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She called me a Wombat? WTF
This was Ben’s first reaction when Mike told him about Teresa and Claire calling them a pair of “Wombats” after that night at the company “Kick Off”, and then the insult of “giving him a lesson” about pleasuring women.
“That fucking cunt, Claire. She’s the one that seduced me up to her room, then spent her time leaning against the window and waving to someone outside. Then she had the cheek to accuse ME of not ‘pleasuring’ HER, when she didn’t show any interest in wanting to be pleasured!” Ben thought to himself. “She’d be a great fuck if she just dropped the attitude!”
It was Monday lunchtime when Mike told Ben about Friday night. Ben started formulating a plan to set Claire straight, to rein her in. The afternoon’s work took a back seat to his thinking. Every time he walked past Claire, she flirted with him or as she sashayed past his desk swirling her short skirt flicking a lock of hair or casually playing with her unbuttoned blouse to show off her ample cleavage.
“So she wants to be pleasured more, does she? Hmmm! Let me see:-
- First I mustn't cum too soon — twice daily wanking all week should minimize my load and lower my sensitivity — tick!
- Secondly an extra hard erection — get some Viagra from big brother — tick!
- Lots of preliminaries and foreplay — crank up the ‘wow’ factor with some fine dining and romance — tick!”
Friday morning Teresa called in sick so Claire had to change her plan to a one-woman lesson. But at quarter to five just as Claire was thinking of getting ready for Happy Hour drinks, Ben came up and said “Come on Claire, we’re skipping drinks tonight — I’m taking you to dinner!”
(Claire continues:-)
“Dinner? Uh, uh… OK!”
“I’ll pick you up at 6:30 then. Dress up a bit! Cut the slut!” directed Ben and then walked out.
“What the fuck just happened” thinks Claire. “He’s gone and turned my lesson plans on it’s head. How am I going get through to him now?”
Standing in front of her wardrobe, Claire ponders the “cut the slut” directive. To some people, only her ‘sweats’ would be non-slutty enough. Seeing as they were going to dinner she selects her most conservative little black dress even though its neckline shows off her ample bust and it’s hem is rather short. Following the ‘conservative’ thought she decides that bra and nickers would be ‘de rigueur’ but she selects her sexiest set just in case they do get that far.
At six thirty on the dot there is a knock on her apartment door. Opening the door she is surprised to find a very handsome well dressed young gentleman. “What happened to that ‘boy’ from work?” she thinks. Her surprise deepens as he takes her hand and guides her to the red Porsche parked outside. He opens the door and takes her hand to guide her down onto the low seat.
Claire has a sudden twinge of shyness and modestly keeps her knees tightly together as she slides in. It seems the slutty Claire that wouldn’t think twice about flashing her knickers to a guy, has taken leave of her senses. As Ben slides in beside her she demurely tugs the hem of her dress down as far as she can.
When Ben starts the engine there is a deep throaty rumble that comes up through the seat that Claire feels through her core. “So this is why they call these sorts of cars sexy!” she thinks to her self.
With a roar and the squeal of rubber Ben speeds down the street and in no time is on the motorway toward the city. Claire is still too stunned for words with the way the evening has started. Ben breaks the silence with “I hope you like Italian food. I have something very special planned”.
Claire finally finds her tongue - “Nice car. Had it long”?
“A few years” replies Ben. “I got it for my 18th birthday”.
After a bit of small talk, Claire notices that they have gone through the city and are approaching the harbour. Ben swings the car round onto the harbour-side boulevard then slows and turns into the underground car-park of a swank looking apartment block using a key-card for access. “I didn’t know there was a restaurant around this area” declares Claire.
“Oh, very exclusive dinning,” retorts Ben.
Ben swings the car into the vacant parking spot next to the lift foyer. Claire notices the parking bay sign, ‘Penthouse only’. “Shit, this guy’s got some cheek,” she thinks.
Ben hands Claire out of the car and guides her into the foyer and summons the lift. Once in the lift he swipes his card-key again and presses the ‘Penthouse’ button (25th floor). “Well if there is an exclusive restaurant around here, of course it would be at the Penthouse level,” thinks Claire.
After a swift 30 seconds, the lift slows and the doors open. Claire’s jaw drops and her eyes bulge as she sees not a restaurant but a luxurious apartment lounge room.
