Not on the Menu

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Pure fiction. Many thanks to my editor, Wicked Inside.


As I entered, the familiar noise and smells hit me. This sports bar in Bend, Oregon, was my place, my one indulgence. I looked around with a feeling of nostalgia. The place was packed. It was Monday evening, after dinner, and Monday Night Football had at least an hour to go. A roar of approval rose from the left-rear quadrant of the floor, though I had no idea yet which side the cheer was for. I could guess.

I looked around for Gisele. I spotted her, but it took a few moments before I caught her eye. She came over and gave me a quick, platonic, hug. “None of my tables are open at the moment. Do you want to wait, or there is a table over there in Carol’s area.”

“I’ll wait.” I often did, but tonight it was important to do so.

After I spent ten minutes of standing around and figuring out which groups were cheering for which side, Gisele caught my arm and pointed to a small table against the rear wall. She escorted me to the table and went through all the specials, and then took my regular order. The place was busier than I expected. I should have known better — the Seattle Seahawks were playing tonight.

Gisele came back with my beer. She leaned down and asked “Tab or cash?”

I turned to reply. “Tab. When you get the chance, I’d like to chat.”

She rolled her eyes and shrugged. I was willing to wait, if I had to.

An hour later, with the game tied in the last few minutes, the place was even noisier. Gisele had passed by several times, sometimes with eye contact and a quick wave. I caught her eye and signaled for a refill. She nodded.

When she brought it, she leaned in and apologized. “I’m jammed. We’re one short. Sorry.”

“I’ll wait. It’s my last night here.”

She did a double take as she walked away, her face showing concern.

An hour later, the game over, things were starting to quiet down. However, the Seahawks won in spectacular fashion right at the end, so the bulk of the crowd was still celebrating. Even though there were now some empty tables, Gisele was still rushing around. At best, I got a wan smile as she dashed by.

I watched her. I guessed she was in her mid-twenties. Her hair was natural dirty blond, currently in a pony-tail sticking through the back of a baseball cap. Her breasts were small, her waist and hips narrow but in nice proportion. Her legs were long, and her ass was to die for. She was currently wearing a tight T-shirt and cutoff jeans. The T-shirt revealed she was wearing a bra, which seemed unnecessary, and the cutoffs disguised the perfect rounded shape of her ass. Sometimes she wore elastic jeans that might as well have been sprayed on, and I would have heart palpitations watching her then. Damn! My heart rate went up just thinking about it.

Me? Late seventies, heart patient, otherwise in good shape, except for certain parts of my body that regularly protest that I am not yet dead. My age gives me a small license to flirt in an outrageous manner, and it had become a game between Gisele and me. Much of the game revolved around my not being able to find what I wanted from her on the menu. I also leave a note of thanks along with a generous tip every time I come in, a habit my late wife had taught me. This had led to a tentative connection, and a lot of tolerance, between Gisele and I. She, like most servers my wife had written notes to, kept them all. Try it some time, if you think servers are people that deserve a life.

Twenty minutes to closing, Gisele plopped herself down in the chair next to me. “What a night! I am closing tonight, so if you can stay after closing, we will have time to talk.” She appeared to be looking forward to talking.

“Just the two of us?” I leered at her. “Sure you trust me?”

She laughed. “I can either trust you, or I can beat the tar out of you!” She started to get up again. I stuck my tongue out at her. She snapped her teeth at me like she was going to bite my tongue off, and then turned to her work. Yea, it was juvenile, but at my age, I get away with it.

She had left behind a small plastic envelope on the table in front of me. Inside was a small piece of paper with “Take now!” printed on it. I flipped the envelope over and my brain froze. It contained a blue, diamond-shaped pill. I stared at it. I had trouble comprehending, or at least accepting, the obvious meaning. My head was spinning. I couldn’t think. I mentally clamped down and stilled the sudden panic in my skull. I took a deep breath. Even if I accepted what she was offering, I knew I could not be everything a woman wanted any more. I didn’t even know any more what I could be. It had been years for me. My breathing continued deep and fast, and the fight-or-flight response was strong.

After about five minutes, I took the pill out of the envelope. After another five minutes, I washed it down with the last of my beer. I worked on bringing my breathing back to normal, and working to still all the possibilities still racing through my brain.

