Sarah’s Journey Ch. 023


023 Oh God it’s big! How much is left?

We eventually made it to Chris’ truck before he managed to say how fantastic I looked.

“Wow you look just; wow!” Chris finally blurted out.

“Thank you. It’s not too inappropriate, is it? After all I still don’t know where we’re going.”

“I don’t care if you’re dressed inappropriately! You look; WOW!”

“Well thank you again.”

“You’re definitely going to get stared at you know?” he asked.

“I get stared at anyway. I always wanted big breasts, although not this big. I have tried to hide them for weeks and it’s just not possible so I stopped trying, and figured I got them why not show them off.”

“I was going to mention something about their size, I mean they’re like; well…” he started hesitantly.

“Like beach balls?” I helped him finish his sentence.

“Yes, I mean they’re gigantic!”

I told him about the finalization of the divorce and the surgery along with the ‘as big as is safe’ thing. To sort of fill him in. As we were still sitting in the parking lot him staring at my huge breasts. I grabbed the seatbelt and pulled it out, threaded it between my breasts where it disappeared and clicked it into place.

“So you’re ok with them? It sounds like you hated them.”

“I’ve grown to love them actually, but it took a few weeks.”

“Ok then, well I definitely don’t have any complaints at all!”

With that we pulled out of the parking lot and headed out. We chatted and talked as he drove. I was noticing that we were heading in to north Los Angeles. As we drove and chatted, we kept heading toward Beverly Hills and the businesses kept getting more and more posh. I started to get a bit concerned about where we were going. This was definitely NOT a cheap part of town!

Around 2000 we pulled up to CUT by Wolfgang Puck. Here we were in this well used, but not beat up, construction truck pulling up to the corner of Wilshire Blvd. and S. El Camino Dr. I thought this was a joke. I figured there was going to be a taco shop a mile away and he was just messing with me. Until be pulled into the valet line!

“Ummmm, Chris?”


“Are you sure we’re in the right spot?”

“Pretty sure. This is CUT right?”

“Yes it is. But Chris, ummmmmm, this is a really expensive place!”

“Ya it looks a little uppity.” He said pulling a tie out of his blazer pocket and buttoning the top button of his shirt.

“We don’t have to go here. Seriously you don’t have to do this to try and impress me.”

“Impress you? I’ve wanted to go here for months, I’ve just never had a date that I wanted to take here.”

“Chris that’s very flattering, but seriously we’re in the heart of Beverly Hills. This is going to be like a months mortgage expensive.”

Looking out the window and up at the sign he said “Ya might be.” As nonchalantly as could be.

“Really you don’t have to do this, I mean TGI Fridays is fine.” I almost begged as we continued to move forward in the valet line.

“Nah, this will do.” He said almost flippantly.

I know he’s not rich but this had to be 3 pay checks expensive for him. I was concerned about the cost but more so about myself not remembering the little bit of etiquette I had been taught in my teens. That and I didn’t even have a cover up with me. I seriously was blindsided by this, and was really considering opening the door and walking the other way down the side walk.

About that time my passenger door opened, I jumped as I wasn’t expecting it. I thought for a split second we were getting car jacked. But it was one of the valet attendants opening my door for me. As he did there was a definite look of surprise that couldn’t be hidden no matter how professional he tried to be.

Holding his white cotton gloved hand out, after taking a second to compose himself, very politely said “Ma’am.”

I took a breath, and held his hand as he helped me out of the truck that was WAY out of place here. I smiled and thanked him politely. Chris was rounding the front of his truck and extended his arm as I put my arm through his and walked toward the entrance. Every step I could feel another set of eyes becoming glued to me, or rather my breasts at this point. I could hear the conversation tones drop and the under-breath whispers start. I even noticed a few looks of distain from some of the other women there as well.

We got up to the front and Chris checked us in for a reservation at 2030.

“Yes sir we have you reserved for 8:30PM.” The gentle man said. “Please feel free to make your selves comfortable at the bar as we get your table ready.”

“Thank you.” Chris said as we calmly walked arm in arm to the bar.

As I walked away, I heard the almost frantic hushed chatter, “Go get the head Maître D’, and the manager! Urgently!”, over the low volume of Bach that was playing as we walked to the bar area.

