The Restaurant Meeting

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He glanced down towards his watch. It read 18:10. She was late. Jim felt his heart sinking. What if she didn't turn up? He would feel like such an idiot. The world's BIGGEST idiot, to be exact. He sighed softly and looked up once again, brown eyes narrowed.

He took in a sharp breath. There she was, rounding the corner not fifteen metres from him, walking so fast it was almost a jog. Her silky red hair was bouncing in the breeze and a worried smile played on her lush lips. He raised his hand almost timidly, in an instinctive gesture that was a cross between a handshaking motion and a wave. As she neared, Dianed ignored his upturned palm and opened her arms. Surprised, he imitated her gesture and they met in a warm embrace, the best of old friends though they had never met.

"I am so, so sorry I'm late. My meeting was just dragging on and on" dianed apologized, her chin settled on his shoulder in a way that felt strangely comfortable and familiar. "I must have seemed so rude, too. I just up and left when it finished and practically ran out. What a great way to make a first impression, eh?"

Not sure whether she was referring to him or to the people she had encountered in her business meeting, Jim reassured her.

"Don't worry about it. You can relax now. Diane, it is so nice to finally meet you!"

Diane let go of him and took a step back, looking him up and down appraisingly. Jim did the same, feeling his former tension melt away, replaced by a calm assurance that everything was going to be all right. Though he had never met this woman, he was amazed at how comfortable they already seemed to be with each other. It was the first time he had ever been in such a situation, yet curiously, he felt no qualms about how to handle it. She looked exactly as she had in her picture, though a little bit younger and a lot more lively. He thought she was beautiful. He grinned at her and asked if she wanted to get going, as he had made reservations in a Turkish restaurant at 18:30.

"Of course," she replied, smiling in turn. "You know, you're going to think I'm so strange for saying this, but you look a lot better in person than in that picture you sent me!"

"What, are you trying to tell me that I'm not photogenic?" he asked, affecting a wounded tone.

"Did I say that?" she inquired, laughingly. "God you men are so sensitive. Not at all. I just think... I just think you look nice, that's all," she explained, her eyes drifting away from his and coursing along the streets.

"Thank you. I'm flattered. You do too." replied Jim, beginning to feel a bit of colour rising to his cheeks. "You know, I'm thinking about how strange this whole thing is. I feel like I already know you because of all these emails we've been writing, but we've really only just met. Isn't this..."

"An interesting and very weird situation?" Diane cut in. "Yes, very! But it's all right. I'm not feeling nervous or anything, surprisingly enough. Are you?"

"No, not at all. I guess that's part of why it feels so odd," replied Jim, smiling easily as he walked besides her.

As they walked toward the restaurant, Jim and Diane continued talking about nothing and everything, paying more attention to each other's face and body language than to what was actually being said. They were getting a feel for each other, trying to make the other comfortable and gaining more assurance at the same time.Nearing the restaurant they were heading for, Jim extended his arm and pointed to a red awning a few metres away.

"That's where I've made reservations. I hope you like Turkish food!"

Jim had picked Sherefe's because it was relaxed, comfortable, reasonably priced and a great place to go for an informal get together. The small restaurant was very authentic with small tables and comfortable chairs, plants everywhere and turkish knick-knacks or plates suspended on the walls. The colourful room was filled with the spicy, mouth watering scent of the various kebabs and koeftes being cooked in the kitchen at the back. Lively music filled their ears as the entered, a pleasing mixture of arabic and oriental cultures.

They were shown to a table, the only one left in a discreet corner of the otherwise filled restaurant. The whole place radiated good cheer and both Jim and Diane agreed this was an excellent choice as it made them immediately comfortable. They picked up the menus which were lying on the table and scanned through them quickly, exchanging comments on what they believed would be a tasty choice. When they had decided, they set their menus aside and looked at each other over the table top.

When they had entered, Diane had noticed that there were four shakers set in a neat row accross each table top instead of the customary two. She decided to use this as a topic to start a conversation.

"What are those?" she inquired. "I'm used to only salt, pepper and hot pepper flakes on the table top!"

"This here is salt, that's pepper. This purple one is sumak, a kind of mild pepper, ground very thin. The other one is koefte spices - it's a blend you put on meat. Very tasty, really."

Curious, Diane picked up the koefte spice. She brought the shaker to her nose and inhaled delicately, using caution as her nose tended to be quite sensitive to spices. Before she could hold it back, a quick, cat-like sneeze escaped her, a hushed "ha-ishh" which she attempted to stifle out of habit. The smell was akin to that of turmeric and cumin, with a dash of something more exotic which she couldn't quite put her finger on. As she was mulling it over, shaker in hand, she noticed Jim staring at her with a dreamy expression. She quickly noticed Jim hadn't blessed her for the sneeze. Diane looked down again towards the shaker before catching his eye, grinning widely.

