“Good Lord, do these guys ever stop coming?”
Taylor turned her eyes towards the grinning Argentinian who proudly displayed his succulent offering. The tastes and smells of the evening delighted her senses, but her body could only handle so much indulgence. Her over-stimulated mouth failed to produce words. The name “Ricardo” rolled around in her mind every time she read the nametag of her gaucho waiter.
“That’s the beauty of this place,” said Ginger. “You’re in control. You can make them stop anytime you like.” Ginger winked at her friend of more than fifteen years, casually flipping a circular card from green to red. A second gaucho, clad all in white save for a sky blue neckerchief, approached Ginger from behind. Noticing the restaurant’s trademark signal to stop, he gracefully retreated, ready to proffer his own savory delicacies elsewhere.
“I’m pacing myself,” stated Brandy. “I want a little taste from each guy tonight so I can decide who’s best.”
“Well I definitely want this,” proclaimed Taylor. She nodded at Ricardo. He beamed with pride as he slid a sizzling, spiced sausage on to her plate. Steam rose from the encased meat. Taylor’s eyes were wide with admiration as she waited for her latest sample to cool. Arched bronze letters adorned the edge of the bone white plate.
“Terra del Fuego – Palace of Fine Meats”
For this trio of women in their mid 30’s, the trip to Terra del Fuego represented a return to normal. Eating out was a hallmark of their friendship. They made monthly visits to new restaurants to explore unique cuisines. As a group they were up for trying anything once. The pandemic briefly put their gatherings on hold, but now the generous, unlimited portions at an Argentinian steakhouse were handsomely compensating for the time apart.
With a confidence earned through four years as a college soccer All-American, Ginger Wasabi was the group’s unofficial captain. Ginger’s parents were of Japanese and Mexican descent, and with jet black hair and an athletic build, she commanded attention wherever she went. As social media coordinator for the local men’s pro soccer team, Ginger hosted videos on the squad’s Facebook and Instagram pages. She was exhausted by the barrage of 21st century cat calls in the comments, but her passion for the sport kept her motivated.
Taylor Rolle met Ginger as a sophomore when the former covered the women’s soccer team for her college newspaper. A mutual admiration for one another’s talents sparked a friendship that continued after graduation. Ginger blushed whenever she read Taylor’s flattering columns. Taylor envied how easily her friend’s physical gifts attracted attention. But Taylor’s conversation skills were unparalleled; she refined them during a 12-year career in public relations. Just a few inches north of five feet with sandy blonde hair, her subtle and not-so-subtle word play sparked the imagination of her suitors. Having the largest breasts of the group didn’t hurt her cause either.
Brandy Korbel was the soft-spoken member of the trio. A thoughtful art history major, Brandy parlayed her talents into a career in graphic design. Her specialty was menus and restaurant Web sites, and the group was often the beneficiary of her culinary connections around town. While the fair-skinned redhead wasn’t rowdy, her ability to put away cocktails consistently amazed her two friends.
Ricardo Real relished the opportunity to serve an engaging trio of women. As a gaucho at Terra del Fuego, his clientele was typically raucous bachelor parties and disengaged businessmen. But this table was unique; their rapt attention brought out the showman in Ricardo. He sensed they enjoyed his presence as much as the food. There was an extra flourish whenever the six-foot tall, slender Argentinian presented his meats. Every thrust of his sword elicited a delighted reaction from Ginger, Taylor and Brandy. Ricardo hoped to earn a handsome tip for his efforts, and if good fortune smiled on him, maybe he could offer his guests the same.
“Oh, Ricardo?” Taylor summoned the gaucho to their table with a sultry tone. “What happens when we’ve had all we can handle for one night?”He stood over the table with a dignified swagger.
“Well, senorita. If we must say ‘Adios,’ I will miss the pleasure of serving you. But if you wish to come again, you are always welcome at Terra del Fuego.”
“I’d like to come…again,” said Ginger. “Although it’ll be a while before I recover from tonight.”
“Very well. Would you like me to do it three ways?” he asked.
