FOOD CRITIC (c) Carrie Kingsley "Good evening Sir, my name is Sarah and I'll be your waitress this evening; are you ready to order?" She sounded almost as sexy as she looked, the introductions occurring as I perused the menu of the new restaurant I was here to review. Leaning over she filled my wine glass and gave me a prime view of her very ample honey-skinned bosom; she smelled of vanilla and exotic spices. I tried not to make it obvious but I breathed her in; I was enchanted. I had been in the food critic business for more than a decade now, each restaurant I reviewed in my column was instantly the hot new place to be that week. Consequently I was a very popular man, and certainly never went hungry. I always did my reviews alone though; I find sitting in a restaurant alone gives you more of an opportunity to soak in the true atmosphere of the place, there's no distractions from mundane conversation. I had never married and probably never would. Having been named Bachelor of the Year three times in the last seven years, I was not short of female attention, though I preferred to keep to myself most of the time. I was what a lot of women described as broodingly handsome, something between James Dean and Pierce Brosnan; probably a bit of a fuddy duddy when it came down to it though. So far I liked the look of this new restaurant, it had it's grand opening just shy of two weeks ago, and I had waited in my usual fashion until the hype had died down about it before making my review. Hype did nobody any favours, and merely muddied the waters. It had a cool urban interior with rich chocolate brown walls, a stainless steel bar, and cream and beige napkins sat on dark chunky wood tables. People sat in comfortable white-covered tub chairs. Smooth R&B music played on the stereo as I gave my sexy waitress my order, and as I watched her perky arse wiggle its way back to the kitchen while I sipped my shiraz, I couldn't help my mind from drifting into a quiet reverie... Her lips were full and pouty as she leaned over me, that luscious scent filling my nostrils. Closer she came, her blonde hair tickling my face until finally our lips touched; she tasted fruity, with top-notes of berries and apricots. Powerful, and a little more forceful in her kiss than I usually liked, she was also velvety soft with a clean bouquet exuding freshness. The colour of her lipstick was intense and youthful, the colour of ripe blackberries in the sun, and I wondered what those beautiful lips would feel like around - "Your entrée sir," the object of my desire placed a plate in front of me, bending over a little more than absolutely necessary and allowing me yet another generous glance at her décolletage and beyond. Her smile didn't hide very well the fact she knew what effect this usually had, and I thought to thank her for my course when her hand brushed my shoulder and the words escaped me as an electric shock surprised us both. "Yeowch! I am terrible sorry sir! These darn shoes on this carpet, I really should get some new ones," Sarah rubbed my shoulder as she spoke, the contact sending a warm glow down to the pit of my stomach. I shifted my napkin in my lap, hoping to cover the ensuing erection as she refilled my wine glass, and left smiling. I looked down at the entrée in front of me; two big field mushrooms stuffed with hot Mexican salsa. As I ate, I saw Sarah serving other patrons with not half the attention she had given me. She obviously knew I was here to review the place and was being extra diligent, but really, I couldn't help myself... Our lips parted and I started to unbutton her stiff white shirt. Sarah stopped me before I got very far though and she instead started kissing my neck. She couldn't stop me from looking, however, and as she worked her way up to my earlobe, the two perfect mounds were practically in my face. She was wearing a beige-coloured bra that seemed to be a size too small, as she appeared positively stuffed into it, her breasts pouring over the top. My hands brushed over them lightly while she sent shivers down my spine, my lobe having found its way between her lips. It was hard to concentrate with her tongue in my ear, but I managed to pull down her bra far enough that I could see her pink rounded nipples jutting out at me. I wrapped my lips around one of them; they tasted the same way she smelled, spicy and warm and comforting. She was making me so hot with her gliding tongue, as I pulled on her nipple with my teeth I felt a tiny droplet of sweat run down my face, my erection now threatening to burst out of my pants - "Would you like a jug of water, sir, I understand the mushrooms are very spicy," Sarah the hot waitress, not the Sarah of my dreams, smiled warmly, and I adjusted the napkin yet again in my lap for fear of her noticing the bulge. I thanked her, accepting the offer, as my throat was painfully dry and there was indeed a few drops of sweat forming on my forehead. I was almost embarrassed at my thoughts as she poured the sweet cool water into a glass, and took my empty entrée plate back to the kitchen. Halfway there, the fork fell from the plate and she bent over to pick it up, her arse facing me through the tight black skirt she wore that fell to her knees. I could see the outline wonderfully, she was clearly wearing no underwear, and the small split up the back allowed me a peek at her smooth caramel-coloured thigh. Realising I was staring, I looked away, my face flushing hot and I downed the glass of water