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The Unlikely Redhead
by Paco Andante (no address provided)

***

A guy goes out to dinner and gets sexually harassed... 
in a good way. (exh, voy, nosex)

***

Author Note: This is a work of fiction and any 
resemblance to reality is completely accidental. Be 
warned that this story involves explicit descriptions of 
sexual activities, including some that may be considered 
off the beaten track. Do not read this story if you 
believe fictional stories should not depict unusual 
situations, are less than the age of consent in your 
social group or if such descriptions violate your code 
of ethics. Batteries and Kleenex not included.

***

It was one of those grubby Fridays at work when 
everything had to be finished by C. O. B., and 
everything went wrong. But I managed to finish by 6:00, 
only an hour late, after all. So I went to Max's, a 
neighborhood bar and grill frequented by tired business 
people for an after work wind-down drink, and later in 
the evening by a younger set, I suppose to "make 
connections."

I wasn't feeling chatty, so I didn't sit at the bar, but 
took a booth toward the back of the place. When he had a 
moment, I went up to the bar and signaled Charlie, the 
bartender, for a double Scotch. He brought it over and 
started a tab. I took the drink and the tab back to the 
booth to watch the above-the-bar TV.

When my Scotch was about half done, a group of three 
good-looking young women came in and noisily seated 
themselves in the booth opposite mine. I had never seen 
any of them before. After watching a few seconds, I 
realized that most of the noise was coming from a 
slightly overweight blonde. She had a raspy, loud voice, 
and was chattering away at the other two. She seated 
herself at the right end of the horseshoe shaped booth.

Next behind her was a slender brunette. She was petite 
and pretty, and wore a pony tail and oversized rimless 
eyeglasses.

The third girl was a striking redhead. Not a carrot-top, 
but one of those dark red-brown heads called "Titian," I 
believe. What made her striking was that she was so 
close to being Miss America material; I know I am being 
too much a perfectionist, but she didn't quite make it 
in almost every detail I noticed. Her hair was her best 
point, nicely coiffed, but in slight disarray, I suppose 
from a long work day. 

Her attractive deep green eyes were set just a little 
too close together, her eyebrows a bit too high, her 
nose just a bit too long, but with a pert ski-slope 
upturn. Her mouth was a little to wide, her lips a bit 
too thick, but delightfully voluptuous. Her cheekbones 
were a bit too prominent, though set at exactly the 
right place on her slightly too wide face. Her ears, 
wearing a triple row of stud earrings, were just a bit 
too large, stood just a little bit too far from her 
head, and had almost no lobes. 

Her breasts, what I could determine since she was 
wearing a suit jacket, were certainly adequate, and not 
overdone. As she slid into the booth, her short skirt 
tightened over her derriere, and for my taste at least, 
it was terrific. Round, prominent, though slender and 
without a hint of droop, it jiggled delightfully as she 
side-stepped into the booth. The overall picture was 
very, very attractive.

The brunette followed her into the booth.

The waitress came and took their orders; Vodka Collins 
for the loud blond, white wine for the brunette, and 
Remy Martin for the redhead.

They chatted, or better said, the blonde chatted and the 
others made short responses. I overheard their names. 
The blonde was Patty, the brunette was Cindy and "my" 
redhead was Julia.

I sat, quietly sipping Scotch, considering how I could 
approach Julia for a date.

She suddenly looked up from her drink, straight into my 
eyes and something electric happened. My whole body 
tingled, my cock jumped to attention, and my balls 
contracted. The gurus speak of "the shock of 
recognition," of friends from a past life or whatever, 
but I had never experienced such a shock before as in 
that incredible moment. And somehow, I knew that she had 
experienced the same.

She broke eye-contact first, and muttered to her 
companions something I didn't get, except I thought it 
contained "ladies room." The brunette slid out to let 
her go, and she sauntered, undulated actually, past my 
booth to the back corridor where the john and jane were.

The noisy blonde kept on chattering office gossip. I 
didn't care to listen.

I noticed that my Scotch was empty just as Michelle, the 
waitress, came by. "Hey, 'Chell," I said, "Another 
double, OK?"

"Hey, George, I didn't see you there."

"It's OK. I got my first one from Charlie. Here, put it 
on the tab."