Twenty minutes after closing, the customers were finally escort gaziantep bayan all gone and the last of the tables were being cleaned and the chairs stacked. Gisele let the kitchen staff out. A few minutes later, she let the last of the front staff out and finished locking the doors. She took one last lap around the place and, satisfied, turned out the interior lights except for a couple behind the bar — they and the patio lights stayed on all night. Finally, she came over to me with two beers.

She plopped into a chair, kicked off her Nikes, and propped her tired feet on the chair next to me. I started giving her a foot rub, ignoring the protests of my arthritic thumbs. She made appreciative sounds while nursing her beer. She pulled the baseball cap off and shook out her hair.

After several minutes, she took her feet back and sat up. “So, what the hell is this about you abandoning me?”

I shrugged. “It’s just my time. They won’t renew my driver’s license. Of necessity, I’ve sold my house. I close tomorrow afternoon and have sold or tossed most of my stuff. I am moving to an ‘assisted living community’ in Sisters. It has beautiful views of the Cascades, is an active place, and when the time comes, offers in-room hospice. But no ride into Bend for bar-hopping.”

“Damn! I’ll miss you!” She glared at me. “You know, I turned down a couple other jobs because of you? Oh well, it will be time to move on soon, anyway. I graduate this January.” She was studying graphic design at the local community college, COCC. She had shown me some of her projects, but being an electrical engineer without any demonstrated artistic talent, I was often at a loss as to what she was so proud of. I hoped there was a job for her.

“I’ll miss you too. Because of you, I have really enjoyed coming here. I didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye in person.”

She stared at me for a while. “Shit! OK, no promises, but give me your phone number. Maybe I’ll get up to Sisters for lunch, or something. Not that I’ve been that great at keeping in touch…” She took out her order pad and flipped it to a blank page. I filled in name and number. She tucked it away.

She continued glaring at me. I picked up the envelope. “Really? This seems a bit over-the-top for a simple goodbye.”

“You’re into looking gift horses in the mouth, now?” She leaned back looking at the ceiling for a moment. “You really don’t know, do you? Not surprising, since I guess I never told you.” She sat forward again.

“OK, short version: When you first showed up here, I was at the bottom, ready to settle for this …” she gestured around the bar “… as my future and career, and to settle for some jerk because that’s all I was meeting. But you reminded me of my pa-pa, my maternal step-grandfather, and all he had tried to teach me. He was the only really good man I have ever had in my life. He took me under his wing when I was in High School, made me believe that I could be somebody, that I deserved better. So I went to college. He died at the end of the first semester.

“All the men left in my life were jerks, including my father and real grandfather, my boyfriends, and one particular prof of the most critical class I was taking. Then you came along, another good man, though it took a while to realize it. So I recovered some of my belief in myself, starting with confronting that prof, got that misunderstanding straightened out so things started making sense again. I threw my boyfriend out, got another one, threw him out too. So I owe you. I believe in myself again, I know I’m going to make it. So, a goodbye fuck seems very appropriate to me.”

I nodded slowly. A lopsided smile spread across her face very slowly. She shook her head. In her cheery server voice, she asked if there was anything else she could do for me. This was the game we played. I picked up the drink list, for lack of an actual menu, looked it over and gave the standard reply. “Uh, yea, but I can’t seem to find what I want on the menu!”

She broke into giggles. She leaned across the table. “So tell me exactly what you want! The kitchen is w-i-d-e open tonight.”

I leaned back and looked at her. I was scared. All I could recognize on her face was anticipation. “For a start, how about some hot pussy on the half-shell?”

“Do you want the appetizer version, or the main course?”

“Probably appetizer.” Well, she was serious. “For the main course, hot pussy Shish-Kebab style. I’ll provide the sword.” Or so I hoped.

She leaned back laughing and clapped her hands together. When she leaned forward again she declared: “I should probably clean the sword, first!” She giggled some more, and I leered. I studied her chest. She took the hint and asked “Any other appetizers I can start you with?”

“Now that you mention it, lose the bra.” I commanded. She crossed her arms across her front, grabbing the hem of her T-shirt. “No! Just the bra, leave the shirt on.” She looked at me strangely, then shrugged with her eyebrows. She went through the contortions that gaziantep escort cim cif bayan all women seem to know that allow them to remove a bra without taking off their shirt. She dropped the bra on a chair, then pulled the shirt down smooth, and looked at me quizzically.

