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Natural Beauty Part 2 - The Date

"Ellen’s date with Bob does not go quite as planned..."

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After a few months of chatting online with Bob, Ellen had agreed to meet him for dinner, followed by a night out. Not having dated since her husband, Ken, passed away, she was rather nervous about it and had used just about every beauty tip in the book to get herself looking good...

****

Ellen caught herself admiring the tight little ass of the young Italian waiter, as she followed him to the bar area where Bob, her date, was waiting.

“Stop it Ellen!” she chastised, smiling, “He’s young enough to be your son!”

She heard her name being called and she looked over to see where the voice had come from and there he was, Bob, seated at the bar. She recognised him immediately from the images they had exchanged online and as she approached, he slipped from his stool and stood, arms outstretched, to greet her, “Ellen! It’s so good to finally meet you, in the flesh!”

She frowned slightly, thinking that he seemed to be a little shorter than he’d said. In fact, she had been fairly certain that he was going to be at the very least, a couple of inches taller than her, she liked that, a bigger man, but even if she’d not been wearing heels, she was sure he would not have matched her height. “No matter,” she thought, “I must have gotten it wrong and I guess it doesn’t really matter at the end of the day.”

He took her hand and pulled her into an embrace, which not only gave her a close view of his thinning pate, but a strong whiff of his overpowering after shave. She screwed up her nose a little as he took hold of her face between his palms and tried to plant a wet kiss on her mouth, turning her head to the side so it landed on her cheek instead. “Dammit!” she thought, “He’d better not have smudged my make up.”

“Come, come, Ellen, let’s get seated, shall we?”

He took her hand in his. Noticing that it felt a little clammy, she wondered if he was as nervous as she was?

He led her to the table and sat down, she stood awkwardly for a moment before the handsome Italian waiter pulled out her chair for her and offered to take her pashmina. She thanked him.

Bob ordered two glasses of the house wine, “Red okay for you, Ellen?”

“Erm, yes, I guess--”

“Good, good,” he rubbed his hands together and took the proffered menu from the waiter and opened it. “Now, I was thinking I could just order for you, if that’s okay? I mean, you got to choose what we’re doing this evening, so, my turn to do this?”

Ellen nodded. He leered at her then turned to the waiter and asked for the veal, for both of them.

Her face dropped, “Oh god, I don’t eat veal,” but she didn’t want to offend him, so simply smiled sweetly.

The waiter looked at her for a moment, raised and eyebrow and Ellen shrugged, almost imperceptibly. He gave a small smile and walked off.

Bob, by this time, was poring over his mobile phone. He looked up at her, “Sorry, I just have to respond to a text, I won’t be a moment.”

“It’s fine,” she smiled sweetly once more, taking in his appearance, noticing a small stain on his shirt and the way that his belly bulged over his trousers, making them look as though the button was holding on for dear life. Her mind wandered to her late husband, “Ken always kept himself in good shape.”

Bob laughed harshly, tapping at the screen of his phone, “I am sorry,” he apologised again, looking up briefly before bringing the phone back to his face, his tongue poking out of the side of his mouth. There were small beads of perspiration forming on his face.

Ellen could feel disappointment starting to creep in. This wasn’t exactly how she’d imagined the evening going. Already, she couldn’t see herself taking him back to her hotel room and she was beginning to regret her decision to book it. “Oh well,” she thought, “it’s not all that much more expensive than a taxi would have been. At least I don’t need to worry about getting home.”

She looked at Bob again, mouth open now as he poked at his screen. She stared for a moment, willing him to look up, but he didn’t, so instead she turned and began to look around the room at the other people in the restaurant. She had to admit that the food looked great as the waiters brought out starters, steaming Calzone, pasta dishes piled high with delicious-smelling sauces, pizzas and tasty-looking desserts. The crockery they removed from tables was mostly empty, she thought that was a good sign. She watched happy faces. There were three businessmen, looking over an iPad and having an intense conversation, as they sipped their liqueur coffees. Families chatted animatedly, a father wiped his young son’s mouth as he sucked long messy strands of spaghetti between fat little pursed lips. A couple, leaning in close, shared a tender moment as they clinked their glasses together.

