Dinner for Two

We were meeting for lunch at a busy establishment that is renowned for its chicken dishes. As we were being seated, you sat next to me in the booth, as you always do, instead of opposite. Since you are right handed and as I like using my left, this sitting arrangement works out fine. We were out to dinner for the simple reason that we enjoy each other's company both in and out of the bedroom. You look simply ravishing in your tight fitting sundress. Your red tresses are tied behind you in a loose ponytail that sways every time you turn your head. You look absolutely stunning. I notice your beautiful face and so does everyone else in the restaurant.

The waitress, a woman in her late 20's looks both of us over as she takes our order. She gazes with a smile at your brilliant smile and the top of your milky white breasts that show from your low cut dress. The waitress leaves our table, after taking our order, and gives you one more appreciative glance. We giggle to each other after she leaves knowing full well that you are looking absolutely gorgeous tonight and know that we are planning on having some fun. The waitress brings back our salads, again, taking in your contours and curves like she was going to purchase you from the menu. As we ate our salads, you with your right hand, me with my left, the tablecloth concealed our other hands, were free to roam and they did wander. I looked out at the other customers from time to time and saw that no one seemed to notice anything unusual.

My free hand had gone to work raising your skirt as soon as we were seated. It rested high on your thigh as the waitress took our order. You appeared perfectly calm, as you selected the chef's salad and vegetable beef soup. You had already unzipped me and your free hand was freeing my erection from my pants all the while. We are probably served some terrible food and don't even know it. There are only a few things on our menu that we would want.

Only calmness and attention to your soup showed on your face, until you blushed and sat upright at your first orgasm. Two of my fingers were firmly up your very hot, very wet slit. Your shaved pussy, not even a cotton set of panties touching it, is cumming hard all over my hand. You can feel your juices slide along your thighs and my fingers. The waitress noticed your blush; but she didn't say anything out loud. She did look envious of me though as she felt that I was intruding on her territory.

You had freed my erection and took long, slow, hard strokes as our salads were cleared from the table. The waitress parted seeing your arm close to me; moving ever so slightly. "Napkin! Now!" I muttered urgently under my breath, not half way through my roast beef on rye, with mustard. You responded immediately; my napkin disappeared beneath the tablecloth. I placed both feet firmly, flat on the floor, trying to show no emotion as the napkin now covering my throbbing hard on and your hand, became soaked. My vision was still swimming from the touch of your fingers that just departed my now softening member. As I was recovering, you stopped eating for a moment and wiped your hands in the napkin, then touched it to your mouth and smiled at me. No one else noticed.

I withdrew my hand and ran my two, wandering fingers under my nose, as though they were a fine cigar. I smiled back. No on noticed. You love the way that I enjoy the scent of your womanhood. I know that you love the feel of my sperm in your mouth. That is just one of the reasons we have such fun together.

"Would you care for some desert?" The waitress asked. Looking at our flushed faces she can tell what we have been doing. "I'm counting calories." Absent mindedly, you began biting on the crumpled, wet napkin in your hand. Your teeth closed on it, held it, as you drew in as breath through your teeth, making a wet, sucking noise. A very erotic gesture. "Just coffee. I'll save my desert for after dinner." The waitress disappeared to get the coffee. She was taking a little bit longer than we would have thought to get our coffee and when she returned her apron was a little crooked and her face was just as red as ours. We were both in a fit of giggles when she left after asking me if you wanted cream in your coffee with a not so subtle glance at me.

While drinking my coffee, I asked you if you were going to take the napkin with you? I hadn't meant to embarrass you. You blushed again, pulled it from your pocket and threw it on the table, as we got up to leave. As I slide our chairs in, I notice that you picked up the napkin though and deftly folded it in two and placed it in your black leather handbag. You broke out in giggles every time I looked at you; all the way back to my house. We were now looking for our dessert.