I’ve mentioned that her breasts were small, but she had never worn a tight shirt with no bra. I was curious. She followed my eyes down to her chest where her nipples were standing out about a half-inch above her breasts, lifting the knit material in small, dramatic tents. “Oh.” She said. She looked back at me and wiggled her eyebrows. “Want me to get a spray bottle?”

“Naw, I was just curious why you never wore a tight shirt without a bra. The effect is magnificent!”

“I know.” She thought for a minute. “Just after I started here, one of the girls was accosted in the parking lot by an over-excited customer. We were told to cut back on dressing to please the guys after that. Too bad, because tips did go down.”

I shook my head to clear it. I also needed to clear the air. “Before we get started, I am a bit afraid. I have … limits. I don’t want to disappoint you.”

She smiled. “Send me home now and I will be disappointed! I just want to give you a gift, a send off, and we’ll figure out the details as we go. OK? But maybe a couple questions first.” She raised an eyebrow, and I motioned for her to continue. “You’re not spoken for, right?”

“My wife died five years ago, and I have not gotten involved with anyone since. In fact, for several years before she died, we had not been able to be intimate. I am not sure whether…” She cut me off.

“We’ll manage.”

“I thought you had a boyfriend. He won’t object?”

“We broke up a month ago, and I wouldn’t have given a damn about any objection he might have to anything, anyway. How about you? Any reservations, out of loyalty to your wife, or whatever?”

I smiled. “If Peggy’s spirit was here now, whispering in my ear, she’d be telling me to take you to a nice hotel instead of screwing around in this bar!” I gave her a quizzical look.

She sat back. “No, we met here, this is our place. I want to finish the circle here.” She laughed softly. “I cannot tell you how often, when you made that stupid joke about the menu, I was tempted to just go down on you on the spot. It would have been so worth getting fired for!” I laughed with her, relaxing a little.

She looked at me and shrugged. I nodded. It felt like an agreement had been reached. She leaned forward again, and said: “What next?”

I smiled. “The shirt, please.” She again crossed her arms, and the T-shirt was off over her head in seconds. Her breasts were mounds barely an inch deep on her ribs, but the nipples stood tall and proud. I also leaned across the table, but could barely reach her. She smiled, stood, swung around the table, and dropped into my lap sideways. I caught her back with one arm to support her, and the other went to her thigh. My mouth headed for the closest nipple.

I froze. High school type feelings swarmed over me, and my brain raced. ‘You don’t know what you’re doing, what does her generation want, she could be your grand-daughter, you can’t finish this in any case,…’ I mentally clamped down and stopped my racing mind.

A panic attack? About sex? Really?

I glanced over at her. She was just watching me, with her head tilted to one side. I gave her a quick, sheepish smile. She grabbed the hem of my polo shirt, and started trying to work it up. I sucked in my gut and pulled the shirt off over my head. The distraction gave me a chance to get my mind back under control.

I ran the tip of my tongue around her nipple, noting the rough texture. I spiraled out on the breast, alternately pressing the tip into her soft flesh and wetting the surface with the flat of my tongue. When enough had been covered, I sealed my open mouth to her breast and sucked in as much as I could. I barely got enough to press and roll her nipple against the roof of my mouth. I moved my face in small circles. I felt her hand stroking the back of my head.

While I continued to suckle her breast, I became aware of my other hand again, just resting at the bottom of her cut-offs. I started moving it up and down the inside of her thighs. She hummed happily. I moved above her cut-offs and started scratching and stroking her belly and sides. I tried to memorize each spot that caused her a sharp intake of air.

Her hand started pulling on my head, so I released her breast, my hand resting on her belly just under the edge of her cut-offs. She leaned to kiss me, but the angle of our bodies was wrong. She leaned back, and struggled with her arm pinned against my chest until she had it under my arm and around my back. Now she could twist toward me and our lips met.

She gave me a couple quick kisses, then gently bit my lower lip and pulled it. Her tongue lashed out and slashed across my lips. Her mouth opened, and pressed against me, engulfing my mouth. I slashed back with cinsel bilgiler my tongue, and a small duel ensued. We broke, wet lips sliding against each other, and continued kissing, nipping, sucking on each others lips and tongue.

I had not realized how hungry my body was – I was responding much more strongly than I had expected.