“How am I ever going to pretend to enjoy the veal?” she pondered, stifling a shudder.

A sudden bustle caused her to snap her head around and she saw two grinning waiters carrying a birthday cake which had fizzing sparklers all over it. She glanced at Bob, to share the moment, but he remained oblivious as the rest of the room began to sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to an older gentleman wearing a shiny, pointed birthday hat and surrounded by his family and friends. She smiled at his excited expression, noticing the way that his elderly wife stroked his arm with a loving expression on her face.

Ellen had a sudden pang as she thought of her own late husband. She knew for a fact that he would never have left her to her own devices like this. She felt a little cross with Bob as she looked back at him again, still engrossed in his texting.

Maybe she was being too harsh? Perhaps, since she hadn’t really dated since her husband had died, she was setting herself unrealistic goals? Perhaps she was just behind the times, not up to date with the way things were done these days? Would anyone really be able to fill the large shoes her husband had once worn? Or maybe, well, maybe Bob was just rude.

A polite cough derailed her train of thought as the handsome young waiter set down her wine glass. “Madame,” he smiled at her before turning and setting Bob’s glass down.

“Thank you,” Bob replied brusquely, looking briefly at the waiter then dropping his phone back into his suit pocket and leaning over to Ellen to take her hand.

Her first instinct was to draw back, but she mentally steadied herself and smiled at him. “Is everything okay? All sorted now?”

“Yes,” he smiled, “I’m so sorry about that, just something I had to sort out.”

Ellen waited a moment, for an explanation, but when it never came, she said, “The food looks wonderful here.”

“Yes, yes,” he dismissed, “Now tell me, where will the rest of the evening take us?” As he spoke, she felt his shoe brush against hers, sliding up her ankle. Surprised, she pulled back her leg.

“You want to know now?” She asked, hoping that his heel hadn’t pulled a ladder in her tights.

Bob leered, nodding, “Oh yes, I’ve been thinking about this all week. A whole evening together! So, tell me, what do you have planned for me?”

Elen shifted uncomfortably in her seat, “Well, I thought that since we have such a good laugh when we chat, that something really fun was in order?”

“Oh yes?” he leaned closer, rubbing her hand with his fingers, “I like the sound of fun. Tell me more...”

“Well, I’ve booked us front row tickets to the circus!” she burst out, looking at him almost defiantly, willing him to find fault with her plans.

His intense expression changed to surprise, “The circus? You mean with like, clowns and shit? Are you serious?”

“Well, yes,” she smiled nervously, “I’ve always wanted to go to the circus but never have.”

Just then, the waiter reappeared with a large plate balanced on each hand.

“Excuse me, madame,” he winked at her and beamed, setting down a delicious looking plate before her, announcing, “the chicken!” He turned to Bob, “And the veal for sir, buon appetite!”

Ellen could barely disguise her relief and her mouth began to water as she lifted her cutlery.

“Wait a minute! Ellen, stop!” Bob barked, “I ordered the veal for both of us! Now, take that back and bring what I actually ordered!”

The waiter capitulated, leaning forward to remove the plate, but Ellen put out her hands and stopped him, “No! Really, it’s fine. I’d actually prefer the chicken.” She was pretty certain that it hadn’t been a mistake at all, that he’d seen her expression when Bob had seen fit to simply order for her.

The waiter apologised and left. Bob was muttering under his breath about bloody foreigners not understanding English as he began to cut up his meat. With a mouthful of veal and green beans, he looked up, “You know, Ellen, You look absolutely stunning. I mean, really fucking sexy. I’ve been so looking forward to this night.” He lifted a dripping forkful to his mouth, still talking as he stuffed in more food.

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“I’ve been thinking that we could book a hotel you know?” his lascivious smile was greased with the juice from his veal.

“Oh,” Ellen felt suddenly queasy and began to wonder how she would ever make it through this night, trying to think of excuses that she could give, in order to escape sooner, “I don’t know about that, Bob. I mean, we hardly know each other.”

