Talking over lunch, and a teasing toe over dessert

Rashida burst into laughter. "You do know how to flatter a woman, Hank," she said. "With a great ass? If I didn't know better, I'd say Jordan fed you that line."

Their lunch arrived in the arms of their waitress Sakura, the blonde part-time lifeguard with the unlikely name. Rashida had ordered the chilled shrimp remoulade and Hank had switched his order to the same. Rashida had a tall glass of sweet tea and Hank had a mug of chicory coffee au lait and a glass of water.

They talked about little things, about how Rashida had got into business banking, what a booze-filled boys' club it used to be, and still was, a little bit. With indirect language, they talked about their sexual experiences and interests. Rashida had gotten her sexual start by hooking up with married men, craving sex, flattered by their experience and gratitude, thrilled by the transgression and not wanting a man sharing her home, her money, her plans for her life. Her music man Felix had been a long-term sex buddy with no strings attached. "Stray tomcat," Rashida said with a laugh. She shook her head. "Then I had to go ahead and fall in love," she said. Hank laughed. Hank, in turn, offered some of his choicest stories, talking around them in safe-for-lunchtime language. Rashida raised her eyebrows and grinned as she worked out some of Hank's escapades. "You never...you did? Ha ha!" From time to time, Hank took Rashida's hand and rubbed his thumb over the top of her glossy, polished fingernails, squeezing her fingertips, touching and being touched. Rashida kept touching her toes to Hank's leg, keeping up their connection under the tablecloth. Rashida thanked Hank again for all the good things Veevee had brought her and Jordan. "Especially being my anal evangelist," she said. "Jordan can't thank Vee enough for that one."

Hank laughed out loud at that.

"I'm tickled that Veevee dresses up the same way to play secretary with Jordan every week," Rashida said. "Is it a fantasy thing for her?"

"Naughty secretary, yup," Hank said. "Vee has a lot of fantasies. Once in a while I hear about them or get to be part of making them real."

Other diners came and went, but nobody was seated right next to them. Rashida had picked a table with a little natural privacy, at least as far as their conversation went. And as far as her foot which had made it up past Hank's knee.

"Refill your drinks? Have you thought about dessert?" their waitress asked cheerfully.

Rashida stroked her toes along Hank's inner thigh, lightly covered by the summer-weight fabric of his trousers. "Dessert? I'd say I have," she said. "Split a plate of beignets?"

"I'd like that," Hank said. "Just a warm-up," Hank pointed to his coffee cup. "It's pretty strong, I can feel the get-up-and go already."

"Sure thing," Sakura said. She poured a splash into Hank's coffee cup from a glass carafe whose rim was the bright blue color of chicory flowers.

"For me too," Rashida said, lifting her glass of iced tea. The waitress gave her a refill. Rashida reached out her other hand, fingers extended to touch Sakura's hand as she poured, but Rashida thought better of it and pulled her hand back, stroking her fingertips across her own cheek instead. When the waitress left, Rashida extended her toes. Hank's cock was firm inside his trousers, more than half-erect, probably spilling out from Rashida's coral panties which Hank had exchanged for his own blue pouch-front briefs. "Definitely some get-up-and go there," Rashida said.

"Coffee's my secret potion for that," Hank said.

Ten minutes later, they were dabbing powdered sugar off each other's chins after feeding each other morsels from the gloriously sweet, crunchy-chewy mess of fried dough. After a little verbal sparring and some poking of Rashida's toe into Hank's lap, they agreed to split the check.

"Where to, Rashida?" Hank said. "Strolling the cool depths of the Aquarium? Another drive in your favorite turn-on machine? Or did you want to take this behind closed doors?"