A percussionist with the local orchestra, Ashlee sometimes has very little to do, so she daydreams about the new bass player, Michela. When Michela asks her out to dinner, her dreams seem to be coming true.
But is Michela gay? Ashlee didn’t think so, but her goodnight kiss plants the seed of hope.
Over their second date, they review Michela’s portfolio. Could Ashlee help Michela start her career? Before they can find out, their third date is interrupted by Michela’s angry and violent ex. Is the fourth time the charm?
"Say, are you hungry? I'm famished. Want to go get something to eat?"
"Sure," I replied. "I'm a little hungry, too." I couldn't come right out and tell her what I was really hungry for: her! "Where?"
"I know just the place. Follow me."
"I'll be right behind you."
We both got into our cars.
The place she took us to was a small family Italian restaurant on a back street. It was lit by candlelight; dozens of them around the room in wine bottles that were coated in candle wax of the many candles that had melted down around them. One candle, in a wide Sangria bottle, had melted wax not only down the bottle, but also on the counter around it and more that had run down the wall and onto the floor beneath. The entire room reminded me of a stalagmite cave.
We were seated and given menus. The prices were quite reasonable. Before we could order, a waiter brought a bottle of red wine and placed it on the table with two glasses.
My friend poured some into our glasses, and then held hers up to me.
"To a great concert," she toasted.
I held mine up to her and answered, "Cheers.” We both sipped.
"The stuffed shells are the specialty here," she said. "They're really good."
I looked in the menu. Everything sounded good. "Alright," I said. "I'll try them."
She held her hand up. When the waiter came over, she ordered, "Two orders of shells à la Luis."
The waiter looked at me with a smile and walked away.
"Where did you find this place?" I asked.
"It's an old family secret," she answered. "Wait 'til you taste the food. It's the best in the city."
I nodded and took another sip of the wine.
She talked on and on about how her family loved Italian food and all the dishes that were served here.
Our food was delivered and we dug in.
"This is fabulous," I said after the first bite and began almost shoveling it into my mouth. We looked at each other while we ate but neither of us tried to initiate a conversation.
I finally sat back and looked across the table. I realized she had refilled our wine glasses a couple times. The bottle was empty.
She sat back. Her plate was empty also.
"Dessert?"
"If it's as good as the entrée, I'd love some desert."
She held her hand up again and a waiter came right over.
"Is a dessert room open?" she asked.
"Sì, signorina," he answered. "We always have it ready for you." He gave us both a big smile. "Room number three."
She looked at me. "Let's go upstairs. Dessert is always better up there."
Upstairs? There was a separate dessert room?
She stood and went into a back room. I followed her. We went up a flight of stairs. There was a long hallway with rows of doors down both sides. She went to the second door on the right and opened it.
"Come on," she said as she entered the room. I followed and she closed the door behind me.
It wasn't what I expected. There was only a queen-sized bed in there with four or five candles in sconces on the walls lighting the room.
"This is dessert?" I asked in awe.
"Yes," she answered. "You are dessert for me, and I'm dessert for you." The smile on her face amazed me with its brightness. She started to unbutton my shirt.
"You do want to be dessert, don't you?" She had my shirt open and off my shoulders. She unfastened my bra.
"How can I say no?" I asked.
She pulled off her jacket and unbuttoned her blouse. In a few minutes we were both stark naked.
She held her hand out and backed onto the bed. "Come," she said and pulled me into an embrace. Her lips took mine as she pulled me into the bed. The kiss ... oh, what a kiss ... was hot and wet; steaming with urgency! Her lips seemed to devour me as she rolled over onto me. Her tongue delved into my mouth as her hands started to rove my body.
