Angry Sandwich Lady

He surprised her by coming back for lunch. He’d just texted her and she was walking around the room in nothing but her panties. She had mentioned she often did this, often wandered around her apartment or wherever she was with nothing on but panties, sometimes a t-shirt.

Anyway, he’d just texted her and so she thought that meant she’d have 10 or 15 minutes to get ready. Then, he knocked at the door. Apparently, he’d gotten all the way to the hotel before he’d texted her about whether or not she’d want to eat lunch. Either way, he was going to see her, take a break from the conference.

So, he opened the door after a couple of knocks. Now, she was scurrying about in a sweatshirt and panties. She ran into the bathroom and asked him to hand her her jeans. They talked through the door as she freshened up, got ready to go out into the cold day.

He took the opportunity to choose a place to eat. Something that would be relatively quick. He was due back at the conference in just over an hour. They had time, but not too much.

He picked the place, just across the street. A sandwich shop with great reviews. He held her hand as they navigated the crosswalks and walked up to the counter.

She didn’t know what to order, so he went first. He ordered a panini. She ordered the exact same sandwich. Then, they talked and waited.

One of their sandwiches came up and a woman behind them spoke up:

"That sandwich is mine," said the the lady with the red hair.

She’d ordered a panini with the same number as both of them. And, she watched them walk in, so she was first.

"Fine," said the beautiful woman he was with, "this sandwich can be yours."

But the angry lady got angrier.

"No, I don’t want your attitude, I just want MY sandwich," she insisted.

"We all ordered the same sandwich," he tried to interject.

But the beautiful woman that he wanted to be his was more direct. She told the angry lady to back off, that she clearly didn’t understand restaurants or orders or any of it. But, in any case, the angry lady was welcome to this sandwich, they would just wait.

Angry lady was having none of it.

"This restaurant is ridiculous, that’s my food, why didn’t those two see my logic," she wondered.

The beautiful woman just took the sandwich that had come up and took a seat.

That left him standing next to the angry sandwich lady, waiting. Another sandwich came up, and she grabbed it. She turned to him and told him she couldn’t believe what the beautiful woman had said. She told him the beautiful woman was a bitch.

"That's why she's my girlfriend," he said.

The angry lady with the red hair stormed off.

The beautiful woman ate lunch with him and then hugged him close as he waited for his Lyft. He loved the scent of her, the cold air, the outside sweat, the hint of Chanel’s Coco Mademoiselle. He knew he’d carry it with him to the conference, to his meetings.

They had an actual date that night. Dinner and a ballet. She’d be in a little black dress and heels. He imagined the entire thing as he sat in a stiff chair at the conference hotel.

When he returned from his day of meetings, she was already prepping in the bathroom. He noted the shape of her foot in stockings, the length of her legs, the blonde hair and green eyes and deep red lips.

She started talking about the angry sandwich lady. She asked him what the conversation had been. He told the beautiful woman standing there that the angry sandwich lady had called her a bitch.

She asked him how he’d replied. He told her he’d told angry sandwich lady that that was exactly why the beautiful woman was his girlfriend.

The beautiful woman melted. She walked over to him and kissed his lips with her freshly painted ones. She got on her knees and massaged his cock through his wool suit pants. She unzipped him and pulled the semi-hard flesh of his cock out his pants.

Her lips caressed his head, but she wasted no time taking all of him in. He was thick and his veins were pulsing, his cock throbbing hard. Her focus had excited him. He placed his hands in her hair and leaned back.

She wanted him, all of him. She looked into his eyes as she took him further in, let him back out. He could smell her perfume, smell her hair. He had wanted this for some time now.

With incredible flicks of her tongue and perfect suction from her lips, she extracted the tension of his climax, felt his head grow harder, felt him shoot the heat of his cum onto her tongue, into the back of her throat. She loved his taste as she loved everything about him in that moment.

She licked him carefully, attended to every drop of him. She brought him a hand towel and then returned to the bathroom to freshen a bit before they left.

She walked out in heels and took his hand as he closed the door to their room. Dinner, the ballet, and then the rest of the evening.

Right now, she was his girlfriend.