“I can assure you,’ he raised his fork and waved it, dropping a mange tout onto the white tablecloth, “I feel like I know you very well indeed and by the end of tonight... Hmm?” He raised an eyebrow and winked, before stuffing yet more food into his mouth.

The rest of the meal was spent with Ellen nodding politely and trying to fend off Bob’s clumsy advances, that was when he wasn’t focusing his attention on his phone. God, that’s so rude , she found herself feeling rather more than a little put out and she wondered if she might nip to the bathroom and ask Rowan, her daughter, to call her with an ‘emergency’ which would call her suddenly away.

“I’m just going to the ladies,” she said, standing and pushing her dessert away.

The coffee was ordered and now, if only she could get Rowan to call her, she could probably go on to the circus alone, or even back to her hotel room. Either of those seemed like a much better prospect than a night with Bob at this point. How could she have misjudged him so completely? He had seemed so perfect when they had chatted on the phone and then it suddenly began to dawn on her that he was one of those guys who spent most of his time using technology to better himself, projecting what he wanted people to see him as, not what he was actually like. She sighed and decided that she was not going to judge herself too harshly for this. After all, she had ‘seen’ exactly what he had projected, what she had wanted. Did she come across as desperate? “Oh well, you live and learn,” she sighed as she pushed open the door to the Ladies’. “What a waste of all that effort, getting myself looking so nice.”

Suddenly a hand grabbed her shoulder and pulled her back, pushing her against the coats which were hanging in the hallway. She lost her balance and fell against the jackets. Bob’s wet mouth met hers as he pressed his body against her, hands everywhere.

“Oh Ellen!” he moaned as his tongue pushed into her mouth and his hands found the hem of her dress. She could taste his food and felt her dinner rise as she pushed him back, spluttering.

“Bob!” she gasped, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“Oh Ellen!” he moaned, thrusting himself against her, she could feel a small bulge as his crotch made contact with hers. “You know you want this as much as I do! Let’s get out of here, ditch the circus and book a hotel room. What do you say? Just you, me and a huge bed. I want to fuck you, I want to put my cock inside you! You’re so fucking hot, Ellen, I want you, now!” he flexed his hips and his chubby poked at her groin.

It appeared that she wasn’t the only one who had misjudged the situation. How the fuck was she going to get out of this mess?

“Look Bob,” she took a deep breath, figuring that complete honesty was probably the best course of action, “I liked talking to you and I thought we hit it off, but now that we’ve met, well, I’m sorry, but I’m just not so sure?”

She pushed him back and he looked at her. She could see disappointment beginning to darken his features and she opened her mouth to apologise, but he cut her off.

“What? Are you fucking kidding me?” he spat, “You wanted me, you fucking wanted me!” His face was contorted with rage now, cheeks red and a small string of drool connected his quivering bottom lip to his shiny chin. He looked like he might burst into tears at any moment.

Ellen was stunned. She looked around nervously, hoping they weren’t causing a big fuss and reached out, to place a calming hand on his shoulder, but he smacked it away.

“You bitch! You fucking bitch!” he was yelling now, “You’re just like all the rest of them, my wife, the women I work with, my mother! All those bitches, cock teasing CUNTS!”

The words he had said began to sink in. “Wait a minute? You’re MARRIED?” She felt as though she had been slapped. “You told me you were single, Bob, divorced you said! You liar! You fucking liar!”

She pulled back to slap his face, incandescent with rage but hands grabbed Bob’s shoulders then and pulled him back. He kept shouting as the waiters roughly took him outside through the fire door. Ellen could hear raised voices and then a smack and all went quiet. She stood for a moment and realised she still needed to pee. She went into the bathroom and collapsed onto a toilet in an empty stall and she began to cry and sob. She blew her nose loudly then flushed. As she stood at the sink washing her hands, she gazed at her reflection. She dabbed at her eyes with a tissue and reapplied her lip gloss. “I look okay,” she thought, “No! I look better than just okay. I look hot!”

