There had been just enough time on the plane for them to reach a gasping sexual crescendo before Jake was required back in the cockpit for landing. Both washed up in the plane’s small but well-appointed bathroom, and found that Phil’s limo was waiting for them. Since then, thoughts of food and sex had bonded enjoyably in Megan’s mind; at present, she couldn’t be sure for which she was hungrier.
Herculeo was a new and ambitious investment by one of Jake’s clients who had seen, from the outset, something truly to be admired in its up-and-coming chef, Dieter Baumgartner. Young, crackling with energy and seemingly happy only when making, eating or talking about food, Dieter welcomed each of the eight highly select diners to his private dining area on the 18th floor of a midtown tower which offered spectacular – Dieter called them ‘commanding’ – views of the world’s most exciting city.
“This can’t be your first time in New York?” the chef asked Megan, amazed.
“I’ve done the tourist things, but I’ve never really gotten to know the city,” she confessed.
Dieter was so taken aback that he poured himself a comically large brandy, just to dull the shock. “Well, I’m sure Herr McMahon is more than capable of showing you New York,” he commented in a relaxed German accent which carried none of the guttural throatiness she had expected. “I, On the other hand, am here to show you some mind-melting food.”
Dieter did not disappoint, as was his fast-growing reputation. Hot lobster Vichyssoise and an almost impossibly delicate oak-smoked salmon were their initial starters, brought by a highly experienced, black-suited wait staff. There were escalopes of abalone, flown in from California that afternoon. Wine flowed, a small glass for each step of the lavish, almost confusingly sumptuous meal.
“Take little bites of everything,” was Jake’s advice. “Tonight is Dieter’s culinary concerto, in lots and lots of very short movements.”
Megan got to know her fellow diners both through discussing the food, and their genuine interest in her as Jake’s partner for the evening. Her only flutter of concern was that she might not measure up well to the other women with whom they had seen him, but she was able to put her worries aside. For his part, Jake was attentive and helpful amid the occasionally mystifying array of dishes and wines, and was at pains to stress Megan’s gifts as a nurse and a pianist. Megan was unsure whether it was the wine, the easy company, the unbelievable sex on the plane or simply the best food she’d ever had, but half way through the meal, she decided that she officially felt absolutely wonderful.
The venison, presented as pan-seared mignon and partnered with celeriac cakes, was Megan’s favorite. Jake seemed to have some kind of taste orgasm when presented with the hickory-smoked duck, and then another when trying the braised pheasant with chanterelle risotto. As he and Megan tried the profiteroles together, and then succumbed to the magic of Dieter’s simply perfect apple strudel, Megan felt his hand on hers, there between them on the table, and found it the most natural thing in the world.
The others were moving on to a downtown bar for late cocktails, but Jake made their excuses. “Simply charming,” one elderly guest commented to Jake, clearly content with his choice of date. “We do hope we’ll see you again.”
They spent a long moment gazing over the city from this stunning vantage point. A stream of lights expressed the city’s traffic, silent from up here, while gazing down the ‘canyon’ formed by the skyscrapers either side of the avenue, Megan could have persuaded herself that this was an alien city, and not one made so famous by movies and books that she almost felt she knew it already. Reluctant to rush her, but filled with the need to be alone, Jake made sure they had the chance to say goodbye to Dieter before taking the elevator down and meeting up with Phil at their limo.
It wasn’t until the jet was airborne once more, and angling back north towards Boston, that Megan and Jake were able to enjoy the final course of the evening’s entertainment. She knelt up for him on the generous recliner seat, allowing him to take her slowly, gently, from behind, his hands smoothing over her skin and delving down to bring a double pleasure to her swollen, receptive clit. After they had come, strongly and together, Megan’s eyes opened once more and revealed to her the orange glow of the new day’s sunrise.
“Heavenly,” she said, as Jake kissed her back. “Just heavenly.”
***
After a few weeks, Megan began to realize that she was living not one, but two lives.