Ginger’s jaw dropped slightly. Taylor’s eyes bugged. Brandy slowly licked her lips.
“The check, that is. Shall I split it three ways?”
The women were zapped back to reality. “Yes, that’s fine,” said Brandy, sounding mildly disappointed.
A brisk stroll through the neighborhood followed a meal that Taylor dubbed a “meat orgy.” The crisp early autumn air provided an exceptional backdrop to their walk. Ginger’s place was just over a mile from the restaurant, and the women made her condo their final destination. Taylor and Brandy summoned Ubers for the remainder of their trips home.
“Have fun dreaming of Ricardo,” Brandy said to Ginger with an exaggerated Spanish accent. Ginger smiled before shooing her friend into a waiting car.
Inside her comfortable two-bedroom condo, Ginger prepared for bed. She couldn’t shake the enchanting Ricardo from her thoughts. Eventually she stopped trying. As she slipped into bed wearing a rumpled, oversized t-shirt and a pair of panties, Ricardo grew more adventurous in her mind. His confident grin invited her to further pursue the fantasy.
Ginger had a few items in her bedside table that could enhance the moment, but still slightly overwhelmed by the evening’s meal, she decided to forgo them. Yet her desires became more intense, and elicit visions of Ricardo led to her sliding her fingers under the waistband of her panties. As she arched her back slightly, she let out an intense cry of “Oh fuck!!!” But this was not a cry of erotic satisfaction; this was the sudden realization that Ginger had left her purse at Terra del Fuego.
Ginger stood outside the restaurant door the next morning, well before their lunchtime opening. A warm September day offered perhaps a final chance to wear her favorite floral print sundress. Her calls to the restaurant had gone unanswered since late last night, but as she peered through the frosted glass door, she saw shadowy movements near the kitchen. Still feeling disoriented without her purse, she frantically knocked on the door. The shadowy figure stepped forward to unlock the door.
“Oh, hello, senorita.” Ricardo peered his dark, handsome face through a slight crack in the door. “What a pleasure to have you come again. And so soon. Unfortunately I can not serve you until we open at 11.”
“Ricardo, I’m not here to be served. I think I left my purse here last night.”
“Ahh. Then I shall check at the front desk on your behalf. Please come inside.”
Ginger followed Ricardo into the restaurant. Her waiter from the previous night was clad in a tight white t-shirt and black pants, far less dignified than the previous night’s gaucho costume, yet undeniably alluring. He looked behind the host’s stand as Ginger stood by with nervous anticipation.
“I believe this is yours, senorita?” Ricardo held up a small tan leather purse.
“Oh thank God!” said Ginger as a wave of relief washed over her. “Thank you, Ricardo. I can’t thank you enough!”
“Please, senorita. It is nothing. My job is to make sure your every need is taken care of here at Terra del Fuego.”
“Every need?” Ginger asked, wondering if the tone of her voice revealed her aroused curiosity.
“Every need,” Ricardo responded, stepping closer to Ginger. “Every want. Every desire. All of it can be yours.”
Ginger felt her body temperature rising. Was last night’s fantasy becoming reality? Was she about to sample a succulent meat from Terra del Fuego not pictured on the menu?
“That’s a very tempting offer, Ricardo,” she replied, smiling as he handed over her purse.
“And one I hope you will take full advantage of.” As Ginger took hold of her purse, Ricardo pulled back his hand in a slow, deliberate motion. “But I must go now. I make the chimichurri sauce here by hand each morning.”
As Ricardo retreated to the kitchen, Ginger didn’t want to let the opportunity pass. “Ricardo, wait!” she cried.
Ricardo spun around gracefully, his eyes immediately locking with Ginger’s. His gaze blended intrigue with intensity. As he walked back towards her, he smoothly trailed his hands along the plexiglass sneeze guard of the restaurant’s ample salad bar.”Did you enjoy the spread here last night, Senorita?” he asked with purposeful words that added to the building tension.
“It was very impressive, yes,” Ginger replied. She stood still, her body radiating heat as Ricardo strode forward.