There was a knock at the door and the handsome young Italian waiter peeked his head around the door.

He grinned when he saw Ellen. “Are you okay, miss?” genuine concern crossed his face. “Your friend, he has, erm, left. Don’t worry, he paid for the meal, left you money for a cab and a generous tip too, for the staff.” He winked then and Ellen felt her lip tremble and tears prick her eyes.

“Hey, hey, miss, it’s okay,” the young man came into the bathroom and pulled her into his arms, “Shh shh, it’s okay, he’s gone.”

She allowed him to hold her for a moment and she rested her head against his chest, inhaling his manly scent and the hint of expensive cologne. Her breathing had just about returned to normal but her face was still flushed, angry and embarrassed.

His fingers curled under her chin as he lifted her face to his and kissed her cheek. “You are a very beautiful woman,” he said, wiping away a tear with his thumb. He leaned down and kissed her mouth, pulling her close to his hard, young body.

It felt good, like relief, and when he opened his lips against hers, she felt the tip of his tongue press against them and let out an involuntary sigh. She was certain there was a bulge where his crotch pressed against her and suddenly all of the awkwardness with Bob was temporarily forgotten. Her arms slipped up his back and over his shirt, his body felt taut, warm... Young.

“What’s your name?” Ellen asked him, pulling her head back and looking at the young man’s face. He was handsome, with dark eyes, hair, almost black, and a complexion that would have made a supermodel weep.

He smiled, revealing perfect white teeth as he stroked a stray hair away from her face. “Alfredo, my name is Alfredo, and yours?”

“My name is Ellen,” she smiled. “How old are you, Alfredo?”

He stood a little straighter, “I’ll be twenty eight in two weeks.”

He was exactly half her age.

Ellen took hold of his muscular arms and stepped back. “Alfredo, I am really very grateful that you and your colleagues stepped in when you did and sorted things out with my, erm, friend, Bob--”

“We persuaded him to pay for your meal!” he beamed, winking, “And he left us a huge tip too!”

“Yes, yes, you said,” she waved her hand dismissively, “and thank you so much for cheering me up when I was upset. That means a lot to me.”

Impossibly, Alfredo seemed to straighten even taller, smiling proudly, as she slid her hands down his arms and took his soft hands in hers.

“I’m going to leave now,” she said quietly.

The young man opened his mouth, as if to interject, but she silenced him by placing a finger on his perfect lips, “Alfredo. When it comes, I hope that you have a wonderful birthday with your friends.”

“I finish soon, don’t you want to wait for me?” there was a hurt in his expression which made him look even younger.

“No.” She stood up on her tiptoes and kissed him quickly on the cheek, “Thank you again, Alfredo. Goodbye.”

Smiling, Ellen exited the bathroom and walked down the hallway, she shuddered as she plucked her pashmina from its hook, remembering Bob’s outburst. She hoped that he really had gone, that he wasn’t hanging around outside and relief washed through her when she realised that she had never given him her address. As she walked through the restaurant towards the exit, a few of the staff waved or nodded, someone called out a ‘thank you’, wished her a safe trip and invited her to come back soon. She turned and nodded her own acknowledgment and saw Alfredo. He gave her a rueful smile, waved and blew her a kiss.

She inhaled deeply as she stepped outside onto the street, saw a cab with its illuminated ‘for hire’ light and began to walk towards it. Images of Bob’s face, contorted with anger flashed through her mind until they were replaced by Alfredo’s concerned handsome features.

“Twenty eight,” she whispered, “He was only twenty eight! I could totally have pulled him! Wait ‘til I tell Rowan about this, that her mother is a fucking 56 year-old cougar!” She could barely suppress her laughter as she got into the cab.

“Where to, miss?”

“The circus!” she giggled. “Take me to Marco’s Circus please, my good man!”

The driver grinned, “The circus it is!” shaking his head as they pulled away from the kerb.

***

Thank you so much for reading this story. I realise it's a little lacking in actual sex, but do bear with me for the final part which will be published shortly!
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Written by Mazza
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