I knew as soon as I saw her sipping her soup. A spicy tomato concoction in a large bowl, sprinkled with cheese and croutons. One of my better efforts, if I do say so myself.

She was sitting across the floor at table twelve. Alone. Young. Tall. Dark. She glanced across at me through the serving hatch and smiled, and I knew that she knew too.

The next step was to engineer the opportunity. It was fairly late in the evening, so I took the obvious approach, and systematically got rid of everyone else.

As I slowly thinned the staff, the other customers finished their meals, paid their accounts, and left, some of them waving their familiar arms at me through the hatch. I didn't care, so long as they didn't stay. Soon enough, the eatery was down to the last three customers, and I sent the waitresses home, a not unreasonable 'you look tired' as my feeble excuse. They didn't argue, and I didn't care how suspicious they were, so long as they went.

Just the old lady at seven, and Joe. He was a regular, and he seldom had sufficient money to pay his bill anyway. So I told him his meal was on the house, as long as he didn't linger for dessert. You've never seen a fat guy move so fast. The old lady was keen for some coffee after her dessert, and I plead guilty to having told her we had run out. I was desperate. Shoot me.

So there we were. The woman was delicately nibbling a Panini, and grinning at me. I locked the doors, and started toward the table. I never made it. As I turned, she slammed into me, and pushed me toward the relative privacy of the kitchen.

"Sarah." It was a brief statement, not a conversation starter.

"Leith," I replied, content to stare, as I stumbled backward through the swing door.

I slumped against the wall, and suddenly her face was pressed hard against mine, her pretty head tilted slightly up, her dark eyes closed as her lips spoke soundlessly against mine, tongues extending to twine together, with a familiarity for which I could find no excuse, but no objection.

Recovering from the assault somewhat, my fingertips slid down her slim back, feeling her ribs and brastrap through the thin white blouse. My hands reached her bottom without resistance and pulled her hard toward me, her buttocks firm but yielding in my large fingers.

I'm sure she could feel the erection desperate to escape from my trousers, but she didn't release her face from mine until she had thoroughly explored my mouth with her tongue, and my face with her hands.

I'm no pretty boy, but I'm told I have rugged good looks. The feel of her delicate fingers across my rough face told me she didn't find me offensive.

Eventually her immediate explorations were complete, and she released me long enough to catch a breath, and then, as she stared wordlessly into my eyes, she slowly undid the buttons on her blouse, one by one, until it fell completely open before me, only her lacy burgundy bra covering her breasts. I released her buttocks reluctantly, and was immediately repaid. She slipped the blouse sleeves off her arms, threw the blouse onto the counter, and reached behind to unsnap the bra. All this time she was looking directly at my eyes, and smiling. As the bra surrendered to the pressure from her breasts, it fell forward, and she caught it deftly, flinging the burgundy lace away to fall with the blouse. I barely noticed, as this action had uncovered her breasts, and I couldn't take my eyes off them. They weren't unusually large at all, but full, firm, and decorated with erect dark nipples, just waiting for attention.

I took the breasts into my hands, rough skin against silky, bony strength caressing smooth, warm mounds, pillars of womanhood. Squeezing them now, and flicking the nipples with my thumbs, I pressed a sigh from her.

Somehow she managed to open my shirt buttons as I fondled her breasts, and then she pushed herself against me again, breasts to my slightly hairy chest, her groin grinding against my trapped erection, her lips returned to mine.

Reaching down to her butt again, I clasped my hands together, and lifted her from the floor, her mouth still fearlessly attached to mine, and carried her to the food prep bench. The surface had been cleaned and dried carefully, but I expected a reaction as I gently lay her on the cold stainless steel. I got none.

Carefully detaching my mouth from hers now, I stood again, and looked upon her seemingly permanent smile. I slowly ran my fingertips over her shoulders and down over her breasts, her body consenting with a shudder as my finger again flicked across her nipples, on down her slim torso, to the loose white skirt attached between her waist and hips. Running my hands on past the skirt and down near her knees, I stopped momentarily, reversed my direction, and slowly slid my fingers back up her smooth legs, pushing the skirt as I went, gradually revealing dark lacy briefs, a matching set to the recently flung bra. The briefs were tight and sexy across her pubic mound, and I could detect a small area of darkness on the maroon surface, dampness leaking from her ready groin.

