Dinner

You’re waiting for me in the living room anxious to get to dinner, checking your watch as if an unknown deadline is approaching. You’re hungry and you want to eat. I tell you that I’ll only be a minute or two longer.

I stand before the mirror in my bathroom, adjusting my skirt. After hearing your reaction on the phone to this skirt, there was no doubt what I’d be wearing tonight. I wrap the skirt around me and secure the button and buckle, the only two things that hold the skirt on. I adjust my blouse, the ivory one you like so much, the outline of my lace bra definitely visible, the cups of the brassiere cradling my breasts, lifting them, the delicate lace barely covering each nipple. I know that if you were to look close enough, you would see the dark circle peeking out from the top. My hair rests below my shoulders, just a touch of spray to keep the hold, but the silky strands are loose waiting for your fingers to run through and wind around. I slip into my black heels, dab perfume on nearly every exposed and not exposed crease. Feeling so incredibly sexy, I grab my bag and head down the hall.

You’re standing near the door, looking very impatient. I meet your eyes as I round the corner from the hall. Instantly your demeanor changes as your eyes travel up and down my body. You recognize the skirt; a slow smile crosses your face. Without a word you look into my eyes, and I nod my head walking toward you. You extend your hand to me and I slip mine into yours. You twirl me once for the full view and whisper your approval of my choice in my ear. As we leave the house you place your hand softly at the small of my back, sending a shiver up my spine.

As we drive to the restaurant, I move my legs while I shift so that the skirt falls open revealing my silky black stockings. Your eyes never leave my legs but you don’t say a word, your fingers lightly stroke my knee. In the parking lot before leaving the car, I lean over and kiss you ever so lightly on the lips.

Our table is ready when we arrive; the hostess takes two menu’s and leads us toward our etiler escort booth.

The quintessential gentleman by appearance and decorum, you never provide any indication that you are a master of my body, mind, heart and soul. Heads turn as we walk past to get to our table, I am surely the envy of most women. You exude a confidence that attracts women to you, although most do not know why, and would refuse to acknowledge their secret will for submission. The men subtly acknowledge and affirm your ability to embody what they only dream to possess in a partner I smile as I walk, thinking if they only knew. My pulse quickens as I feel your eyes at my back, your hand, again on the small of my back, sears my flesh. The skirt parts as I walk revealing a sheer black stocking-.clad leg.

We’re seated in a corner booth; you slide in next to me as you usually do. Your arm draped casually on the back of the booth as you give our drink order. As I flip through the menu, I feel your hand on my shoulder causing me to shudder. I look over at you, my eyes already dark and passion filled- yours dark and cool although there is gentleness within their depths. I sigh knowing full well that if you wanted to take me then and there I would let you.

As if reading my mind you lean in close and whisper, “If I wanted to- you know I would.” Your voice is smooth and as cool as your eyes.

I close my eyes and nod softly, acknowledging the truth. I have trust in you, and know that you would never do anything to demean what we share, what you know is special to me, and you have never suggested anything that we both haven’t found pleasurable.

The waitress returned with our drinks, I quickly sipped on mine, trying to calm my nerves. Having you so close always puts me on edge almost ready to explode with a single touch. We give our order, both having the steak and seafood combo- you with shrimp me with the crab and a plate of appetizers.

The waitress leaves with our food and drink order, you pull me to eve gelen escort you resting in the crook of your arm. I push back in the seat, knowing you want to see the crux of my thighs, how the skirt falls from my legs; you want to see what I described to you while I was at work. The skirt falls away from each leg revealing the white skin of my thighs above the lacy top stockings. Quietly you tell me “more” and I part the skirt even further, giving you a glimpse of my sex.

The waitress returns with another round of drinks and our appetizers. I sip the wine savoring the flavor. Your hand slides down the outside of my thigh and back up the inside- your fingers grazing my silky lips, a soft moan escapes my lips, and I shift in my seat. You lift a potato skin to my lips, staring deep into my eyes. My lips part and I bite the food as your fingers slide between my pussy lips- stroking from the bottom to the top, flicking my clit, making me jump. You rub my clit slowly with your thumb, cupping my pussy, your middle finger sliding just inside my hole.

“Are you starting to feel uncomfortable?” you ask, grinning.

“No.” I whisper as you slide your finger deep inside me, your eyes never leaving mine. One finger turns into two, your thumb pressing against my clit, not moving, just pressing. You work your fingers in and out of me, my fingers gripping the edge of the table, trying to maintain my composure- the other patrons oblivious. I whimper as you pull your fingers from me, and reach for a mozzarella stick with your slick fingers. You break off a small piece and bring it to my lips, feeding me both the food and my own juices. My tongue laps at your fingertips discreetly, your eyes never leaving my lips. You then bring them to your face, inhaling the musky scent.

“Well, what do you do at work when you’re this tightly wound?” You ask me quietly.

I turn to look into your eyes. You know what I’ve done to relieve the tension; we’ve been in emails while I finger myself to orgasm right there fatih escort in my cube.

“You want me to do that right now?” I query, looking at you a little nervously.

You chuckle softly. Your voice barely a whisper, yet it echoes through me. “You know what I want.”

A simple statement, not a command- but I know what you want and I do so want you happy. I slide my hand up my thigh and along my slit. The folds are already moist, warm and inviting. I slide my middle finger in the folds feeling my juices envelope it. I touch my already engorged clit and begin to rub. You slide your arm around me again; your fingers caress my arm. I rub faster and harder knowing that I will cum hard and quick given the environment.

I lean into your body, my body tight, your whispers hot in my ear, encouraging, welcoming, loving. I feel myself falling over the edge; you tighten your arm around me and draw me close to you, absorbing my spasms. Your hand brushes over my hand that has been grabbing your thigh. Soft moans escape my lips, your whispers continue, soothing, reassuring, and rewarding.

Slowly, my spasms subside. I’m surprised by such the short yet fierce quake that just rippled through me. My skin is flush, my heart racing as I quickly look around to reassure myself that no one noticed what I just did. However, I notice that two men look away quickly, and I’m sure they know. I blush an even darker shade of red, and attempt to close my skirt. Your hand covers mine, stopping me.

“Yes, they watched you the entire time, and do you know how hard you just made them. They want you now, doesn’t that make you feel good, my little fuck slut?”

Your silken whispers in my ear send a shudder of delight down my spine. I know how much you love to have men look at me with lust, knowing that I will be leaving with you. Making them want and desire a woman who would do such a thing for her man.

The waitress returns with our meals, stealing a glance at my parted skirt and winks at me. I’m sure to go tell the rest of the staff what she saw. I comment that we’ll probably get the best service in the house now. True enough, our table was never without as much as a breadstick…

We slowly enjoy our meal, I ask you to tell me about growing up on the farm/ranch. We pass on desert and we take our leave. The two men watch me closely as we pass their table. I look directly at them as we pass and smile.