She left and came back with my drink before Julia came 
back out of the bathroom. But it was only seconds later 
that she did, looking even better. I don't know what she 
had done in there, some feminine magic of coiffure and 
make-up I suppose, but she looked absolutely superb to 
me.

As she passed my booth she casually dropped a little 
lump of cloth on the table before me. As she reached her 
booth the brunette got up to let her in and I picked up 
the lump of cloth and brought it to my lap under the 
table to examine it. I had expected a handkerchief or 
some such.

God! It was her panties!

No sooner than she had settled in her seat, than she 
spread her thighs under her short skirt, aiming herself 
right at me under the table. It was obvious that the 
panties now in my hand were what she had been wearing! I 
was looking directly at her cunny, unfettered by either 
hair or cloth! She continued to talk with her companions 
as though nothing was going on, but she kept wiggling in 
her seat, giving me a real animated peep show.

Now, Max's place is not very well lit. Some of the 
customers might be, but the lighting was generally 
pretty dim. There were, however, spotlights that 
highlighted the table tops so that people could see what 
they were eating and drinking. 

Well, there was such a spotlight on the booth the three 
girls were at, and there was a spill-over of light just 
slightly to the right of where Julia sat. And as I 
watched, she sidled over to that spot, all the while 
continuing the rather inane conversation being hogged by 
the blonde, Patty. 

Finally, she reached the illuminated spot. With slow, 
but determined movement of her long-fingered hands, she 
raised her skirt until I had not only a peep show, but a 
spotlighted peep show!

Michelle came by, asking if I needed a refresher, or 
wanted to see the menu. I was surprised to see my glass 
was empty. I must have downed it while watching the 
"show," without noticing. I asked Michelle to refresh 
it. She was back in a flash. Well, I was a good 
customer, a twice a week repeater. It's also possible 
that 'Chell liked me. On slow nights she often sat with 
me and talked. Well, that might be another story. On 
this night, there were enough customers to keep her and 
Charlie busy serving up drinks and food.

Julia had pulled her skirt back down and brought her 
knees together as I talked with Michelle, But then, 
still chatting with her companions, pulled it back up 
and spread 'em.

What to do? I was incredibly drawn to this woman, and 
here she was exposing her most intimate body part to my 
view, even taking the trouble to put it in the 
limelight. All I could think to do was to buy her a 
drink, though that seemed wholly inadequate to the 
situation.

When Michelle came back with the refreshers for the 
three girls, I beckoned to her.

"What's up?" she asked.

"One on me for the redhead over there, OK?"

She shot me a look that confirmed my suspicion that I 
was more than just a good customer to her.

"And, let me peek at the specials for tonight, OK, 
Honey?"

I guess the 'Honey" or the matter-of-fact way I treated 
my gift to Julia appeased Michelle. She grinned at me 
and said, "We have steamers tonight."

Steamers have been a favorite food of mine since college 
days, when I first discovered them. I nodded my approval 
and we smiled at one another.

Michelle left and the Titian beauty parted her knees 
again. I played with my drink and watched the show. She 
actually slid forward on the booth and slouched, 
exposing more of her pink folds to my view. Based on 
what I could see of them at this distance and slightly 
obscured by the cushions of the booth, they were her 
best attribute. 

There was nothing short of perfect, there. Puffy, meaty 
outer lips, a deeper pink than the surrounding skin, not 
quite hid the frilly, trembling inner lips. They 
terminated at a prominent clitoris peeping from a long 
sheath. I tried to imagine eating that gorgeous thing.

She kept up her end of the somewhat one-sided 
conversation, smiling at her companions and sipping her 
brandy. Michelle came back with a refill for her, and 
though I couldn't hear 'Chell's words, I saw her gesture 
in my direction. Julia smiled and raised her glass to 
me; I raised mine back. Julia went back to her 
conversation with her coworkers, but when Michelle left, 
Julia's knees stayed together.

"Shit," I thought, "I must have made the wrong move. 
Damn!"

But then, when the loud blonde took her leave to hit the 
jane, and the brunette was looking another way, Julia 
mouthed at me, "show me yours."

I couldn't believe I had read her lips correctly, but I 
couldn't help grinning. Did she really think I was going 
to whip it out? Well, maybe she did!