My fingers hooked the thin edges of the panties, and as she lifted her butt from the bench, I prised them from her hips, and down her legs, pausing to fling them in the general direction of the other clothes before lifting the skirt up to her navel and lowering my mouth to the source of the moisture.

The curly triangle covering my target was dark and ample, but my thumbs opened the entrance like a pair of movie theatre curtains, and I could see the puffy folds of skin, slightly glossy with the wetness, warm and demanding to my tongue, insistently pink and delicate, like a magnet for my caresses. My tongue slid effortlessly from the base of the lips, flickering without hindrance to the left and right, and deep within, the musky taste of her exciting me still more, her womanly odour perfume to me.

Slowly I worked my way up the path toward her pleasure centre, a swelling more pronounced than the surrounding pinkness, a small firm bump in the weathered road to orgasm. As my tongue touched the spot, Sarah let out a moan, and her body quivered on the hard steel bench. With her feet firmly planted on the bench now, she spread her knees wide apart, enthusiastic to provide easy access for my busy mouth.

Circling the button lightly with the very tip of my tongue, I could feel the tensing of her muscles underneath me, and I momentarily removed my mouth, kissing her legs and thighs before returning to the main arena, and again tormenting her sweetly. The third time I tried this tactic, she resisted by taking my head into her hands, and pulling it back between her legs, clamping me in position. It was obvious that she wanted me to complete the act with my tongue, and I was happy to comply.

Wriggling my tongue fast now, and crossing directly over the top of her womanhood, I could feel her nearing the last moments. Flicking very fast with just the tip of my tongue, I criss-crossed her clitoris with pleasure pulses, my mouth pulling her to release, driving her sex machine onward. And suddenly she screamed. Her legs clamped my head harder than ever, and the womanly odour became more intense. Sarah's thighs lifted from the bench over and over, her groans of pleasure sweet music to my excited body. Slowly the muscles relaxed a little, and I was able to remove my head from its trap.

Sarah sat up now, completely carefree in the aftermath of her orgasm, legs apart, carelessly draped over the edge of the bench, and unclipped the skirt, allowing it to fall to the steel surface,, completely naked now, sweaty and hot. She looked like an apparition to me, and I wanted to be inside her.

Sarah reached over and pulled me hard toward her, and then tickled my chest with her lips as she attacked my belt and trousers with efficiency, and my trousers fell without ceremony to the floor. I was ready to remove my shoes in order to rid myself of the trousers completely, but Sarah stopped me, her hands on my hips commanding me silently to stay where I was.

Then she hopped to the floor, and pulled my boxers down to my ankles. It was readily apparent that I was ready for whatever was required, but she paused to stroke me delicately a few times, her soft hands gentle on my manhood, her fingers tempting my muscles to spasm, but I resisted, determined to prolong this as long as I could.

Standing straight now, she kissed me silently on the mouth, not the energetic tongue Olympics from earlier, but a gentle nerve stroking, a caress.

Then suddenly she had turned away from me, feet planted squarely on the floor, slightly apart, bent at the hips, and her breasts resting on the stainless steel. Her intent was obvious, and she spread her legs, giving me access from behind to that place my tongue had been caressing a little earlier.

Bending my legs slightly, I took her buttocks gently in my hands, and carefully manoeuvred my erection between her legs. She lowered her hands between her legs, and helped me position myself correctly, and then thrust firmly toward me, impaling herself quickly upon me, and suddenly I was surrounded by her wet warm slippery firmness, and she was moving on it, pushing hard toward me and burying me deep inside her before pulling herself almost out again.

After a few of these movements, we got into a rhythm, and her thrusts were accompanied by my own, as I sailed in and out of the tightness, nerves prickled by the friction, calmed by the lubrication, dragged nonetheless toward the inevitable.

Somehow I managed to keep this up long enough that I could feel Sarah's muscles begin to tighten around me, and I could hear her short breath, the panting and moaning, and I realised she was nearly there again. As her legs clamped once more with pleasure, it was all I could stand, and as she screamed loudly again in front of me, I joined in, and it seemed all the muscles in my body tightened at once. I responded to her muscle spasms with a release of my own, pumping happily deep within her, pulling her hard toward me until we both collapsed on the bench, my head resting on her sweaty back; my hands holding my weight off her.

After a short while, she stood up slowly, removed herself from my intimate connection, turned around and planted her lips on mine again. No words were spoken for some time, and even then it wasn't much:

"Howard. Sarah Howard. Nice to meet you Leith. Dessert?"

How could I resist?