"I bet I know what you're thinking about right now!" she said in a teasing tone.

Jim's mouth was rather dry, and he was grateful when a waiter appeared seemingly out of thin air to take their order. How could he possibly tell Diane that he had lapsed into a reverie where she held the fragrant koefte spices to her nose, inhaling deeply and becomming all stuffy as a result?

"I'll have the Adana kebab, please," said Jim.

The waiter thanked him and turned towards Diane, pad in hand.

"I'll have the pilic koefte," she ordered, turning towards Jim, to whom she added, winking, "It'll give me a chance to try out those koefte spices!"

Jim laughed, wondering if he should be ill at ease. He was still surprised at how comfortable he felt with Diane. As the waiter bustled away to another table, he picked up the koefte spice shaker.

"What does this smell like? I've never actually tried..." he said, his eyes alight with curiosity as he lifted it up to his straight, strong nose. He made the mistake of inhaling way too deeply, taking in a generous quantity of the spice, and immediately felt his nasal passages moistening furiously in protest.

"This is strong stuff," he choked.

His eyes began to sting and he couldn't help but cough dryly, a futile attempt at disloging the particles settled into the back of his throat and nose. Before he could hold it back, a strong sneeze barreled its way out of his nose. Like Diane a few moments before, it was so strong and so sudden that he couldn't hold it back. It exploded out of him, a strong "huh-ESH-oo!" that made a few heads turn and a burly ginger gentleman sitting two tables over to their left cry out "bless ye, mate!"

Diane was riveted. They had barely been together for half an hour and here this wonderful man was, presenting her with the perfect opportunity to live out the fantasy she had been toying with just yesterday at the office. Seing his eyes watering and his nose redden as the spices irritated his tender membranes, she felt herself becoming aroused in anticipation. Jim's violent motion, caused by the sneeze, had been mirrored in her own body as she had snapped forward, all hunger and attention. She jumped on the opportunity and fumbled for her bag where, in the hopes of something like this happening, she had packed half a full dozen handkerchiefs.

She drew one out at random, a pale green one with a delicate floral motif embroidered in a corner. She unfolded it at once switfly and dramatically, like someone used to doing it and taking great pleasure in doing so. Tensing in anticipation with each passing second as Jim's nose grew fuller, she slowly put out her hand and handed him the handkerchief as if in a dream.

Jim's vision was getting blurry from the koefte spice's potent effect. Seing Diane getting that handkerchief out of her bag and handing it to him, an unmistakable flush bringing colour to her pale skin, he felt himself getting aroused. He knew from one of her previous mails that she had always wanted to blow a man's nose for him but had never had a chance to do so. As this thought entered his mind, though he wanted nothing more than to grab the tiny piece of cloth and expel all those irritating little grains, he pushed the handkerchief gently back towards her.

"Diane, would you be good enough..." he swallowed hard. "Would you be good enough to help me blow my nose?"

Asking her to do this turned the flickers of excitement he had be feeling into a genuine erection. He could feel blood rushing to his member, pleasure coursing through it, even as his nose was itching furiously and was threatening to spill over onto the tabletop. He wondered how she could react.

"I would love to" she breathed, her blue eyes widening, not quite believing this was happening. Her whole slender frame was leaning forward and his request put fire in her blood. Gently, she held the green hanky up with her hand, positioning it against his expectant face.

Jim shut his eyes and felt the pressure of Diane's fingers against his nose. Her thumb was applying a delicious pressure against his right nostril, her index leaving the left one clear for him to blow. Taking a deep breath through his mouth, this is what he did. He started slowly at first, blowing lightly, still feeling a little bit shy, barely expelling anything at all.

"Harder. Please..." whispered Diane, entranced.

Jim was happy to oblige. The koefte spice was really starting to burn. He did away with his previous shyness and blew harder. Diane thrilled as she saw the handkerchief turn the colour of freshly cut grass as the moisture from Jim's nose began to fill it. He blew again and she felt the warmth of it thru the handkerchief, moistening her own fingers deliciously.

Diane's left hand sneaked under the table cloth. She could feel her cheeks getting hot and blood coursing to her own nether regions as this took place. Hidden by the ample white tablecloth, she undid the buttons of her smart grey slacks and slid her small, smooth fingers incide the silky black lace of her panties. the moisture she came in contact with was incredibly similar to that which she felt soaking the handkerchief.

Still fully focused on Jim, she changed the pressure she was applying to his nose in order to allow him to empty his right nostril. She knew he could guess what she was doing with her left hand, but she couldn't quite help herself. This was, after all, a life-long fantasy coming true.