in front of me, pouring another. I had composed myself reasonably enough by the time my main course arrived, and I tried to concentrate more thoroughly on the job at hand. I had ordered the steak, and on my plate was a big juicy T-bone, smothered in a dark creamy pepper sauce, with sides of long halved roasted carrots and marinated artichoke hearts. It seemed to taste okay, but honestly, my mind wasn't on the food with Sarah sashaying between the tables in front of me, her eyes sneaking my way now and then; to check on my progress, I'm sure. The walk, so alluring with her hips swaying on each step, obviously from the heels she wore and not for my benefit, but still... Tutting and wagging a finger at me, Sarah pulled her bare tits away from my reach. Unzipping my pants, she knelt between my legs and freed my huge boner, which was very hard by now. Teasing me, she started with the tip of her tongue at the base, then licked long and hard up the length of my cock, before putting it between her sweet wet lips. I leaned my head back on the chair as I fucked her hot mouth, her tongue driving circles around the tip of my cock as it moved against her berry coloured lips. Her long fingernails tickled my balls as she sucked me, and she moaned a little as she pulled my cock further into her mouth; her brown eyes looked up at me, eating me up in her stare and tugging at my heart. I felt near coming and grabbed the back of her head, pushing her mouth as far down my cock as she would let me, before my searing white cum spurted down her throat. She swallowed every drop, and then licked my cock clean before looking up at me as if to say - "Was the steak to your liking, sir?" Sarah with the honey-flavoured voice brought me back to reality. "Yes it was just as I like it, medium-rare," I tried not to linger my eyes too long at her tits, where during the course of the night she had undone the top two buttons of her shirt. It was a warm night, so she could not be blamed; it was not as if she were trying to seduce me at the table or anything. Still, when Sarah brought out the dessert menu, our fingers touched as she passed it to me, and she appeared to hold on to it longer than necessary as she told me the chef's recommendations. She went back to the kitchen with my order of the dark chocolate mousse, and I took my leave by way of a quick trip to the men's room. I splashed a little cold water on my face, and had to count backwards from thirty before I could pee. It would have been overtly out of line to ask for the waitress's number at the restaurant I was reviewing, but maybe I could come back another time, or wait until her shift was over. I stopped my crazy considerations and headed back to my table, where dessert sat waiting for me. The mousse was smooth and rich and creamy, sitting in an edible chocolate cup, surrounded by a rough garnish of strawberry sauce. Dessert was my favourite part of any meal, the time when hunger was no longer an issue, the dish itself a mere indulgence. I brought the spoon to my lips, and looked out the window into the night... Sated and slightly weary, I lifted Sarah onto the table that sat in front of me and pulled up her skirt. She attempted to stop me, but as I ran my hands over her hard nipples and kissed the inside of her thigh, she relented; leaning back, she closed her eyes as I spread her legs before me. Licking her smooth wet pussy, she tasted like caramel and musky peppermint, her little hard clit like a cherry as I sucked it slowly. My tongue did small figure eights around it, and then I buried it into the depths of her, dark and creamy. Sarah's moans got louder when I placed my thumb on her clit as I tongue-fucked her, her hips riding the table, legs in the air over my shoulders. With a huge shudder she groaned and then came, her juices wetting the table beneath her, cutlery falling to the floor beside her - "Coffee or tea, sir?" I looked away from the window to the beauty at my side, and shook my head. One more moment in this place and I would be utterly ropable. "No, thank you kindly," I answered her, and motioned for the check to be brought. As I stood at the front bar and paid for my meal, I noticed the waitress disappearing through the kitchen door, but not before giving me one last smoldering look. I turned around and saw a much younger man in the window, and at last decided I was being ridiculous; this apparent seduction was all in my imagination, and so I went home to write my review. "Tantalising dishes for all the senses, the wine flowed, the T-bone steak was juicy, and the chocolate mousse rich and tasty. This is one critic who will be visiting again." * * * "So did it work, love?" the chef of the hot new restaurant greeted his wife, Sarah, who stood in the corner of the filthy kitchen doing her top shirt buttons up. "Do you think we'll get a good review?" He stood in front of a greasy counter-top, and wiped his nose with the back of his hand before resuming his cooking. "I had him panting like a puppy," Sarah laughed, and their restaurant prospered well after the review appeared in the paper. The critic, to this day, often walks past the cool urban restaurant to see the pretty waitress that works there, but she never appeared to him again. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- If you are interested in reading more, please contact carefulapathy@hotmail.com Disclaimer: All characters are fictional and any similarity to any person real or fictional is purely coincidental.