"I feel marvellous, Mr. Wiles," she told him.
"Call me Tony," he corrected, "It's after hours!"
"Alright, Tony, I feel marvellous!"
She barely picked at her food, her appetite had completely disappeared with the drinks and she felt ever well-disposed. Tony was studying her, following her every movement as he had when he interviewed her, watching her hands, her mouth, her eyes, then letting his eyes drop to her fully rounded bosom. He was clenching his wine glass as though he were afraid that someone would take it away from him and she could see the whiteness of his knuckles.
"You know," he told her, "I've never had more enjoyable company before."
There was an urgency in his voice that she had not detected before and suddenly she felt as though perhaps he wanted to talk to her about something that she really shouldn't know.
"Oh, I'm sure you've known many women," she laughed. "Besides, you don't even know me."
"But I do know you," he interrupted, "I know everything I have you know just by looking at you."
"How's that?" she asked, a bit more brazen now from the numerous drinks she had consumed.
"You are a very warm person, your voice, your body, your carriage belies what you say."
"I don't understand," she said sincerely, "What do you mean, Tony?"
"You've told me that you were divorced and you try to be very cold, but I can tell that basically you've been hurt, badly hurt and that you're trying to cover it up. You've got more heart than many women walking around these cold, dismal streets."
She smiled at him, knowing that perhaps it was just a line to him, but deep inside it was the truth… she was a warm person, she wasn't… she couldn't be frigid!
"You're very erudite," she answered, "I think I'm a warm person, I like people."
"Oh no, it goes much deeper than that," he smirked, knowing that he had broken the ice to her real feelings.
She listened while he told her that he had not been happy with his wife for several years, but she had been prepared for this she knew that every married man used this old, worn-out clichй… and it always worked!
Of course, as usual, what she was not prepared for was that he sounded so sincere, so honest, so lost. He told her that his wife had denied him his husbandly privileges, and that he was sure she would understand because she had been married.
Her heart went out on to him and she symphathized with herself, feeling sure that this was that her own husband told his girlfriend. Oh, how the mere thought of it hurt!
"Women don't have the same needs as men," she quoted, convinced that she was right, because this clichй was what she had been instilled since her earliest childhood, and therefore believed, "so don't be too hard on her, Tony."
"You don't really believe that, do you, Gillian?" he queried. "I wasn't making unnatural demands on her, I just wanted her. I've given her everything she could want financially, and all I asked was some love and affection."
His voice was becoming slurred from the drinks, but everything that he told her was touching her most sensitive spots.
"I do understand," she lied, not knowing what else to say for fear she would sound like an idiot.
The waiter cleared the table and poured the remaining second bottle of the strange delicious liquor into their glasses, when Tony excused him- self for a moment. She saw him speaking to the head waiter who nodded then walked to the bar. When he returned, he sat down next to her rather than in his own chair, cornering her into the booth.
"I've ordered you something special for after dinner because you've been so patient and listened to me and just because you've been you, my dear Gillian.'' "I really should go now," she interjected, looking at her watch and trying to exit gracefully.
"Just a few more minutes and I'll take you home, but you must try this drink first… boss' orders!"
He laughed slightly and grasped her hand where it lay in her lap. His hand was warm and strong on hers and she could feel an urgency permeate through his body to hers, yet she didn't take her hand away. He leaned over and kissed her cheek, then her neck and she could feel a chill of excitement shiver her whole being.
She shouldn't let him kiss her, but she felt so relaxed and he seemed so unhappy that she was powerless to help herself. His affection made her feel like a woman again, a woman desired and wanted, but when his fingers stroked the smooth silk of her stocking just above her knee, she tried to pull away.
"You're so lovely," he murmured in her ear, "so very lovely."
She picked up her glass with her free hand and sipped the drink that he had ordered for her. It had a strangely pungent taste, but not like alcohol at all, yet she could feel it warm her as she swallowed the amber colored liquor.
"I really must go home now," she told him firmly, her eyes fastened on the tablecloth because she was too embarrassed to look him in the eyes.
"Please take me home, Tony."
"You win," he whispered, sighing heavily, then added, "but I have to pick something up first, it's in my room, it will only take a minute."
She gulped the rest of her drink as he finished his and he escorted her into the lobby of the hotel. His hand was firmly on her arm as he directed her to the lift with him. She didn't want to go to his room, yet she knew that she would appear ridiculous and childish if she pulled away now and insisted that she wait downstairs, so she followed him reluctantly.
His room was not very big and she listened while he turned on the water in the bathroom and she wondered why he had to come upstairs, what was so important that it couldn't wait until after he had taken her home. A few minutes later, he reappeared, but he had taken off his suit and was dressed in a silk robe, and it was obvious that he had nothing on underneath it Gillian gasped and jumped to her feet, but he pushed her back onto the bed.
"I-I-I'll take a taxi," she stammered, as she tried to stay out of his lustful reach, but he was blocking her way to the door, so she couldn't get out without going around him.
His robe parted slightly and she stared horrified at his gigantic, erect penis as it jerked between the robe and in front of her.
"It's all yours, doll," he panted, throwing himself on the bed and whipping her dress up to her thighs.
She tried to throw him off, but he was sitting over her, pinning her to the mattress, his stiff rod of throbbing flesh bobbing up down in readiness.
"God, no… no," she screamed, but her throat was dry and it sounded like no more than a whisper.
"You're going to like it," he breathed, "you're so much of a woman!"
Her hands beat on his chest, but he just laughed and grabbed her wrists, holding them with one hand as he struggled to pull her tight skirt up over her soft, fleshy hips. Underneath she wore thin, black bikini panties that hugged her firm buttocks, accentuating the slight bulge of her soft hair-covered mound and his hand closed over it hotly, lustfully.
She wiggled and bucked in an attempt to throw him away from her, but he was too heavy and that last drink was beginning to cloud her head and she felt dizzy, almost faint.
Tears of dear and anxiety streamed down her cheeks when she realized that she was at the mercy of this stranger in his hotel room and there was nothing she could do about it! She wanted to claw out at him, tear the flesh from his face, kill him, but she was really too weak. She thought back to her wedding night and choked her sobs as she realized that she would have to relieve that terrible nightmare again, to suffer the rape of her tender genitals by another brutal lustful male.
'Take it easy, doll," he soothed, his fingers working slowly, sensuously at the juncture of her loins, searching for the small bud of her clitoris through the silken material of her panties. He rubbed it steadily with a practised stroke until her clitoris was suddenly involuntarily erect and sensitive between her tightly clenched thighs.