Maybe it was because as she explained the transaction, my gaze kept going from her eyes to her tits and back.Anyway she seemed to get the idea that I was enthralled and she smiled.I whispered, "Magnificent,"She said, "Thank you."I said, "You've been very helpful."She said, "Thank you."I said, "It has been my pleasure."She said, "Thank you."I said, "That's beautiful."She pushed out her chest and said, "Thank you." Her smile grew broader.I said, "Oh, how I wish..." and let it drop.She said, "Maybe you could... "I asked, "Please?"She said, "Follow me."She took off down an aisle toward the back of the store, weaving in and out of several departments and pushed through a swinging door into the storage area. I was hard pressed to follow her but I had an urgent need to stay close enough to follow the lush swing of her rear end. She turned left, again weaving through stacks of stored merchandise piled high in steel shelving. I followed her to several stacks of mattresses, where she stopped. She glared at me. “Maybe I don’t want to eat out.”“So suck it up. We’re going out.”Callie waited a beat and, with a voice dripping with sarcasm, said, “I thought it was daaangerous for me to be out.”“Right now it’s more dangerous for you to be in here with me,” I informed her. “Get your things.”Her expression firmed up, eyes icy. “I would if you’d get out of the way!” Then she shoved me with both hands.She was too slender to move me. I waited until she got the message before stepping aside to let her pass. This was shaping up into a battle of wills.Five minutes later I was striding down the street, Callie matching me pace for pace, albeit with a dancer’s grace. She pointed across the street to a small café, “We’ll eat there.” I shook my head and continued.Bistro de la Gare, despite being nowhere near a train station, was classically Parisian. Small square tables set with white, starched tablecloths were close together. Waiters weaved in and out serving a loud, boisterous clientele..
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