She again broke the kiss, leaning her head back. I kissed and licked under her exposed chin and slowly down her throat. I was rewarded with small shudders. I continued down to between her breasts, and then gave her far breast the same treatment I had given her near one. I pressed my hand against her belly, and she sucked it in to give me enough room to just slide under her cutoffs. I luxuriated in the sensations of her breast and the soft warmth of her skin. My little finger could just reach the start of some pubic hair.

When she started making small protest noises, I released her breast, gave her a quick, hard kiss, then looked down at her cut-offs. My hand started undoing the thin belt, and then the button at the top of the zipper. She watched with me. When I started working the zipper down, she leaned over and started nibbling on my ear. That got to be too much for me, and I pulled back, shoulder pressed against my ear.

“Wimp!” she said, but she was grinning. She shifted her hips a bit away from me, and wiggled. I am sure she could feel my growing erection, which was not quite usable yet. “Let me up.” I boosted her with my arm behind her back. She indicated I should move my chair back a bit. She slipped between me and the table, facing me. She whispered “I’m all yours.”

I reached up, taking the top of her cut-offs in one hand and the zipper tab in the other. The zipper came down slowly. I could hear the teeth separating one at a time. I think we were both holding our breath, it was so quiet otherwise. I tried pushing down the top of the cut-offs at each hip, but that wasn’t going to work. I grabbed the hem on either side and started rocking them down. She smiled, and rocked her hips in various directions to help. The cut-offs were suddenly loose and I could pull them down as far as I could reach. She bent one leg, then the other, to help me. I tossed them onto the chair with the rest of her clothes, the key-ring clipped to a belt-loop clattering loudly as it hit.

She was wearing simple low-cut panties. I grabbed a buttock in each hand and pressed my face into the panties, breathing in her strong musk and the sweat from her long, active, shift. It was the sweetest smell I could imagine. I rubbed my face back and forth while massaging her ass. I tipped my head back, chin pressed into her, and looked up into her eyes. She was still smiling, but there was a new fire in her eyes.

I gave her ass cheeks one last squeeze, leaned back and tucked the first joint of each index finger into the elastic band. I pulled my fingers around, pushing the elastic down her about an inch, and then back moving the elastic down another inch. The panties were soon inverted, the crotch still sticking slightly to her sex. I stopped briefly, memorizing the moment. She thrust her hips toward me. I pulled the panties the rest of the way down.

After the panties were deposited with her clothes, I leaned back. Her natural bush was very light with thin smooth hair. The hairs swept to the center and then down to a final tuft just over the start of her outer lips. I reached out and ran the backs of my fingers down the hair. With each stroke, I traced her flesh further down. She thrust her hips out to make my exploration easier. I could now feel the heat and wetness that awaited me and invited me to explore further.

I stood and pulled her into a hard kiss, while my hand worked my middle two fingers between her nether lips. My fingertips circled her honey hole, lubricating the opening. I slipped the two fingers into her and gripped my hand around her pubic bone, and squeezed.

She broke the kiss. “Easy!”

“Sorry, I got carried away.” I growled back. I set my fingers to playing patty-cake with her G-spot while moving in and out of her just enough to massage the area around her clit. She was breathing heavily now. I recaptured her lips for another kiss, penetrating her deeply with my tongue. Her hands were exploring my torso. My hand behind her gravitated to her ass and massaged it. We were not taking our time or stretching the moment.

After a moment, she slowly moved back, pulling me with her. Hands on the table edge, she lifted herself so she was sitting on the edge and leaned back, rotating her hips to open herself better to me. I slipped to one side as she leaned further back. I could now take a nipple into my mouth as I continued to play with her pussy. She moaned quietly. Her eyes were closed.

After a couple more moments, a shudder went through her body. She caught my head with one hand and pushed me down toward her sex. I shifted around and pulled up a chair. I had to lift her, an arm around each upper thigh, and pull her closer to the table edge. Then I buried my face in her sex. Tongue and lips both played a role in exploring the folds and secrets of her sex. I worked out to the tops of her inner thighs, and back. I nibbled and pulled at her labia with lips and teeth. I stroked my tongue up the fold where thigh met torso, tasting the salt of her sweat. I lathed all the inner folds, her sweat and tang mixing deliciously. I plunged the depths of her love canal, tasting the pure tang of her lubrication.

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