You are at a restaurant in a booth waiting for me to arrive. I am excited....I am wearing a very average business skirt, blouse, and heels, with the exception of thigh high stockings and no panties just as you instructed. I am already wet with anticipation.
I enter the restaurant and the Maitre'd escorts me to your table. I'm about to sit across but shaking your head you pat your outer thigh. I slide in the booth and look at you with fire dancing in my eyes. You have a smug, almost arrogant smile on your face and drape your left arm over the back of the booth and rest it gently on my shoulder. You pull me near, closing our distance. We make small talk, the usual trappings of one's day and I feel your right hand slide up my inner thigh under the table. My first instinct is to slap it away, after all, we are in a public place, but I want to be daring and I feel wanton so I refrain. Luckily the table is draped with a crisp white cloth to hide your exploration. Your hand covers my pussy, you are pleased, I am exposed and bare dripping with my juices. I can feel my sweet honey trickling down my inner thigh. I feel uncomfortable and out of my element; I want to go to the restroom to freshen up but am frozen in place.
You stroke slowly my outer lips and gently nudging my legs apart; your thumb pushes past, and presses against my pulsing clit. You make slow circular motions, my heart races, feeling flushed, I am nervous and slightly embarrassed, but my body betrays me and is alive and wanting. You push two fingers inside while still teasing my clit with your thumb. I want to scream but can't. I am torn between panic of being caught and the erotic thrill of your fingers pumping my smooth pussy. My body feels the familiar tingling sensations, pinpricks, firing off like synapses in the brain. My blouse is sheer and my breasts are pushing through my bra, outline of my nipples visible. Surely anyone walking by our table would stare, revealing my hunger and passion. If I wasn’t so lost in the intense pleasure of you finger-fucking my cunt, I could almost laugh with the secret knowledge that my goose-bumps and hard nipples have little to do with the air conditioning filtering through the place. If anything, a chill is the last thing I currently feel at this moment. I squirm but you grip my shoulder to keep me in place. Our server approaches our table to take our drink order....I can barely breathe or catch my voice to respond. I don't want to make eye contact for fear he will know what is transpiring under the table. I feel hot and flustered; a small, thin line of sweat is travelling down the side of my face passing my temple near my ear. I reach for neatly folded, table napkin. I try to dab my forehead and upper lip softly and inconspicuously, but you, with such calmness, its unnerving, whisper in my ear to place the napkin back on the table. The server waits patiently for me to acknowledge his presence. His indifference eases me, so I clear my throat and try to concentrate. I order my drink in a voice alien to me, shaky and unsure; not at all in control and exuding confidence. He nods and leaves.
I look at you next to me, you grin, knowing, feeling my pussy walls contract and grip your fingers like a vise; I want to cum. You nod in approval and as I feel intense waves wash over me, I try to clamp my legs shut, you continue to thrust, feeling my sticky slickness coat your fingers. We embrace and you kiss me hard and with command, proving to me without a doubt that I am Yours. Capturing my powerful vibrations, muffling my sounds, our tongues intertwine and we both feel the dominance you have over my body. I convulse and shake as my climax pulsates throughout my body. My clit is sensitive, almost painful with you still touching it, but you don’t stop, even though I’m now trying to cross my legs to expel your fingers.
