Sara Jameson is an aspiring young novelist on the verge of her big break. During a night out on the town celebrating her imminent success, a chance meeting with a local sports star leads to an unexpected dinner invitation at the most exclusive restaurant in New York City.
Amid the glitz and glamour of Le Bernardin, a few too many glasses of champagne ushers in a decadent night in which the innocent intellectual finds herself crossing new boundaries with a dark-skinned & charismatic stranger.
The night of rapturous passion appears to herald a new chapter in young Sara's life, but when she awakens the next morning she discovers that things might not be as perfect as they seem.
Warning: This 6,000 word story contains scenes of erotic romance, explicit language, hot interracial sex, oral sex, and rough sex with a well-endowed celebrity billionaire pro athlete. Intended Only for Mature Audiences 18+.
The waiter walked back over to give Terrence a message from the Chef. "The Chef says it would be his pleasure, anything for the finest point-guard that New York has ever seen."
Terrence laughed, self-deprecatingly. "You're too kind. Tell him I say thank you."
Sara studied his chiseled face as he interacted with the waiter. How could someone so phenomenal regard himself without the least bit of conceit? He was at the top of the world, yet so humble--a veritable King in New York City, the greatest city in the world. He could have anything he wanted, and anyone he wanted.
Within minutes the table was filled with every sort of culinary delight imaginable. Sara ate the most delicious dish she had ever tasted in her life, then tried the next plate and decided that was the most delicious thing she'd ever tasted. The server hurriedly brought over two more plates, uncovering a mouthwatering pair of expertly cooked filet mignons dressed in exotic garnishing. Another plate cover revealed a pistachio crusted rack of lamb, glistening in its glaze as steam loomed over to the delicately arranged caviar covering every pigment of the rainbow. The presentation of each dish was so beautiful; the table bloomed to life as a collage of vibrant foods worthy of their own art display. And there was even sushi. Sushi! At a French restaurant. Oh, the things money could buy! But it can't buy good taste. Terrence has taste, he has class, he has everything.
An hour later Sara was feeling tipsy from the rosé--also bold and a bit impudent. She slipped her left foot out of her heel and lifted it up beneath the pink tablecloth. She caressed Terrence's leg, sliding her foot up towards his thigh, playfully rubbing his crotch with her foot. She could feel his cock start to grow, but he simply smiled across the table as though it wasn't even happening.
"Boy, you're something else," she said with a smirk.
He flashed that boyish grin again. It absolutely killed her, that smile.
About Cassie Laurent
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Published February 26, 2013
by Cassie Laurent.
Erotica, Literature & Fiction.