Just A Taste (MYG x reader/OFC 18+ collection, on going)

Just A Taste

You walk through the doors of the Michelin star restaurant in the center of Seoul, hoping that you are dressed appropriately for such a high end place. You were asked to meet a client here for dinner, and the catch is that you don't know who you are supposed to be meeting. Someone contacted you through your personal website and said they had read one of your posted works and wanted to talk about the possibility of developing it further, and that was all the information you received. You aren't even sure what particular piece they had seen.

You've published a few short stories and some others are on your site free, but not all of the work is chaste and literary. Some of it is downright inappropriate for most theatrical releases and you're sure this will probably come to nothing, but, it's on the way to a new club you hoped to visit so here you are. You wonder at the subterfuge but it does make it more exciting, and you could certainly use excitement in your life at the moment.

You give the host your name and he nods and asks that you wait just a moment as he glances down at your attire. You look like you're ready to go to work in the library from the waist up, with your dark turtleneck sweater, hair up, and tortoiseshell glasses, but waist down is ready for the club. You purposefully put on boots and a pair of 'thigh-high' tights that disappear underneath a short plaid skirt. The secret of knowing your upper thighs are completely bare, and the feel of the chill of the restaurant air is a thrill that sends an electric charge through your body, keeping you warm. The host might be giving you a disapproving look, but you don't care. It's been far too long since you've been out, and far too long since you allowed yourself to feel sexy, and flirtatious.

"I will tell the interested party that you have arrived, please wait here," he says, turning away from you with one eyebrow raised high.

'The interested party?' you think. This gets more intriguing by the moment. You look around the dinning room to see if you can spot where the host disappeared to but you see only couples enjoying a private evening together, and businessmen in small clutches who have already turned your way to look you over.

Another moment passes and you notice as a door to another room, at the far end of the dining room, is opened and the host returns alone. You are hoping whoever you are suppose to meet has just called it off, and not that the person is waiting for you inside some secret private room. But as the host motions for you to follow him, you change your expectations and hope you can get the strange business over with and get to the club. You could use a drink and a dance with a stranger, at the very minimum, tonight.

You step inside a smaller room, looking around to see that it's empty of people, and only contains a tall booth, which appears to be facing the floor to ceiling windows looking down on the city lights. You can only make out the deep green velvet fabric that lines the back of the seating, hiding the rest of the booth from your view. You turn back to the host who motions for you to walk toward the booth before he closes the door, leaving you alone.

You step closer, cautiously, looking around at the walls filled with paintings and beautiful dim lighting. As you get closer to the booth, you can see the edge of a table appear and you step up to the opening to decide where to sit and wait for the 'interested party'. As you round the corner of the booth, you are startled by the figure of a man sitting alone in the booth. You blink hard, not expecting to have discovered someone already seated.

"Oh, hello," you say, betraying your confusion. The man puts down his phone and looks up at you with a disinterested glance which quickly begins to morph and change into a sly smile. He looks a few years older, well dressed but trendy, and he has a shock of blonde hair sticking out under a hat he's wearing backwards. Something in his smile is instantly familiar to you but you can't quite identify it in the dim light until he speaks.