The dinner

“Good evening, detective,” he said in his usual charming tone, “I’m so glad that you accepted my invitation.”

“How could I not? After all, the judge decided that I should go.”

“Touché. While we’re at that… congratulations for your success in catching the murderer, detective. I’ve heard it was a rather high-profile case.”

“First of all, let’s abandon the titles, shall we? My name’s Angelica.”

“Michael.”

I extended my palm initially intending to shake hands, but I changed my mind and offered it to him with its back upwards. Michael grabbed it gently, raised to his mouth and mimicked a kiss.

“It’s a pleasure to have you here, Angelica.”

“It’s a pleasure to be here, Michael,” I matched his courtesy, but spoiled it by adding, “there’s one more thing I want to make clear right away, but not necessarily by the door.”

“Of course, let’s go inside.”

Michael offered me his arm in a courteous gesture, I accepted it and we walked inside .The evening was busy and the place was almost full, everyone watched us when we crossed the room. Of course we had the best table and a waiter just for ourselves.

We sat down at our table, ordered our meals and wine, then we could finally talk comfortably.

“As for the second issue I mentioned earlier…” I said.

“Yes?”

“You can now quit the game with the ‘successful investigation’, Michael. We both know what had happened and what was your role. I should be angry at you, but I’m not. I value intelligence and I like a good game. More importantly I can admit when I’ve been outwitted. Congratulations, you’ve won. That’s one of the reasons I’m here.”

“I thought the reason was you enjoyed my company,” he replied with a charming smile.

“I said that I value intelligence, didn’t I?”

“Thank you for the compliment. I believe that intelligence is even more attractive when paired with beaty,” he lifted a glass of wine and gestured towards me.

“Thank you,” I replied and joined him for what seemed like a toast.

“To the beautiful and intelligent police officers that keep us safe,” he said.

“And to the law-abiding citizens that willingly cooperate,” I added with a wink.

Being straightforward about our earlier ‘game’ helped the conversation during the meal; it became open, smooth and natural. I was good at talking to people in general, not just at interrogating them, and Michael had already proven that he could maintain a conversation; he could do that even better when he did not have to avoid the most obvious topic. Although we both avoided one subject - the fingering and the blowjob; it hung in the air, but the evening did not develop to that stage yet.

The meal was delicious, I did not fail to notice that we both ordered dishes that included a generous amount of natural aphrodisiacs. The wine was equally tasty and fortunately not as strong as the drinks on the memorable day. At one point Michael asked:

“Would you like to dance, Angelica?”

“A wonderful idea!” I replied enthusiastically, “a perfect way to burn the calories we just ate.”

“I know of an even better way,” he added with an innocent smile.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I replied with a poker face.

We got up from the table and walked towards the dance floor; once again Michael offered me his arm and I accepted it. This time the other guests observed us too; I could not blame them, we made quite a sight. The dance floor was located in a separate hall, so the guests could eat in peace; it was busy, but not crowded. The music was nice too, not the kind of obnoxious noise you might hear in a club, but actual ballroom dance music; just right for a man and a woman to enjoy this wonderful activity. The pace was moderate, quick enough to flash my legs through the slit in the dress, but also slow enough to cling to the partner. Michael was a good dancer, as was to be expected, whenever he did something he made sure that his performance would be top notch. He led decisively as well, but was not rigid in the least; dancing with him was pure pleasure. We attracted a lot of attention from the other people, which was understandable. Without fake modesty I can claim that we were both beautiful and skillful enough at dancing. But we did that first and foremost for our own pleasure, the small spectacle was just a bi-product. I was not sure how much time we spent on the dance floor, probably more than people usually do, but I was not tired. Both Michael and I were fit and had impressive stamina, but we both also wanted another drink and the bottle of wine still awaited us.

The final dance was faster and we ended it with a flashy figure. I raised my leg high, bent at the knee, along Michael’s side. He first grabbed my thigh, then slid his palm along my bare skin to my ankle. He grabbed it, stepped back and continued to raise my leg. I sensed his intentions and straightened my knee; my ankle ended up high on Michael’s shoulder. The other guests erupted with a loud cheer, some simply admired my athleticism, while others might have enjoyed the sight of my panties. I put my leg back onto the floor and curtsied for the ‘audience’, Michael bowed along my side.

“You’re a superb dancer, Angelica,” Michael complimented me as I grabbed his arm before heading back to our table.

“Thank you, so are you. I find it hard to believe that there might be a better way to burn calories.”

“I could show you and dispel your doubts.”

“I’m sure you could,” I couldn’t hide a smile when I made that reply.

We finished the bottle of wine and continued our pleasant conversation. The lapdance and blowjob were still not mentioned, but I knew that at one point The Question would be asked.

“What would you say to a drink in a more private place?”

Michael looked innocent, but we both knew what he was suggesting. I had already made that decision earlier and the entire evening only confirmed it, but it was always proper for a lady to look hesitant, so I did not reply instantly. I toyed with the empty wine glass for a moment, as if considering the pros and cons. Michael patiently remained silent until I finally answered:

“All right. But just a small one, I don’t want to get blasted.”

“I’ll be sure not to overdo it with the ****,” the host replied, pretending that we were indeed talking about a drink.