Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Fa/Fa, Consensual, Heterosexual, TransGender, Cheating, DomSub, Interracial, .
Desc: Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Three women, three affairs, three lives.
The smartly dressed, middle aged, black woman entered the upscale restaurant, but instead of approaching the hostess, stood studying the surroundings, her eyes casting about from lobby to booths to tables.
"May I be of assistance?" smiled the lovely girl behind the reservation desk. "Would you like a table?"
"Yes, but a booth please," replied the woman stepping forward.
"For one or will others be joining you?" asked the twenty-two year old.
Their eyes met for a brief instant and each became instantly aware of what they shared.
"Yes ma'am. Right this way," smiled the girl picking up a menu and moving toward a nearby booth. The woman eyed the girl's figure and her swaying hips as she followed. She decided the girl was a bit thin, but otherwise rather attractive.
"One in the back, if you please," said the woman.
"Of course," smiled the girl and changed direction, moving toward a distant corner. "Will this be all right?" she asked as she laid the menu on a corner booth.
"Yes, this will do nicely."
"Cissie will be your waitress and she'll be with you momentarily."
"Thank you. Uh ... young lady?"
"Yes, ma'am? -- I'm Rachel by the way."
"Well do me a favor Rachel. Stop calling me ma'am. My name is Vivian."
Once again their gazes met and the girl smiled, then looked away when Vivian eyed her with a fetching smile.
"When was the name changed?" asked the woman pointing to the menu with the name "Antonio's" sprawled in large letters across the top.
"Gee, I'm sorry I don't know. I've only been working here a little over a year. I'll be glad to ask."
"Thank you. You have a lovely smile, dear."
The hostess, obviously flustered, smiled in embarrassment, nodded and quickly made an exit.
Vivian, although at fifty-two not the beauty she had once been was nevertheless quite striking. Her ebony eyes and hair of medium length and quite stylish, were complements to her luscious full lips and high cheekbones which would have given her an almost Asian appearance if it were not for her still flawless skin of milk chocolate. Over the years she had acquired a pound or two, but she still turned heads with a figure that most women would be only too glad to have. She was an active woman who watched her diet and it showed.
Her waitress appeared.
"I'll have the caesar salad with a bottle of red Chianti Classico."
"Yes, ma'am. However, if you wish, we have a fine Trebbiano which..."
"No, it must be Chianti -- and I want it in a basket bottle."
Puzzled, the waitress simply noted the order and left.
Vivian continued to study the decor and the assemblage of patrons until the hostess returned with the manager.
"This is Mister Edwards. He's been here a lot longer than I have. Perhaps he can answer your questions."
"Thank you, dear."
The slightly balding man in the ill fitting suit smiled. "You were asking when the name was changed. We used to be..."
"Salina's," Vivian finished it for him. "Yes, I know."
"The restaurant was sold about nine years ago and the name was changed. That was when there was extensive remodeling done, both inside and outside."
"I used to come here with friends, but that has been many years ago," she said.
"I'm afraid I was hired right after the restaurant changed names, but the new owner told me that there has been a restaurant in this location for over eighty years."
"Well," laughed Vivian, "I don't go back quite that far."
"No ma'am, of course. I wish there were someone who worked here before the restaurant was sold, but I'm afraid I've been here longer than any of the other employees."
The woman sighed sadly. "Yes, well, it has been a long time. Thank you."
"You're welcome, ma'am," he said and disappeared into the kitchen.
"I'm sorry," said the attractive young hostess. "It obviously means a lot to you."
Vivian looked up at the pretty young woman.
"Yes, it does. You see some friends of mine and I used to come here -- often, and we once made a pact that when there was only one of us left that person would return and drink a toast to our friendship."
"So that's why the Chianti was so important?"
"Yes. It's the wine we used to drink when we ate here."
"But you have no one to drink the toast with."
"I have you -- if you'll join me."
"I ... I'm working right now, but my shift ends soon. I could ... join you then."
"I'd like that -- very much."
"Then I'll see you in a few minutes," smiled Rachel who retreated to the lobby to take care of some diners who had just arrived.
The salad and wine arrived and Vivian picked at her dinner waiting for her young companion. At last Rachel's shift ended and she rejoined the older woman, sitting across the booth from Vivian.
"Let's share a glass of wine, shall we?"
"Of course," answered Rachel motioning for the waitress to bring another wine glass.
Pouring the wine, the older woman's face held a melancholy that touched her young companion.
"Your friends must have been very special."
"Yes, they were. We were the best of friends. We went through a lot together."
"Were you friends in school or college?"
"No, we met at a charity auction and just seemed to hit it off right away. We began getting together for lunch once a week here at Salina's. We'd always have salad and a red Chianti. That was Bonnie's idea. She was the youngest and had this romantic notion about wine bottled in a basket wrap. So every week, here the three of us would sit sharing a bottle of wine and catching up on small talk and what was going on in our lives."
"And they're both gone now?" asked Rachel quietly.
"Yes, Bonnie's been gone for several years and..." Vivian took a newspaper clipping form her purse and slid it cross the table to Rachel who saw it was an obituary notice.
Laura Weston, 63 of 1645 Alcadia Drive Died Monday. She is survived by a former husband Donald Weston and two children Donna Windsor of St. Paul Minnesota and Paul Weston of Augusta, Maine. Visitation 5:00-9:00 Tomorrow. Services Friday at 2:00 pm. Honeycutt Funeral Home caring for arrangements.
The clipping was dated a week previously.
"So you've come back to..."
"To keep a promise. We all swore that if we were the last, we would return here and drink a toast to the Infidelity Club."
"To the what?"
"The Infidelity Club." Vivian asked. "Got anywhere to go?"
"Not at the moment. I'm sort of in between girlfri ... uh, roommates right now."
"Then have another glass of wine. I've got a story to tell."
"The Infidelity Club, eh? Sounds like this may be an interesting story."
"Where do I start?" muttered Vivian.