Dinner Out (the Dinner)

I had finished dressing with the exception of my bow tie. My mistress would never allow me to wear a snap-on tie and I was such a futz with the tie it took me a good ten minutes to finally get it right. Fortunately with fixing her hair, doing the makeup and then finally dressing, she didn't have to wait for me, instead I was able to get the car ready for her.

Just finishing vacuuming her seat when she appeared at out back door, I quickly hung up the mini-vac and held her door as she climbed into the driver's side. Carefully closing the door, I went and locked the door to the house and then came back to the car. Climbing in beside her I buckled my seatbelt and waited for her to back out.

"The radio station..."

Oh damn, when I had driven her car to get it washed I had forgotten to change the station back to her favorite station. I quickly pushed the button and said, "I'm sorry Mistress, I forgot to change the station back."

"You know you are not to touch my things unless you can fix them the way I want them," she said angrily. "I'm not sure I should let you come eat with me now."

"Oh please Mistress, I'll try to be better for you, please."

"Okay, but tonight when we get home we'll talk about this again."

"Yes Mistress," I said, holding my head down.

She then backed out of the driveway and headed out of our neighborhood. I wasn't sure what restaurant she was heading to, so I watched as she drove trying to guess. After traveling for about twenty minutes I had figured out we were going to have Italian food at a quiet restaurant she had taken me to maybe twice before. She had been there many more times because everyone in the restaurant knew her.

Slowly pulling up to the front, she stopped and a valet opened my door. I quickly hopped out, but by the time I got around to her side of the car, another valet had opened her door and handed her the claim ticket. All I could do was hold out my arm and escort her into the building.

Once inside they led us to a small table tucked away in the back of the dining area. They immediately brought out some bread, water and the menus and then asked my mistress if she wanted her normal wine selection. She nodded and then, when they brought out the bottle, they uncorked it, and poured a small amount into her glass. She took a sip, swished it through her mouth and then swallowed.

"Yes, that will be fine," she said.

The waiter nodded, filled her glass and then reached toward mine, pausing and looking to her. He only began pouring into my glass when she nodded and then he only filled it half way. This display did sting a bit, it was obviously either rehearsed or something she did quite often, obviously with someone else. While I knew I had no right to demand that I be her only one, I had always assumed her and I were exclusive. Perhaps I was wrong.

"I think I'm going to get the lasagna, it's always so good here. And I think the salmon would be good for you, what do you think, the salmon?" she asked.

Trying not to sulk, I replied, "The salmon will be fine."

"That's good, you know how they use so much garlic in the pasta, I don't want to smell the garlic on you all night."

"Yes Mistress," I said, reaching for my wine and taking a sip.

When the waiter appeared, she ordered for us also requesting they bring me a salad, with no dressing. The waiter wrote it all down and left, so I scooted my chair a bit closer to my mistress and then looked around the restaurant. Although there were a number of people dining, we were situated away from most of the activity so no one was really paying any attention.

To prepare for my salad, I reached down, unzipped my zipper and gently eased my bad boy out. It wasn't hard, but I gently began kneading it between my fingers and it quickly firmed up. Although I knew my mistress was watching every move, I was able to begin stroking it without anyone knowing what I was doing. Over the years I got pretty good at stimulating myself secretly.

I continued sliding my hand up and down my shaft and let my mind slip to earlier in the afternoon when I kneeled down between my mistress's legs. The image of her huge legs opening to her delicate pussy and then the memory of the taste as I slipped my tongue inside her inspired me as I began to feel the pressure building in my balls.

Noticing the waiter approach with my salad, I paused, but as soon as he set down the bowl and turned I began again. As I got closer, I carefully ease my chair back a bit and then lowered the salad down between my knees. Letting myself go, I felt the pleasure shoot down my shaft and I pushed my bad boy down so I wouldn't spill a drop. I came, spurting my cum again and again into my salad.

As my orgasm subsided and my bad boy began to shrink, I gently milked a last few drops of cum from it and then placed the salad back on the table. Quickly zipping up my zipper I scooted my chair back and grabbed my fork, carefully stirring to work the salad dressing through all the salad. Glancing up at my mistress to see if it was stirred enough, I waited until she nodded.

When she nodded, I took my fork and began to eat the salad. I do have to admit, the salty tang of my cum did go well with the green salad. I quickly ate the entire salad, much to the delight of my mistress.

The rest of dinner went well, the salmon was very good and my mistress seemed to enjoy her lasagna. When the waiter brought the bill, she paid with cash, leaving a hefty tip. We then got up and headed to the valet, where she handed him the ticket and as we climbed into the car she gave the valet a nice tip too.

As she started the car she said, "I had fun this evening, so much fun I think we may need to do something special when we get home."

"Yes Mistress," I answered, suddenly anxious to get home.