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. You move your left arm to the back of my head and grab a chunk of my hair and pull it very hard forcing my neck back. I gaze into your eyes and the stern and stony expression on your face warns me that you will do as you please to me anytime and anywhere. I am fearful of the repercussions by disobeying, so I uncross my legs and spread them open for you. You continue to rub my steamy wet cunt. I’m lost in a whirlpool of sensations and can only focus on your fingers exploring and plunging into my sweet den. I can feel another orgasm begin to erupt within my core like lava ready to spew from a dormant volcano.
From the corner of my eye I can see patrons and servers walking by our booth but they’re passing by like a blur, much like a train whooshing past the landscape as it roars towards its destination. I know others must be leering at me, but for the life of me, I don’t care, or even notice. All I can feel, see, touch, and smell, is You; invading and conquering all my senses.
I want to cum again. This time, you don’t kiss me to drown out my orgasm but have me ride the swells pounding my body right there in our booth for everyone to witness. My head is back and my eyes partially close as the ripples travel like a river rushing over a rock bed. I don’t want to scream out and alert every person in the restaurant so I bite my lower lip to keep from crying out and I can hear myself whimper as I shudder and spasm in your arms. I am spent and exhausted as I sag into you, completely satiated. I look at you with glassy eyes and you whisper, “Good girl, you have pleased your Master.” My legs shake and I feel like butter inside, completely melted by your words.
You flick my soaked cunt one last time and I jolt in response. Slowly you skim your fingers up, along my right side making my skin bump. You reach the v-neckline of my blouse and undo the top two buttons. Slipping your right hand inside you pull my left breast out of the confines of my bra, and pinch and roll my nipple, coating it with my cum, making me gasp.
I’m surprised, yet so turned-on, aroused, and completely under your spell. If you told me to strip naked right here at this fuckin’ table, I would do it in a heartbeat. I want you to fuck me mindless and that’s all I can picture in my head. I am consumed with thoughts of your naked body thrusting into mine; having hardcore wild, primal sex.
A sly smirk crosses your face and you release my tweaked nipple. My cunt is still dripping and making the leather seat in our booth damp and my breast is hanging out of my bra with my buttons undone. I am almost positive I have that glow on my face, since my cheeks feel warm; an easy give-away that I was in the throes of a massive orgasm minutes before. Bringing your fingers up to my full lips and gliding them along my lower lip, you state in a soft by monotone voice, "Open”. I open my mouth and your fingers dive in and I eagerly lick and nibble on them drinking down my musky nectar. I try to imagine your cock as I suck on your fingers and I think about your hard tool pounding my cunt, craving you to fill me inside with your thick, hot cum. You withdraw your fingers and you caress my cheek. We smile at each other and it warms my heart. We kiss again; our tongues dance and twirl in rhythm imparting passion and lust. A future filled with earth shattering, mind-blowing sex, along with the deep knowledge that we belong together.
I am drunk, not from the cosmopolitan the server brought to our table moments ago, but drunk with true happiness deep within my soul.
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<a href="https://www.lushstories.com/stories/exhibitionism/the-lunch-date.aspx">The Lunch Date</a>