Encounters with Meg: Eleventh

After a diligent search, I finally located a restaurant that would work for our next encounter. I needed a quiet place, dimly lit, with a moderate amount of traffic. Most of all, I needed a reasonable maitre d' who would not throw us out in the midst of the fun.

The restaurant that I selected is located on the edge of downtown not too far from the University. It is moderate in size with about twenty tables. The tables have long cloths that reach to the floor making them perfect for my plans. The corner table I have chosen has a curved, padded bench seat with additional seating provided by two chairs.

Fran and I arrive early, and the maitre d' seats us at the chosen table. Two other tables have diners, but they are in the middle of the room some distance away. You are not scheduled to arrive for nearly half an hour, and of course you never arrive on time anyway, so Fran and I take the opportunity to relax over drinks.

"So what does Meg know of your plans?" Fran asks as she sips her margarita.

"Nothing. I asked her to meet me here for dinner. She does not even know that you will be here."

"Do you think she will be okay with it?"

"Oh sure. She's a great sport, and she told me recently she wanted to try something risqué in a restaurant. She may be a bit surprised at what I have planned, however, because what I think she had in mind was touching my cock or having me pet her pussy while we chatted. But I am sure she won't mind our elaboration on her fantasy."

I glance at my watch. "Meg should be here before too long. Why don't you get ready."

Fran finishes her drink and takes a quick glance around the room. The other diners are focused on their meals, so no one notices when she raises the table cover and slides beneath it. A moment after Fran's disappearance, I feel her hand on my knee. I did not think that Fran would spend her time unproductively, so I am not surprised when I feel her part my legs and move between them. The sound of my zipper seems loud and intrusive, but I am sure it is inaudible to anyone but Fran and me.

Fran carefully exposes my cock which is already growing hard as a result of her touch. The first flick of her tongue across its head causes me to twitch involuntarily. She flicks it repeatedly, spreading her warm, slippery saliva across its surface. I move my hand beneath the cloth and rub her thick head of hair in response.

I feel her lean forward and wrap her lips around the swollen knob of my engorged cock. The feel of her wet mouth wrapped around my ready cock nearly makes me cum, but I know that it is too soon, so I restrain the urge to fill her mouth with my hot seed. She parts her lips and slips them slowly down along the shaft, then back up again so she can swirl her tongue around the knob. Then back down again, farther this time, so my entire cock is surrounded by her warmth.

Up and down goes her head, each time taking more of my cock inside her, until soon I feel her lips pressed against my pubic hairs. Both of my hands are now on her head, helping her to match her rhythm to my needs. As she slides back and forth along my cock, I move my ass back and forth on the seat, fucking her hot mouth as the climax builds inside me.

"Are you ready for another drink?" asks the waiter.

I look up, and there he is, standing beside our table, twenty-something, tall, handsome, and seemingly unfazed by what he must know is taking place beneath the table. I know he has been briefed by the maitre d', so I am not concerned about his sudden appearance. As I continue to rock into Fran's unrelenting mouth, I order another round of drinks including one for Meg who should be arriving momentarily. The waiter leaves to fetch our order, and I refocus my attention on Fran's persistent manipulations of my cock.

"Oh, that feels so fucking good," I moan quietly, so that only Fran can hear me. Her mouth continues to glide rapidly up and down my shaft as I move my hips more forcefully against her face. I feel my cock slipping down her throat, and I sense Fran's adjustment of her breathing to accommodate this repeated intrusion. I feel the cum boiling up in my balls, ready to erupt and fill Fran's demanding orifice. Now in my mind her mouth is her pussy, and I want to fill that pussy with my hot cum.

I pump rapidly into Fran's mouth, and she realizes that I am on the verge of cumming. In response, she uses her tongue to caress my shaft as her head rises and falls, sliding along my cock that is now slick with her wetness. Wet, slurping sounds emanate from beneath the table, reinforcing the mental image I have of my cock fucking her wet, juicy cunt.