I was just praying I could remember which of the 30 forks I was supposed to use for what. As we were 30 minutes early, we were sat Uşak Escort at a table that bordered the main dining room. The bar area was elevated about 3 feet above the main dining room and there were clear panes of glass that separated the areas. The lighting was soft and perfectly adjusted. This was a place that I was sure I would see Jeff Bezos dining at, it was legit high class. Like multiple Michelin Star high class.

A waiter stopped by to take our drink order.

“Good evening how are you this evening?” he asked, trying not to stare at how I was dressed which was definitely not expected for this venue.

“We’re great.” Chris said.

“Would the lady like to order something from the bar?” he said with a professionalism I didn’t even know existed on this planet.

“Umm, yes. What wines do you have?”

“I’ll send the sommelier by shortly ma’am.” He replied as he took Chris’ order.

I stopped him and asked if he could also bring a Scotch neat.

“Of course ma’am, any particular one that you would like?”

I froze. There were only usually a few to chose from. As I was racing to think of something Chris interrupted.

“Do you happen to have any Glenlivet in house?”

“We have a few sir.”

“Any Winchester?”

The waiter paused a moment, “Yes sir, we have 1 at the moment.”

“That will be fine please bring the lady one neat.” Chris said.

“Just to confirm sir.” He said opening the drink and liquor book [it was practically a telephone book]. Making sure to point to the scotch that was discussed, then moving his finger to the price column. Chris paused for a moment and said “Yes that will be fine.”

“As you wish sir.” The waiter said as he walked away

A few minutes later the sommelier came by and discussed with us the wine selection. I took his recommendation on a wine and hoped it wasn’t too expensive. The Scotch showed up a few minutes later and Chris mentioned that he’d like a taste.

“The Scotch for the lady.” The waiter said “The Glenlivet ‘The Winchester Collection’ 50 Year Old Single Malt Scotch Whisky.” As he sat the glass down on the table.

Authors Note: Having looked this scotch up later, this stuff is $25,000 a bottle. And there’s a damn good reason it’s that expensive.

Chris took a taste as did I. I had ordered this to help take the edge off my anxiety about being dressed like I was in a place this high class. It tasted like I licked the face of God, while being wrapped in silk made by angels, from Unicorn hair. There is no other description. I still don’t know how much that 1 pour cost him and I still don’t think I want to know. But I was sure I would dream about it ’til I died.

As we were sitting there chatting, I noticed that there was a discussion with 2-3 of the staff, pointing at tables in the back of the restaurant while glancing over at us. I assume that they were trying to decide where to sit us, no doubt because of how I was dressed. I started to feel really ridiculous and ashamed, if I’m being honest, not to mention embarrassed and regretting my choice of attire. The head Maître D’ walked over and joined their conversation, after a short discussion, apparently filling him in on the dilemma I heard him say, from the opposite end of the bar. “Are you stupid!? No we’re going to seat them at that table.” As he motioned with his head to a vacant yet still uncleaned table almost right in the middle of the restaurant. “Now go make it happen!” He said with an aggravated tone as if he was scolding children.

We spent about 30 minutes in the bar until it was our reservation time. The head Maître D’ came to where we were sitting at the bar.

“Your table is ready, if you will follow me.” he said in a very high-class French accent.

We picked up our glasses to carry them to the table. The Maître D’ politely instructed us to leave them on the table and a member of the staff would bring them to us. I was a slight bit buzzed at this point, having taken off the edge and nervousness about how I was dressed in a place like this, so I did as he said and we followed him to our table. We were led to the table that was now cleaned and reset. The head Maître D’ pulled out my chair for me and when he did, I noticed a staff member that had apparently been following us right there with our drink glasses, sitting them on the table before we even sat down.

While I was buzzed, I did notice that the head Maître D’ wasn’t seating anyone else much less pulling out the chairs for any other ladies. This made me feel really warm and fuzzy inside. Not to mention I didn’t feel rejected, singled out or hidden in a corner like the staff were discussing. I loved that feeling, accompanied with intentionally being sat almost in the center of the dining room for all to see. Ya I was totally fine with being ‘put on display’, it was erotic to be honest.

