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Posted:Sep 30, 2014 7:07 pm
Last Updated:Oct 21, 2014 6:59 pm
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Just wrote a short little story about one of our adventures, would love to hear some feedback from the community on what they think of the story and the writing itself. Have a great evening.
J and A
I am waiting anxiously at the bar of this fine dining steakhouse, anticipating your arrival. While the televisions hanging over the bar are showing a wide variety of sports this warm summer evening, my mind cannot focus on anything as mundane as that right now. Instead, thoughts of you and what this evening holds keep running through my mind…an image of something erotic here, a playful tease there, and the thought of how your bare skin feels next to mine make reasoned thought all but impossible. I selected this particular place for its relaxed atmosphere, coupled with an airy and open floor plan that provides some space between the tables. I also gave some consideration to the presence of large table cloths on the tables, and the noted discretion of the wait staff.
I am deep in thought about you and this evening when I notice you walk through the front door to my left. You are dressed in a sexy pair of jeans that accent your gorgeous legs, waist, and that incredible ass of yours. As you walk confidently and sensually across the floor, every eye in the establishment, both male and female, are drawn in your direction. Those high-heeled boots you are wearing also do not hurt the effect one bit. I can see the smooth texture of your sun-tanned skin on this evening as you have chosen a low cut silk top to complete the ensemble. I catch your eyes as you sit down in the chair to my left, and my own eyes linger for just a bit longer on your smile and those beautiful, succulent, full lips. We order your favorite drink, and then walk back to the front to be seated at our reserved table. After waiting for the hostess to pick up our menus and start towards our table, I gently place my hand on your back to guide you in her direction, enjoying the view of your ass straining against the denim of those tight jeans. When we arrive at the table, you notice the presence of a white table cloth on the table, surrounded by a red leather backed booth. You smile mischievously as we are seated in the booth, and I sit a little closer to you as the hostess hands us the menus. I lean in close to your ear, and whisper how beautiful and stunning you look this evening. I whisper how proud that I am to be with you, and to have the chance to dine with you this evening. The scent of your perfume is enticing, and the smell activates my body and it starts to come alive and sharpened by your own body’s proximity to mine.
As you begin to peruse the menu, my hand slides under the table and rests on top of your left thigh. I catch a hint of a smile forming on your lips as you start to feel the warmth of my touch through the denim of your jeans. I love the feel of your leg, the tightness of the fabric encasing your warming flesh. My hand slowly strokes your thigh up and down, varying its pressure here and there. Sometimes my touch is a gentle, almost grazing stroke. At other times, my caress is more purposeful and forceful as I feel your thigh and press your leg tight between my fingers. As your leg begins to respond to my touch, I slide closer and feel your hip next to my thigh. I can see the effect that my touch is starting to have on you, as your chest involuntarily heaves up and down ever so slightly in a more hurried rhythm than it was before. I can see your skin start to shiver ever so slightly as the goose bumps form up and down your arms. As you continue to look the menu over, my right hand now begins to move to the inside of your left thigh, touching that area just below your hip, them moving across your abdomen and just ever so slightly, touching that delicate, delicious, inviting spot between your legs.
As I touch your magic spot, a look of excitement and anticipation crosses your face, and you look at me coyly as my eyes bore straight into yours. I relish the look of passion and desire that I find reflected back to me in those dark pools of wonder, mixed with the warmth and glow of your seductive, knowing smile. You don’t need to express it in spoken form, but your eyes playfully ask if I am bold enough to please you here and now, at this table, in front and center of all these people. I smile and allow a small chuckle to escape my lips, for there was never a doubt in my mind that you would sit in this very spot and come hard, even before you realized my plan and intentions for you this evening. My hand is bolder now, stroking between your legs and flicking you in that delicate space. My strokes are hard, rising to the unspoken challenge put forth by your eyes. I want to feel all of you, the delicate parts of your flower, and to see those areas that respond more fully to my touch. I notice your body writhing now, moving forward ever so slightly to meet my touch more fully under the table. Above the table cloth, you appear to be controlled and much more formal and proper, but below it, your flower is opening and starting to bloom, beginning to drip with your own sweet nectar.