At that moment, a group of men who had been sitting at 
the bar watching and commenting on the stock market 
ticker on the TV behind the bar got up and left with 
loud, "S'long, Charlie; bye Michelle," accompanied by 
the sound of scraping of barstools being pushed back. 
Cindy, the brunette turned to watch them go. Julia was 
smirking in my direction.

I took advantage of the distraction and opened my fly 
and took out my throbbing, erect cock. Now, I'm not 
small, but I'm not Johnny Holmes, either. My dick is 
just a bit more than average length, fairly thick, and 
straight as an arrow. Tonight it felt bigger than 
normal, inflated perhaps by the unbelievable view I had 
been given, and the absurd thing I was doing.

Julia grinned broadly and mouthed, "Beautiful."

I mouthed back, "You're beautiful."

Now, I am, in my own opinion at least, depressingly 
average. Average height, average brown hair, average 
everything. I have the kind of looks that would be great 
for a spy or something, nobody would remember me. 
Children don't run away screaming when they see me, but 
I'd never been accused of being beautiful before. But 
Julia had just called me "beautiful." Well, me or my 
cock? My cock was no more remarkable than the rest of 
me, I thought.

Michelle started around the bar with my bucket of 
steamers. Hastily, I put my cock away. Julia pouted and 
mouthed "Aw."

Patty returned from the jane and the noise level went 
back up a notch as she continued her office gossip 
monologue. I started eating steamers.

Now, eating steamed clams is an art just as much as 
preparing them is. If they are properly done, you need 
only to open the shell, scoop out the body, remove the 
outer skin from around the back and the breathing tube, 
dunk it in the melted butter and enjoy. If not properly 
done, you need to wash them in the broth to get the sand 
out. Tonight they were properly done, but out of habit I 
dunked them in the broth anyway.

Since Michelle was busy waiting tables and booths I 
figured that Pedro was in the kitchen. You see, on slow 
to medium nights Michelle doubled as waitress and chef, 
but on busy nights Max would contract Pedro to work the 
kitchen. Pedro was as good a cook as Michelle, and 
because he didn't have to work tables, could devote more 
attention to the food. So, paradoxically, the food was 
better on busy nights and on slow ones than on medium-
busy nights.

The steamers were great.

Before I finished my bucket of steamers, Patty ended her 
lengthy monologue and picked up the tab. She opened her 
purse and plunked down some bills on top of the tab they 
had been running, and with a loud, "Bye bye, girls," 
exited. The general noise level dropped considerably.

Cindy, the cute brunette, checked the tab and the money 
Patty had left, I guess to make sure it was covered, 
then got up and left as well. Julia remained, half the 
brandy left in the snifter. She smiled in my direction 
and resumed her show, lifting her skirt and spreading 
her thighs.

"Show me," she mouthed from across the room.

I looked left and right, saw no one looking, wiped my 
clammy hands, (yes, you eat them with fingers!) and 
dragged out my dick again. Julia smiled. She began to 
finger herself, gently dragging a fingertip over her 
conspicuous clitoris, and grinning while she slowly 
enjoyed the Remy I had bought her.

I left my cock out and resumed eating my steamers, 
checking that no one else could see. I couldn't believe 
this was happening!

Finally, her brandy was done. My steamers were finished, 
and I put my cock away. Michelle came to retrieve the 
bowls and I hurried to pay the fare, leaving a generous 
tip for Michelle and Charlie.

I got up to go, with a sidelong glance at Julia's place, 
but she had already gone. Disappointed, that she had 
left without me, without saying even one word to me, or 
giving me her phone number or something.

I hurried out the door and looked up and down the 
avenue, hoping to see her and catch up to her, but she 
was gone. Maybe she caught a cab. So I started off for 
the subway and home.

What sort of girl does such things and then disappears? 
Maybe I had daydreamed it? No, there was that lacy bit 
of cloth still in my pocket. I felt it to make sure it 
was really there.

Though I continued to be a frequent customer at Max's, I 
never saw her or either of her companions again. 

END

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Please keep this story, and all erotic stories out of
the hands of children. They should be outside playing
in the sunshine, not thinking about adult situations.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Kristen's collection - Directory 79