"Blow again for me, Jim. Don't hold back," she purred, wide eyes staring full into his smiling ones as she shifted the handkerchief to find a dry spot for him to blow his nose.

He was happy to comply, the spices in his nose still itching terribly, making him feel vaguely sneezy and very stuffy. He had noticed Diane's left hand disappearing under the tabletop and just thinking about what she might be doing with that hand turned his slow erection into a full-fledged hard-on. His hands were by his side, and he used them to undo his own fly in turn, moving very slowly and discreetly so that no one would realize what he was doing. In the state of excitement he was in, it was very easy for his member to slip free from the folds of his trousers and boxers; it practically sprang out, a hard piece of flesh gasping for breath as it escaped drowning in clothes.

Diane was so absorbed in Jim right at this moment, she thought she could probably see the molecules making up his features move if she concentrated hard enough. Obviously, his gentle movements under the table didn't escape her and she smiled. She moved her left hand away from the soft moist mound of her vulva and discretely dragged her chair closer to his.

"Blow for me, Jim." she said again.

He kept his eyes open as he blew his nose this time, watching and observing Diane's reaction. He thought it was wonderful, the way her whole person tensed as he blew into the handkerchief. He blew again, even harder than previously, the mucus making a wet, juicy sound as it found it's way into the folds of the handkerchief which was now rapidly getting soaked.

He interrupted his blowing, asking her if she had another hanky, grinning as he pointed out the fact that this one was soaked through. Diane, her eyes sparkling with arousal and her pale redhead's skin now far from it's original milkiness, assured him that she did and pulled out a large, white linen hanky from her bag. She unfolded it in the same slightly theatrical way as she had the previous one, with a one-handed flourish. She once again held this handkerchief to Jim's nose and asked him,

"Jim, would you blow again for me? You wouldn't believe how incredible it feels when I hold this handkerchief to your nose while you do. I... I have to say I'm getting so hot now, the way you look when you're blowing into this hanky, the way it feels when you blow into my hand, the warmth, the wetness, the energy... please, do it again?"

Jim couldn't help wondering how much of this koefte spice he had actually inhaled in that fleeting sniff. It was indeed quite potent, as his nose still felt full despite having previously blown it. Hence, as he leaned forth into Diane's waiting hanky, he still had a lot to clear. He was just about to start blowing when he breathed in sharply, surprised out of it by the feeling of Diane's warm hand reaching down to push his own from around his gorged penis.

His eyebrows were raised in surprise over his wide innocent brown eyes, in a way that made him irresitable to Diane. She encircled his erection smoothly and began an exquisitely slow up and down motion as he blew once again into her hanky. She felt once again the warmth and wetness of his strong blows as he pushed wave after wave of mucus into her eagerly expectant palm, the only thing separating her flesh from it being the creamy flimsiness of the dampened hanky. It felt almost like a series of electric shocks, the feeling being intensified by her extreme state of arousal.

As he continued blowing, she relaxed her fingers, allowing him to empty both nostrils at once. She was running her hand with increasing speed along his shaft, feeling his thighs contract and relax from his combined excitement and efforts to blow nis nose. For the first time in her life, Diane regretted not having a third arm. She sorely wanted to have a hand vigourously massaging the fire between her own legs.

Diane was brought back to reality by Jim softly groaning and gently pushing her fingers away from his erection, the tip of which was beginning to feel slick with his own natural lubricant under her skillful fingers.

"It's getting a little bit too intense... If you don't stop, I just might..." he grinned sheepishly and didn't finish his sentence as she immediately understood what he was getting at.

The magic of the moment interrupted, Diane sat back, still feeling a delicious, eager thrumming between her thighs. Jim sighed, on the verge of an explosion he wanted desperately to occur yet was afraid to indulge in in the middle of a crowded restaurant where he might be embarrassed by it. At least now, his nose was cleared of it's coating of irritating spices and he could once again breathe freely. That had to be the best nose blow he had ever enjoyed.

As if on cue, the waiter reappeared bearing steaming plates of appetizing food and two glasses of wine. He set all this down in front of Jim and Diane, wishing them a good meal and asking if everything was all right. Both grinned guiltily at him with their red cheeks and assured him that everything was more than fine. Smiling in turn and noticing nothing out of the ordinary, the waiter made a small bow and drifted back towards the kitchen.

"This looks excellent!" said Jim, not quite sure whether he should try to attempt any kind of small talk after the intense interaction that had just taken place.

"You're right! Yours looks tastier than my pilic thing, though, I have to say."

"Maybe it just needs something to spice it up," Jim suggested, mischievously.

"Hmmm... do you think some koefte spice might be in order?" asked Diane, catching his drift and smiling broadly.

"I think some koefte spice is definitely needed," said Jim in a conspiratorial tone, grinning back at her.