When the waiter arrives and begins to speak, going through the specials for the evening, I watch your breath suck in with a mixture of surprise and surrender as my hand reaches up and unclasps your belt buckle, then the button and zipper of your jeans. As you begin to feel the tips of my fingers exploring the warm flesh of your lower abdomen and stomach, I see your teeth bite into your lower lip in an effort to maintain control as you try desperately to listen and comprehend the waiter running down the specials for that evening. The food is not half as inviting as the meal I plan to make out of you this night. I look intensely upon your face as my fingers find the top of your thong, and then slide ever so slowly but inexorably lower. Your legs part wider to receive my touch, but the jeans encase your legs in a narrow region, making my assault even more intense as your body cannot move to find some temporary relief from my exciting fingering. I feel your engorged lips tremble and shake ever so slightly beneath my fingers as your eyes and mouth respond to the intensity developing below the table. I see your teeth digging deeper into your lips, attempting to curb a sigh of pleasure as my fingers part your lips and feel the sweet, sticky moistness inside of your velvet. With a strong effort, I return my concentration to the waiter, and let him know we will be ordering a bottle of the Cabernet, and this request thankfully sends him away temporarily, allowing me to more fully devote my attention to your blooming, dripping flower.
My fingers run up and down your lips, exploring them and every now and then parting them to feel the wetness dripping freely from them now. I notice you arch your back with each stroke of my fingers across your lips, and I can see the nipples of your luscious, full breasts hardening under the delicate fabric of your blouse. I relish the sight of your nipples getting erect and hard with my fingers’ assault on your velvety opening. I gently, but firmly find the magic button, and rub it teasingly as your body responds with a small shock and overwhelming waves of pleasure. I relish the feel of your velvet, admiring your best efforts to appear calm above the table while below it I am turning you into a lovely, hot mess of passion and pleasure. My fingers travel inside of your lips, then a bit deeper with every probe of my fingers. I see your hands grasping at anything close to them within reach, trying so hard to keep the façade of control and decorum in this restaurant. I smile as I hear your breath coming faster and faster, your breathing becoming more ragged and irregular as you strain to squirm in your seat. The waiter returns with the wine, but instead of backing off from my exploration of your body, I dive in with even more energy and purposeful intent.
I encircle your clit and squeeze it between my fingers, slower, then faster, softer, then harder. You are struggling to hold it together, both of your hands clutching desperately at my arm, part of you wanting me to stop and let you catch your breath, part of you wanting me to bring you closer and closer to the edge of that beautiful cliff from which there is no turning back. The waiter’s words mean nothing to you now, all you can feel and focus on is my incessant probing and penetration of your moist, welcoming, enveloping velvet. As the wine is poured into the glass, you begin to feel that wave of euphoria and ecstasy cresting inside of your body, building from your velvet and flowing hurriedly upwards. The red wine gushing into the glass is a metaphor and symbolic of the honey flowing so freely and strongly from your exploding velvet.
As you grab more and more intently on my arm, your nails cutting into my own flesh, I can see and sense the orgasm washing over you. I remark to the waiter how nice the wine tastes as I sip slowly from the glass in my left hand. He pours a glass for you, and leaves to check on some other table and allow us time to make our selections. I remove my hand from inside of your velvet, and enjoy the afterglow reflected on your face and in your eyes. I discreetly place my fingers one after another into my mouth, flicking the delicious sugar from your flower off the tips, looking wickedly and seductively into your eyes as I do so. I see your face flushed and distracted, your chest heaving raggedly and more deeply as you get your breathing back under control. I see your hands grabbing the table cloth and coming to a more relaxed state, as if the only thing holding your body upright is the sensation of that table resting underneath your palms. I excuse myself from the table to go to the men’s room and was up as you continue to feel the warm afterglow continue to run through your body. After a few minutes pass, the hostess returns to the table and slips you a message that was dropped off for you by the “gentleman at your table.” With some tinge of surprise and confusion, you open the written message and read the words, “Bring that fine looking ass of yours into the men’s room…NOW!”
TO BE CONTINUED
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