Dessert Read Online Free Page B

bliss, an agony of ecstasy.
    “Please,” I gasped. “I can’t…” It was too much. Never before had I been given a blowjob by a stranger, never before had oral sex made my entire body buckle or my cock become so sensitive before, during and after climax.
    As if sensing my desperation, she slowly lifted her head. Her withdrawing lips made my body jerk then sag. She caught my spent dick in her hand, kissed it tenderly, as if soothing it, paying extra attention to the tip and my swollen slit.
    I wanted to pull her up. Hold her tiny, naked body close to mine. Thank her for the wonderful thing she had just done and make her come with the same intensity. But I didn’t, I just sat there gasping for breath and hoping that at the height of my climax I hadn’t shouted out and disturbed other patrons of The Geisha Plate.
    Finally, she broke away and stood.
    Her body was lithe and agile in the small space, mine big and cumbersome, I was hot and panting for breath.
    Heart hammering, I looked at her face. Her lipstick, so perfect and precise before, was hopelessly smudged, as was her chalky makeup, which now revealed the tan skin of her face. Her eyes shone. Was it approval of me or the satisfaction of a job well done?
    I couldn’t be sure.
    My mushed brain kicked back into gear. Hastily I tucked my softening cock away, shifting on the cushions and muttering when my knee knocked the table and my zipper proved fiddly.
    She licked her lips and watched my movements and damn if my dick didn’t twitch with renewed arousal at the sight of her soft body and stiff nipples.
    “I will send you in green tea,” she said quietly, “for you to enjoy before your journey home.”
    Green tea?
    24
    Dessert
    My mind whirred. We had just shared an intimate experience and I was being seen off with green-fucking-tea?
    “But, I—what is your name?” I asked.
    She clasped her hands near her navel and gave a small bow. “Good night, Mr.
    Alan.”
    “But, I…Please…”
    She slipped between the curtains in a swift, silent movement. If it hadn’t been for the dampness in my pants and the sated weight in my groin, I could have almost believed that my dessert had been a delicious dream.
    The trouble was dessert felt more like a starter. The start of something I really wanted to finish with my beautiful Geisha girl. Not that I was under any illusion she would fall into my bed and let me explore all the ways I could make her come with my tongue. But I at least wanted to know her name, and believe it or not, I also wanted to see her with clothes on. Get to know her a little. Such swift, anonymous sex, fantastic as it had been, was not really my style. I wanted to feel a female body pressed against mine all night. Breathe in the sweet scent of skin and hair, be warmed by fragile limbs and gentle curves.
    After sipping half of the vile green tea, I exited the restaurant. The girl on the front desk bowed solemnly. If she knew what I’d just experienced she gave no hint of it.
    I stepped outside. The night air was warm and the street still busy with late-night pub goers, taxis and buses.
    The thought of home didn’t appeal. The thought of hanging around for my unusual dinner companion did.
    I shoved my hands in my pockets and wandered down the alley between the restaurant and the next building—what looked to be an electrical shop, closed, with metal grates over the windows.
    25
    Lily Harlem
    The alley smelled of rancid food—the heat of the day had obviously taken its toll on the long row of wheelie bins. There were several anonymous doors. No windows, letterboxes or handles, just locks. I figured some of them went into The Geisha Plate.
    My foot slid on something slimy. I didn’t lose my balance but it was enough to create a ball of disgust in my stomach. I decided not to head farther into the blackness and wandered back to the entrance of the alley. I leaned my shoulders against the gritty wall and kept just in the shadows. I would wait for her