly never went hungry. I always did my reviews alone though; I
find sitting in a restaurant alone gives you more of an opportunity
to soak in the true atmosphere of the place, there's no distractions
from mundane conversation.
I had never married and probably never would. Having been named
Bachelor of the Year three times in the last seven years, I was not
short of female attention, though I preferred to keep to myself most
of the time. I was what a lot of women described as broodingly
handsome, something between James Dean and Pierce Brosnan; probably a
bit of a fuddy duddy when it came down to it though.
So far I liked the look of this new restaurant, it had it's grand
opening just shy of two weeks ago, and I had waited in my usual
fashion until the hype had died down about it before making my review.
Hype did nobody any favours, and merely muddied the waters. It had a
cool urban interior with rich chocolate brown walls, a stainless steel
bar, and cream and beige napkins sat on dark chunky wood tables.
People sat in comfortable white-covered tub chairs. Smooth R&B music
played on the stereo as I gave my sexy waitress my order, and as I
watched her perky arse wiggle its way back to the kitchen while I
sipped my shiraz, I couldn't help my mind from drifting into a quiet
reverie...
Her lips were full and pouty as she leaned over me, that
luscious scent filling my nostrils. Closer she came, her
blonde hair tickling my face until finally our lips touched;
she tasted fruity, with top-notes of berries and apricots.
Powerful, and a little more forceful in her kiss than I usually
liked, she was also velvety soft with a clean bouquet exuding
freshness. The colour of her lipstick was intense and youthful,
the colour of ripe blackberries in the sun, and I wondered what
those beautiful lips would feel like around -
"Your entrée sir," the object of my desire placed a plate in front of
me, bending over a little more than absolutely necessary and allowing
me yet another generous glance at her décolletage and beyond. Her smile
didn't hide very well the fact she knew what effect this usually had,
and I thought to thank her for my course when her hand brushed my
shoulder and the words escaped me as an electric shock surprised us
both.
"Yeowch! I am terrible sorry sir! These darn shoes on this carpet, I
really should get some new ones," Sarah rubbed my shoulder as she spoke,
the contact sending a warm glow down to the pit of my stomach. I
shifted my napkin in my lap, hoping to cover the ensuing erection as
she refilled my wine glass, and left smiling.
I looked down at the entrée in front of me; two big field mushrooms
stuffed with hot Mexican salsa. As I ate, I saw Sarah serving other
patrons with not half the attention she had given me. She obviously
knew I was here to review the place and was being extra diligent, but
really, I couldn't help myself...
Our lips parted and I started to unbutton her stiff white shirt.
Sarah stopped me before I got very far though and she instead
started kissing my neck. She couldn't stop me from looking,
however, and as she worked her way up to my earlobe, the two
perfect mounds were practically in my face. She was wearing a
beige-coloured bra that seemed to be a size too small, as she
appeared positively stuffed into it, her breasts pouring over
the top. My hands brushed over them lightly while she sent
shivers down my spine, my lobe having found its way between her
lips. It was hard to concentrate with her tongue in my ear,
but I managed to pull down her bra far enough that I could see
her pink rounded nipples jutting out at me. I wrapped my lips
around one of them; they tasted the same way she smelled, spicy
and warm and comforting. She was making me so hot with her
gliding tongue, as I pulled on her nipple with my teeth I felt
a tiny droplet of sweat run down my face, my erection now
threatening to burst out of my pants -
"Would you like a jug of water, sir, I understand the mushrooms are
very spicy," Sarah the hot waitress, not the Sarah of my dreams, smiled
warmly, and I adjusted the napkin yet again in my lap for fear of her
noticing the bulge. I thanked her, accepting the offer, as my throat
was painfully dry and there was indeed a few drops of sweat forming on
my forehead. I was almost embarrassed at my thoughts as she poured the
sweet cool water into a glass, and took my empty entrée plate back to
the kitchen.
Halfway there, the fork fell from the plate and she bent over to pick
it up, her arse facing me through the tight black skirt she wore that
fell to her knees. I could see the outline wonderfully, she was clearly
wearing no underwear, and the small split up the back allowed me a peek
at her smooth caramel-coloured thigh. Realising I was staring, I
looked away, my face flushing hot and I downed the glass of water in
front of me, pouring another.
I had composed myself reasonably enough by the time my main course
arrived, and I tried to concentrate more thoroughly on the job at hand.