“Well, I can think of another…impressive spread…that I might like to sample.” Standing in front of Ginger, he gently pressed a finger to her lips. His skin held a faint taste of the salts and spices that punctuated the previous night’s meal. Ricardo slowly trailed his finger down to the bottom of her chin.
Ginger whimpered as she brought her face closer to Ricardo’s. He cradled her cheek in the palm of his hand and their lips made a hotly anticipated connection. Ginger and Ricardo embraced their kiss with the ferocity of a ravenous restaurant patron. They were ready to devour one another completely. Their tongues became fast friends, rapidly curling around one another.
As they kissed, Ricardo’s hands slid down to Ginger’s hips. She knew where the gaucho was taking her and she was ready for the journey. He guided her backwards, but their kiss never broke. Ginger squealed as Ricardo hoisted her up with ease. Their table for two was ready.
The gaucho set Ginger down on the table, then dropped to his knees in front of her. He tossed the hem of her sundress up around her waist. Her high cut teal panties were already wet with desire, and Ricardo slid them down to her ankles in an elegant, fluid motion. The Argentine’s hands delighted Ginger as they traveled up and down her firm legs. He parted her thighs and dropped his head between them.
Just as he had wielded his meat-laden sword for Ginger’s enjoyment the previous evening, Ricardo’s tongue became his instrument of choice. Each flick and twirl from the talented gaucho sent waves of pleasure through Ginger’s body. He moved in every direction; wildly unpredictable but with determined purpose. He delivered a series of corkscrewing movements that would have made the restaurant’s sommelier jealous.
Ginger gripped the table, her nails digging into the white linen table cloth. Her body felt as if Ricardo was pushing her over an Andean peak. She closed her eyes and rolled her head back as an all-consuming shudder of pleasure ripped through her body. Ricardo clutched her toned thighs, pressing them together so that he could feel the full impact of her orgasm reverberating against his face.
Ricardo slowly pulled back and stood up with the satisfying taste of Ginger Wasabi tingling on his lips. Ginger’s body heaved as she caught her breath, but there was more she wanted from the Argentine. A wicked grin crept across her face as she glanced at Ricardo’s black pants. The dark fabric encased the one meat she had yet to enjoy at Terra del Fuego.
She motioned for Ricardo to step closer, and once he complied she curled a finger into the front of his pants. Ginger’s deft movements instantly left him unbuttoned and unzipped. She plunged her hand inside and took a firm grip around his pulsating shaft. The gaucho reacted to Ginger’s aggressive touch with a low cackle of pleasure. Without letting go, she helped him wriggle free of his pants. She was ready to feel every inch of Ricardo inside her. She tugged him closer, saying “Take me,” without ever uttering the words.
Two bodies melted together as Ricardo penetrated Ginger. The stylish thrusts he had previewed the night before returned, and each kick of his hips sent a sensational jolt through Ginger. Their combined movement was chaotic at first, but once they found a common rhythm their pace accelerated. Sounds of unbridled passion bounced off the walls of the empty restaurant. They delighted in seeing the overstimulated reaction in the eyes of one other.
Ginger used the strength of her lower body to grip Ricardo deep inside her. They took turns exchanging darts of pleasure. Racing together to the finish, Ginger gripped the sides of the table again. Her body shook uncontrollably as a second orgasm overpowered her.
The wild pulsing pushed Ricardo to the brink. The gaucho slipped out of Ginger as he reached his own crescendo. A series of hot bursts splashed across Ginger’s stomach. Her giggles were mixed with fatigue as she recovered from the impromptu dining room romp.Ricardo extended his hand and helped Ginger off the table. While the place setting had been thoroughly disrupted, Ginger spotted one of the restaurant’s signature red-green cards. She smiled as she flipped the card over to red.
“I’m glad to see you’ve had your fill, seniorita,” Ricardo said with a grin.
“Oh, I certainly have.”
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/s0p261/the_eating_out_collection_volume_1_terra_del
Love!! 😘