#5
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SUBJECT: This may go beyond what you were thinking. Let me know if you are woman enough. Eww, a challenge! But first, let us tell you what you're in for:
* * * Fantasy #23: Dinner Tease I am sitting opposite you across a small table. The tablecloth fully hides my legs. No panties. You know this. Your hand slides under the table and spreads my knees apart. Your feet then move my calves apart and I sit with gaping legs that noone can see. Your hand reaches close to my pussy but you can barely touch me. You lean forward, your chest almost touching the table, jolt forward, and slide your middle finger curling up into me for just a moment. I gasp and a little more juice oozes out. You pull back to your side of the table and sit upright and I think it is over. You take a pen from your pocket, scribble a note on your napkin, fold it and slide it across the table to me. It reads: "Play with your pussy." Without hesitation I put my middle finger all the way in my mouth and lick it slowly, looking in your eyes all the while. I reach under the tablecloth, inch my skirt up and start to gently play with my clit. I smile a private smile, close my eyes for a moment, and start to breathe slowly and deeply, to embrace all the sensations I am feeling: the smell of food, the hum of conversation all around the restaurant, the touch of my finger on my clit and moving in and out of my shaved love box, and the electrifying energy and tension that someone will guess what I am doing. I feel something tap my knee under the table. I grasp it. It is cold and hard. You have handed me a vibrator, buzzing almost inaudibly amid the noises in the restaurant. I open my eyes, a little shocked, well, more surprised, and pause for a moment, but then I know you will have your way, you will insist, so I inch forward on my chair until my crotch is in the right place and apply it, first to my clit, and then slowly pushing it up inside me, exploring its path. Noone but you knows why I have my eyes closed again. Food comes. I do not. That's OK, I didn't want to, not right now, not like this. When I come tonight I want to scream it out at the top of my lungs, each and every time, and I want it to be with you, not with this toy. But this builds the tension and I am dripping the whole while. It's running down my legs. I have never been so ripe, so lusty, so hungry to have you inside me. We are eating. I still feel myself dripping. You reach across the table and hand me a present. A smallish oblong package, gift wrapped in shimmery silver paper. No card. I carefully tear the paper ­ might it be something special? ­ and open it, a package of a dozen condoms in different shapes and brilliant funny colors. The waiter walks up at that instant, of course, maybe he sees what I am holding, and asks if we have everything we need. You don't take your smiling eyes off me but say to him: "Yes, I believe we do." ** |
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