“That sounds great. Do you have anywhere particr in mind?” I desperately hope he doesn’t say McDonald’s.


    “Well, there’s a really nice Italian restaurant just down the street,” he says, “I’ve only been there twice, but it was great both times”


    “Perfect, I love Italian”


    We leave the bar and walk out to the near deserted street. It seems all the shops have closed for the night, and even thest stragglers of the downtownmuters have managed to escape the usual bustle.


    Alex continues talking as we slowly walk toward the restaurant. I enjoy the long- missed attention he gives me. I wonder if he’d mind if I held his hand? I’d like to.


    The restaurant is impressive.


    The decor has the appeal of an Italian garden restaurant, with small intimate tables isted from each other by wonderful greenery sprouting from the surrounding nters.


    The soft ethnic music in the background adds just a perfect ambiance for an intimate dinner with a specialpanion. I wonder if I can chalk this up as a date?


    We’re escorted to a table set off into a far corner, very secluded and deliciously intimate. The waiter has chosen well, and I’ll reward him with a nice tip in response to his foresight.


    The table is covered with a delightful checkered tablecloth; like you’d see in a small family kitchen, and the wooden high backed chairs arefortably padded with matching fabric. It feels homey.


    Alex actually holds my chair for me as we arrive at the table. I’m a little stunned by the gesture. No man has shown such chivalry and manners toward me since forever, and I thank him for being such a gentleman. He beams at mypliment.


    Dinner is a splendid blend of sensational food, and the most stirring conversation I’ve had in ages. We both have thesagna, and it’s spiced to perfection. I watch Alex as we eat.


    The impable manners, the entrancing looks, and the way he maniptes his fork with those wondrous fingers. He’s so damn handsome.


    I see his tongue reach for a strand of cheese dangling from his fork. I can’t help but let my mind wander and drift in visions of where I’d love that swirling tongue to touch me. I avert my eyes as a ripple of desire tingles from head to toe. I can feel my nipples tighten. It’s been quite a time since a man’s had that effect on me, and I savor the sudden urges.


    As we finish thest morsels of thesagna, the conversation turns more intimate. Alex is truly a gentle and sharing soul who has no reservations whatsoever about pouring out his feelings to me. I love a man who can express himself, and especially as eloquently as Alex.


    He’s not the least stingy or shy with thepliments either. As the empty dishes are removed from the table, I’m feeling wonderful.


    We both pass on the desert menu as we enjoy an after dinner coffee, sharing thest of the garlic bread. Our conversation is now so intimately easy and candid that I’m in a state of total rxation. Alex has meughing, and often.


    Ipletely abandoned my earlier foul mood.


    My hand rests beside my cup as I tell Alex a few snippets of my current situation. That’s when his hands reach for mine, and he wraps my hand in his.


    The sudden warmth of his touch sends another twinge of arousal shooting through me. He’s perfect. I’m horny.


    “If there’s anything I can do for you Rita, don’t hesitate to ask,” he says so sincerely, looking deep into my eyes with those beautifully soft hazel eyes.


    Oh Jesus I’m so tempted to tell him exactly what he could do to me, but I don’t. Tipsy as I was earlier, a line like that would’ve had me snorting for a ‘sport fuck’, but the alcoholic effects have long worn thin, and I’m thinking logically.


    As much as I want to, I can’t bring myself to openly admit how much I want him. Why is that?


    “I’ll be fine Alex, but thank you for being a caring friend” I reply quietly, my thoughts filled with regrets at all the time I’ve wasted trying to salvage rtionships with callous men. Where were guys like Alex then?


    Alex squeezes my hand tighter in his.


    We’re on our second cup of coffee, when he mentions he has to think about getting home soon, something about feeding his cat. I tell him we can leave at any time, and he calls the waiter for the bill. I dig in my purse for my portion, plus a generous tip.


    “I’ll get it Rita, my treat tonight”


    “Thanks Alex, but I think I’d like to at least cover my share. I’d feel a lot better about it” and I ce a small pile of bills on the table.


    “Oh… well ok then,” he replies, and I sense a little disappointment in his voice. I hope I haven’t offended him somehow.


    The waiter is all smiles as he picks up the bill, and notices the generous tip.


    As we leave the restaurant, Alex says, “I hope this doesn’t sound like… well weird or anything… but would you like toe back to my apartment for a drink… or something?”


    I certainly don’t need another drink, but I’m more than interested in something.


    “Well…” I begin to answer, only to be quickly interrupted.Original content from N?velDrama.Org.


    “I don’t want you to think I’m putting the make on you or anything like that, it’s just… well… I’ve been a little lonely since I moved here, and I’d appreciate thepany… I mean only if you want to,” the desperation shows in his voice.


    I don’t relish the idea of going home to an empty house either, and I suppose that’s why I quickly consider his offer. I do enjoy hispany, and I’m a sucker for someone who’s lonely. I know that emotion well.