I cannot hold back any longer--I have to cum. "I have to cum now! Oh fuck, that feels so goooood," I moan. I fill Fran's mouth with my cum, pulling her head toward me so I can pump the hot liquid down her throat. "Yes, that's it. Lick the cum from my cock. I love the feel of your tongue sliding slowly up and down the length of my shaft."

"Here is your order, sir."

I open my eyes and look up, and there is our waiter. I do not know how long he has been standing there, nor do I care. He serves our drinks and leaves just as Meg arrives.

"Hi, lover," I say, smiling up at her. I realize that there is no way I can stand up, so I motion for her to slide around the bench to sit beside me. She does so, and leans toward me for a greeting kiss. I feel her full breast press against my arm as our lips meet. We share a warm kiss, the first in several days. Our lips meld and our tongues get reacquainted. I inhale her familiar scent.

As we kiss, Meg lowers her hand to my lap. I can tell by her reaction that she is surprised to find me not only exposed, but wet and hard. After a moment's recovery, Meg grasps my cock in her warm, familiar hand and strokes it gently.

At Fran's first touch on her leg, Meg jumps in startled response and ends our kiss. She leans back, her eyes filled with questions, but she looks at me trustingly, and I nod, assuring her that it is okay.

I see Fran's hand reach out from beneath the table and grasp Meg's panties at their sides. With her eyes locked on mine, Meg raises her ass, and both Fran's hands and Meg's panties disappear beneath the table. Meg glances nervously around the room, but she relaxes when she observes that none of the several patrons is paying any attention to what is taking place in our corner of the room.

I watch Meg's face for clues to Fran's hidden activities. At first she simply smiles at me as if nothing is happening, but gradually her body responds to Fran's touch. Her smile fades, and the tip of her tongue protrudes slightly from between her lips. Her eyes slowly lose focus and glaze over as her concentration shifts from her immediate surroundings to what is going on between her legs. Her cheeks flush as Fran's tongue seeks out and caresses her most private recesses.

Meg slides down on the padded bench, spreading her legs fully apart so that Fran has unimpeded access to her pussy. Her nostrils flare as her breathing becomes more irregular, and her head falls back against the padded seat. She closes her eyes and focuses her full attention on the sensations being generated by Fran's talented tongue. Meg slides a hand across the seat cushion to find my hand, and she grasps it tightly.

As Fran's explorations arouse her fully, sending tremors coursing through her body from head to toe, Meg occasionally emits a low moan. Each time, Meg clenches her teeth and bites her lower lip in an effort to keep the moans trapped inside, but each time she fails and another moan escapes. As the climax builds within her, Meg pumps her pussy against Fran's face. In my imagination, I see Fran's tongue slurping along the length of Meg's slit, slurping up her seeping juices. I see her tongue dip between the engorged labia and dip inside, caressing the sensitive, crimson lining of Meg's demanding pussy. I wonder if Fran's fingers are buried in her own pussy as I suspect they are.

Meg's climax causes her to move her ass more frantically across the seat as she tries to bury Fran's face in her exploding pussy. Her face flushes, and she clenches her eyes tightly closed. Her breathing comes in ragged gasps that are punctuated with low, stiffled moans. She squeezes my hand tightly, and I can feel the rapid-fire tremors that sweep through her as her body achieves total release.

I glance up and notice that our waiter is standing nearby, watching, as Meg's body convulses in the throes of her fulfillment. He smiles a satisfied smile, and I nod in return before returning my attention to Meg. When I do, I see that her eyes are open but unfocused. I can not tell if she has noticed the presence of the waiter.

For the next several minutes, as Meg gradually recovers, the waiter hovers nearby. Fran slides up beside Meg from beneath the table, making an effort to straighten her clothing and her hair. Meg smiles warmly at her, and Fran smiles back, taking her hand and pressing it against her breast.

"Would you care to order food or coffee, sir," the waiter finally asks.

"Yes, three coffees," I reply.

"Are you okay, Meg?" I ask.

"Ask me again when my body returns to earth," is her murmured reply.