and it was hard for me to keep from watching him as he moved around the room.

I just drank in the sight of him working the tables with grace, with the movement of one who knew what he was doing, no wasted movements, no rushed efforts.

He was about 5′7″, with an athletic style body, one that you knew under his clothes, was more muscular than slender. Blond hair, greenish or hazel eyes, or maybe brown, hell I was mostly looking at his ass, trying to decide if it was tight, or full, the black pants were not tight enough to decide.

He did not seem rushed, he took time to chat and relate to his customers. I pointed him out to my partner, he had just asked me what kind of guy did I find attractive, who that I might want to top.

The first time I saw him, he wasn’t our waiter, and I hoped that the next time we came, we would be placed in his section.

I’m not brazen enough to be asked to sit in someone’s section just because they are attractive.

As luck would have it, next time we went to the restaurant, we didn’t sit in his section either. But he did stop and refill our water glasses for some reason.

Ah, but as is the charm in many third cases, the very next time we went to the restaurant, we were seated in his section. He was charming and delightful as I imagined him to be. I delighted in looking at him, the way he moved and the light glistening off the blond hairs on his arm.

I don’t know what got us on the subject, but some how we started talking about his watch, oh I remember now, he made a comment about my new watch that my dad had given me.

He said that he had an eccentric aunt who sent him new watches from her journeys, they were nothing special, just ones that she thought he would like the looks of them.

We have been seated in his section many times now, and each time I desire him more and more, though I find it hard to take away with me the memory of what he look like enough to give myself a good wank.

On one of our visits, he told us that he works daytime for a construction company, so now I find myself trying to imagine what he looks like in a pair of jeans, with a tool belt strapped around his waist.

This very last visit, he told us his tools and tool belt were stolen, so he had to buy a new set and has to break them in again, and how much work that is.

I imagine thinking of ways to proposition him, of getting him outside, where we could flirt.

I wonder if he knows that we find him attractive, does he suspect?

Is he bothered by it, or does he enjoy it?

right or left

what works for you?

left, he says,

right, he said.

left or right, its the same for me, he says.

me, I’m always right

can’t do left

it doesn’t flow

it doesn’t seem right

it’s unnatural

the rhythm just ain’t there

ain’t no jive in that beat

the angle is wrong

I’m just faithful to the right ((a silly discussion at work today))