I had ordered the steak, and on my plate was a big juicy T-bone,
smothered in a dark creamy pepper sauce, with sides of long halved
roasted carrots and marinated artichoke hearts. It seemed to taste okay,
but honestly, my mind wasn't on the food with Sarah sashaying between
the tables in front of me, her eyes sneaking my way now and then; to
check on my progress, I'm sure. The walk, so alluring with her hips
swaying on each step, obviously from the heels she wore and not for my
benefit, but still...
Tutting and wagging a finger at me, Sarah pulled her bare tits
away from my reach. Unzipping my pants, she knelt between my
legs and freed my huge boner, which was very hard by now.
Teasing me, she started with the tip of her tongue at the base,
then licked long and hard up the length of my cock, before
putting it between her sweet wet lips. I leaned my head back on
the chair as I fucked her hot mouth, her tongue driving circles
around the tip of my cock as it moved against her berry
coloured lips. Her long fingernails tickled my balls as she
sucked me, and she moaned a little as she pulled my cock
further into her mouth; her brown eyes looked up at me, eating
me up in her stare and tugging at my heart. I felt near coming
and grabbed the back of her head, pushing her mouth as far down
my cock as she would let me, before my searing white cum
spurted down her throat. She swallowed every drop, and then
licked my cock clean before looking up at me as if to say -
"Was the steak to your liking, sir?" Sarah with the honey-flavoured
voice brought me back to reality.
"Yes it was just as I like it, medium-rare," I tried not to linger my
eyes too long at her tits, where during the course of the night she had
undone the top two buttons of her shirt. It was a warm night, so she
could not be blamed; it was not as if she were trying to seduce me at
the table or anything. Still, when Sarah brought out the dessert menu,
our fingers touched as she passed it to me, and she appeared to hold on
to it longer than necessary as she told me the chef's recommendations.
She went back to the kitchen with my order of the dark chocolate mousse,
and I took my leave by way of a quick trip to the men's room. I
splashed a little cold water on my face, and had to count backwards
from thirty before I could pee. It would have been overtly out of line
to ask for the waitress's number at the restaurant I was reviewing, but
maybe I could come back another time, or wait until her shift was over.
I stopped my crazy considerations and headed back to my table, where
dessert sat waiting for me.
The mousse was smooth and rich and creamy, sitting in an edible
chocolate cup, surrounded by a rough garnish of strawberry sauce.
Dessert was my favourite part of any meal, the time when hunger was no
longer an issue, the dish itself a mere indulgence. I brought the spoon
to my lips, and looked out the window into the night...
Sated and slightly weary, I lifted Sarah onto the table that
sat in front of me and pulled up her skirt. She attempted to
stop me, but as I ran my hands over her hard nipples and kissed
the inside of her thigh, she relented; leaning back, she closed
her eyes as I spread her legs before me. Licking her smooth wet
pussy, she tasted like caramel and musky peppermint, her little
hard clit like a cherry as I sucked it slowly. My tongue did
small figure eights around it, and then I buried it into the
depths of her, dark and creamy. Sarah's moans got louder when I
placed my thumb on her clit as I tongue-fucked her, her hips
riding the table, legs in the air over my shoulders. With a
huge shudder she groaned and then came, her juices wetting the
table beneath her, cutlery falling to the floor beside her -
"Coffee or tea, sir?" I looked away from the window to the beauty at my
side, and shook my head. One more moment in this place and I would be
utterly ropable.
"No, thank you kindly," I answered her, and motioned for the check to
be brought. As I stood at the front bar and paid for my meal, I noticed
the waitress disappearing through the kitchen door, but not before
giving me one last smoldering look.
I turned around and saw a much younger man in the window, and at last
decided I was being ridiculous; this apparent seduction was all in my
imagination, and so I went home to write my review.
"Tantalising dishes for all the senses, the wine flowed, the
T-bone steak was juicy, and the chocolate mousse rich and tasty.
This is one critic who will be visiting again."
* * *
"So did it work, love?" the chef of the hot new restaurant greeted his
wife, Sarah, who stood in the corner of the filthy kitchen doing her
top shirt buttons up. "Do you think we'll get a good review?" He stood
in front of a greasy counter-top, and wiped his nose with the back of
his hand before resuming his cooking.
"I had him panting like a puppy," Sarah laughed, and their restaurant
prospered well after the review appeared in the paper.
The critic, to this day, often walks past the cool urban restaurant to
see the pretty waitress that works there, but she never appeared to him
again.
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Disclaimer: All characters are fictional and any similarity to any person real
or fictional is purely coincidental.