“Benvenuto nella mia casa,” declares Ben with a sweep of his arm. “Welcome to my home”.
Fortunately Ben has his arm around Claire’s waist which stops her collapsing in disbelief. “How do you afford to live here?” Claire blurts out without thinking.
“O, I own it,” declares Ben. “In fact my family owns the whole building. My family name is Giovani, though I don’t like that to be known at work”.
“But that’s the bosses name isn’t it?” asks Claire.
“Well yes,” replies Ben shyly. “I don’t like it to be known. I made it very clear to Papa that I wanted to make a life of my own in business without family help, so please keep that secret”.
“So you’re Italian then? Ben isn’t an Italian name though?” asks Claire.
“I was Christened Benito, but when we came out here when I was just a kid, Benito was a hated name, being associated with Mussolini and I hated being called a ‘wog’, so I Anglicized my name to simply Ben.”
“But enough of family history. Let me get you a drink”.
Ben guides Claire out onto the balcony. The rays of the setting sun light the harbour with an ethereal glow. A couple of yachts’ sails glow pink. Other boats’ navigation lights twinkle green and red. The honks of the commuter ferries echo up the harbour. On the opposite shore, house and apartment lights are coming on to welcome business people home from work as meals are being prepared. For a moment Claire’s slutty mind wonders how many people across there are being seduced into bed or wives ushering lovers out the back door before their husbands get home!
Ben breaks her reverie arriving with a tray with glasses of prosecco and bowls of olives and cheeses. Claire has a little giggle when she sees Ben has a white napkin over his arm — “Ben the waiter — who’d have thought!”.
As they finish their aperitivo, Ben takes her hand and draws her up to him. She grasps his arm to steady herself and feels his bulging biceps. Their faces are just inches apart. His black eyes sparkle and a broad smile of pearly white teeth splits his strong Mediterranean face. His hand reaches out to lightly brush some hair off her neck and his warm breath sends a shiver down her spine and her heart skips a beat.
“Come sit at the kitchen bench whilst I finish preparing dinner” he says in a seductive voice that she imagines inviting her into his bedroom.
Ben places a plate under the fridge’s ice-maker and presses the button. From inside the fridge he gets a dozen oysters and some slices of lemon.
“Oooh. Aphrodisiacs! Not that I need them tonight,” thinks Claire, as she squirms a little on her stool feeling the wet patch in her nickers developing. As Claire swirls the mollusc around her palette she imagines she has just slurped cum from his exploding cock. She leans over and kisses Ben snowballing the oyster between their lips before she swallows it.
“Mia bella,” says Ben, putting his hand around her neck and drawing her in for a deep ‘bacio alla francese’. Their tongues caress for a minute, then Ben turns back to the stove.
The timer bell on the oven sounds — Ben has obviously planned and programmed the oven cooking schedule. Ben checks the oven and the delicious aroma of spiced roast lamb fills the room. The saucepan of water has come to the boil and he drops a bundle of asparagus in. He takes a jug of prepared gravy from the fridge and pops it into the micro-wave.
With their oysters finished, Ben fetches a bottle of Sangiovese from the wine-rack he has under the mezzanine stairs and pours a couple of glasses.
Plates are set out. A bowl of ‘pane di casa’ is to one side. For secondi Ben brings the tray from the oven and brings out a crown of roast lamb with oregano and rosemary herbs, along with roast potato wedges and pumpkin. The asparagus is drained. Ben carves the lamb and plates their dinner. He carries the dinner plates, bread and gravy boat and Claire brings their drinks to the dining table. He seats Claire and drapes a napkin across her lap then sits opposite. “Buon appetito” Ben declares.
With the main course finished topped off with home made gelato, Ben makes a couple of cups of strong Italian caffe and they retire to the lounge overlooking the harbour. The sun has set and the twinkling harbour lights and warm summer breeze through the balcony door say romance.
Read about what happens after dinner in the next episode.
Note: “Wombat” — an Australia marsupial that eats roots and leaves. Read the first episode for the background.
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This story was originally published by the author at "https://medium.com/tantalizing-tales/reining-her-in-part-1-864acc3260f8" on Apr.10 2023, in the Medium Publication "Tantalizing Tales".
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