We ordered our dinner that came complete with Amuse-bouche, exquisite coffee and brandy to accompany our desert. Our appetizer and dinner Uşak Escort Bayan were absolute works of art. I literally didn’t want to eat either because they were so incredibly beautiful and; well, perfect. Also, the service was perfect, not too much or too little attention, and the sommelier made stops during dinner at the perfect time as well.

When Chris was brought the check, our waiter informed him that his vehicle would be waiting when we were ready to leave. He paid the bill that I still don’t know how much it was, but I imagine his credit card screamed when they swiped it. I carefully walked through the dining room, only then noticing how many people were either stealing glances or outright staring at me, as I was still pretty buzzed.

It was rather funny I thought as we walked out to see Chris’ truck parked with BMW’s, Lamborghini’s, Porsche’s, and I am pretty sure there was even a Saleen S7 there.

Authors Note: Yes I had to look up Saleen on the internet. Talk about dream car!

As we pulled away I asked if we were headed home or what.

“I hadn’t planned on it, if you’re ok with that?” Chris said.

“Sure, but after that, I’m not sure what you’re going to do next. That was unbelievable! Thank you.”

Chris smiled and we chatted more as we drove. He was paying more attention to the road this time after getting an eye full at the table for the last 90 minutes. After about a 30 minute drive we pulled up at a bar, just a regular neighborhood bar. Nothing dumpy or seedy, but nicely maintained, warm and welcoming.

“Well this is a stark contrast.” I said with a giggle.

“Hey I’m still a regular guy, ya know?”

“This is more what I was expecting honestly. Am I dressed ok for here though?”

“Are you kidding!? After where we just left, with practically everyone in the place staring at you the entire time, including the kitchen staff that all came out to look at you, ya you’re going to be great. I’m damn proud to be walking in here with you that’s for sure.”

“A regular watering hole I guess?”

“Me, a few friends and some guys from work go here to have beers and play pool or darts.”

Having sobered up I was thinking that I would probably need something to help take the edge off again in here. We walked in and as Chris held the door for me he watched the guys in the room all turn and look as my tits came through the door first with me following. Again, there was a moment of shocked almost complete silence before the conversation gradually resumed with all the obvious stares now turning to quick glances and a few not caring and staring anyway. I looked at Chris and he was grinning ear to ear as he watched this happen.

He walked me over to some tables next to a couple of pool tables that his guy friends commandeered and introduced me to the group. Again, with more eyes bugging out of some of the guys heads about as much as my tits were bulging out in front of me barely covered with almost all of them on display.

We played pool and drank for a while there; all the while I was the attraction as I bent over with my breasts bulging even more-so as I did, to shoot pool during the 3-4 games that I played. All the guys were really cool and friendly, I was expecting a few to be real creepers, but none seemed to be. I did notice that now, this being the first time I’d been on a legitimate date since Brandon and I separated, I didn’t have to buy myself a single drink the entire time.

We left after a couple of hours and I was slightly drunk, just passed buzzed. Chris headed back to my place to drop me off. We continued to talk and I started sobering up a bit. We arrived at the complex and got parked in the few visitor spaces that were available.

“That was a fantastic time. But you absolutely didn’t have to take me somewhere that extravagant. The bar was definitely ok with me, as would have been a drive-in movie.”

“I’m glad you liked it, but I’d been wanting to go there forever, and just never had anyone I thought enough of to take.” he said matter-of-factly.

“I’m happy to know you think of me that highly, you’re not so bad yourself.”

“Would you like me to walk you to your door?” he asked hopefully.

“Absolutely at the very least!” I answered trying to hide my enthusiasm.

We walked across the parking lot up to my door. I scanned my thumbprint and the lock opened. I stepped inside sitting my small handbag down, then turning around to face Chris that was still outside at the threshold.

“May I ask for a good night kiss before I leave?” he said politely.

“I thought you never would.” I answered stepping back toward him tilting my head up toward his 6′ plus physique, my still overly exposed tits pressing firmly against his abs.

He leaned down and kissed me, quickly and gently being too polite. After the half second peck on my lips, he began to stand back up, I assume to leave and not be too pushy. Just as he started to pull away, I reached up, grabbed his blazer Escort Uşak and pulled him back to me forcefully, also grabbing the back of his head with my other hand firmly holding his head against me for a much more passionate kiss. In the split second it took him to be surprised he reciprocated, I opened my mouth, stuck my tongue in his mouth while pulling him into my condo forcefully. I was officially divorced and hadn’t had sex in what, 10 months? “Oh fuck ya this is happening!” I remember thinking to myself.

As we stumbled backward into my front room he closed the door as we clutched each other in an on going kiss that had me already starting to feel the warmth in my vagina along with the wetness that came with it. After a few seconds that I swear felt like 10 minutes I broke away long enough to call out to my digital assistant [DA] to lock the door, as I heard the battery powered electric motor turn the deadbolt I returned to kiss him. He stopped a bit surprised.

“Wait a sec, did you just tell your house to lock the door?” he asked in almost amazement.

I thought this a bit odd for a guy considering the massively passionate and sloppy kiss we just shared.

“Ummmm, yes?” I replied half and half a statement and a question.

Resuming our passionate kissing again I reached down, grabbed his cock that was already rock hard; I could feel the heat from it through his khakis. It felt great! I had a pretty good feel a few weeks ago with him at a work event, but it felt huge and was straining against his pants. He started to move us toward the couch in my living room, I stopped, looked up at him and said “Bullshit!”, while dragging him sideways to the hallway. His excitement was obvious as we continued to kiss with me walking backward down the hall my tongue never leaving his mouth and my hand never leaving his cock. I practically had a death grip on it like I would hold on to a rope for dear life as I dangled over the edge of a mountain.

After practically pulling him down the hallway by his rock hard cock that was still contained in his pants we stumbled into my bedroom. I again took my mouth away from his long enough to again talk to my digital assistant.

“Living room lights off, bedroom lights on, red, 40% brightness, play Lindsey Sterling.” I said as evenly as I could so it would understand me. All the instructions were carried out correctly and in order, I was actually a bit surprised for a split second.

Looking around Chris said “Wait, did you just…” and he trailed off.

“Less talk more kissing.” I said as I gripped his cock with my hand that hadn’t let go of it since I got a hold of it.

We kicked off our shoes at the same time. I finally let go of his cock long enough to start untucking his shirt, as he unbuttoned the top few buttons of his shirt, he already took the tie off at the bar. Off came his shirt over his head exposing a hard and nicely defined, but not chiseled, chest and abs. I could see and feel his abs, although there was that slight bit of evidence that he liked to have a few beers with the guys occasionally. His arms were equally as hard, his biceps and shoulders bulged as I ran my hands over them in almost sheer amazement. Brandon was nothing like this, he wasn’t fat but he wasn’t toned either. This was totally new and different for me. I was loving it, as I marveled at his physique while running my hands all over his torso, I felt my wetness start to seep down my inner thighs. A few seconds later I could smell the musky sweetness as I’m sure he could as well.

With him grasping my breasts as best he could despite his hands being very large, strong and well calloused from years of hard construction work, he was staring down at his hands and how little of my breasts they covered. Reaching up to flick the spaghetti straps off my shoulders the fabric of the dress relaxed a bit but stayed firmly where I had affixed it earlier just covering my areolas. As he started to pull the bra cups off what little of my huge breasts were covered by them the tape began to start to take the skin with them. I stopped him, “Hold on a sec.” I said as I reluctantly let go of his muscular body.

Dashing into the bathroom I again called out to my DA [Digital Assistant]. “Bathroom lights on.” The lights came on with a blinding brightness that I wasn’t ready for. Squinting as my eyes adjusted, I assessed the tape holding my dress on my skin. Gently pulling at it, my skin went with the tape. Damn this stuff was serious. I don’t remember it being this sticky in the store, then again I didn’t clean my skin with alcohol to make sure there was no oil to loosen it either.

I was hurrying to think of a solution. Then I remembered how the surgical tape was taken off, with alcohol to help loosen the glue.

I grabbed the alcohol and cotton balls, then began the process of getting the tape to let go of my skin. It was a few seconds before I noticed Chris standing there watching in the mirror.

“So that’s how you got that to stay on. I was wondering about that because there was no way that was just going to stay on your gigantic boobs with as little as it was actually covering. Which was hot as fuck by the way.”

“I’m glad you liked it, I was worried it was going to be too, well, slutty?”

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