There are times when you take my breath away. This was one of them.
I had been wondering about what lay in store as I'd showered and dressed. Pop out for a meal. What exactly had that meant? Were you thinking of some quiet little place, maybe romantic, out of the way somewhere? Or were you planning somewhere more central, where we could be seen by anyone you knew.
I wasn't too sure how I felt about that. And I wondered whether you'd thought that through? Being confronted by any of your friends, how would you introduce me? What would you say? What would your demeanour be like? In some ways, I was looking forward to that. It would help me see 'inside' Sammi and add another piece to the jigsaw of what makes you tick.
Nor had you shared any of your fantasies with me, yet. Maybe we could talk about them during our meal.
Perhaps this was one of your fantasies? Taking me to a restaurant that you knew well and having me fuck you in the restrooms, up against a wall, under the table – or, best of all, on the table with plates and glasses hitting the floor around us while people gasped in shock and horror.
I could just hear the owner, tapping me on the shoulder as I drilled down into you. "Excuse me, you're disturbing the other guests. This particular table is for eating only. If you want to fuck, we have the beer garden out the back!"
But all those thoughts momentarily disappeared when I saw you sitting there in a wonderfully short light blue dress. Arms spread out and resting on the sides of the wicker chair, perfect tanned legs crossed and showing a large expanse of thigh, sexy white shoes, those Sammi-eyes sparkling at me.
The reaction between my legs told me I'd fully recovered from our earlier exertions.
"Hi," I answered. "I just love the frock!!! It's so classy, but as sexy as hell, too. A perfect combination."
Your smile widened. "That's me – classy and sexy!"
"Wait," I quickly said, as you began to stand. "You look so stunning there. One kiss, before you get up."
You grinned and raised your head as I bent forward, offering your glossy lips to mine.
But that wasn't quite what I had in mind. I slid to my knees in front of you and took hold of one leg, uncrossing it as I pulled it to one side of my body. My other hand took your right leg and pushed that to the other side of me. You were spread now, long tanned legs spreadeagled, white panties – or was that a thong? – clearly on show.
My hands went under your knees, pulling your bottom forward so that your head dropped back as your body slid forward. For a second, I felt like running my tongue along your cloth-covered pussy. It was so close to my face after all. All I had to do was bend my head forward.
Instead, I pushed my crotch against yours, letting you feel the hardness that was forming there. My hands slid upwards, checking that you weren't wearing a bra under the dress. With the softest of featherlight touches, my fingertips traced little circles around your nipples. I pushed my hips closer, so that I could ever so gently rotate my hardness against your pussy.
I did think of dragging those thin straps downwards to expose your tits, devour them with my mouth, but held back. Don't spoil the moment.
Instead, I closed in for the kiss, moving my head back an inch each time you tried to respond, letting you know that I was controlling this.
When our mouths touched, I licked across your lips, down to the edges and back again, before slipping my tongue inside your mouth, flicking it against your teeth, your gums, your tongue. Hips rotating, fingertips caressing, tongue brushing yours – all as lightly as I possibly could – I felt our breaths intermingle, enjoying that special, sexy moment.
I pulled away as quickly as I'd sank to my knees, taking your hand and helping you to your feet. I hoped you felt as I did. Aroused in a sensual rather than outright raw, needy way.
Though... God!... was I hard!!!
"Want a glass of vino before we go?" I joked.
+
The bar of Fleece was, as usual, crowded, was it never? What was nice about it, from the point of view of me being with you, was that it drew people of all ages, it wasn't a 'kids' pub which I hate.
"You get the drinks, Alan," I said rather more authoritatively than I intended, "I'll sort a table."
"What would you like?"
"I'll pass on vino, but a large glass of Chablis would be great," I smiled over my shoulder as I walked through to the back room to find the owner, Ralph. "Wait there," I mouthed to you.
I looked around and was relieved, I guess, not to see anyone I knew.
It looked to be a smart crowd, mainly. Lots of jeans and tees of course, ridiculously short micro skirts, glitzy tops with thin little straps and sequins, blouses undone a button or two too many and tight clothes everywhere; and as for the girls??
"Any chance of a table for two, please Ralph?" I asked standing just a little too close to the forty something owner who I had always quite fancied, but had never yet fucked.
"For you Sammi," he replied staring unashamedly at my tits "Anything. Want it now or later?"
Smiling at the double entendre, I replied. "Oh you know me Ralphie I'm an anytime girl."
"I wish," he quipped back. "Say twenty minutes and you can have the one in the window."
That was the best table, for in addition to the window it was by itself.
"Great luv, thanks," I beamed at him, "I owe you one."
I returned to the bar and found you. "The table'll be twenty minutes," I told you leaning against the bar.
"Great. Here sit on the stool," you said pushing a bar stool towards me.
I smiled. "You are joking aren't you? Sit on a stool in this?" I said looking down at my, barely, crotch covering dress.
"You said you wanted to be a sexual adventurer," you smiled.
"Yes but not where I am known, those adventures need to be my, well our secret."
"Ok I see, but it's not the most challenging adventure in the world to flash those pins to all and sundry is it?"
"Ok" I said smiling and feeling a little excited as I climbed up onto the high stool, my social conditioning taking over as I made sure I didn't flash too much when I crossed my legs.
"Yes very ok," you said moving closer and partially shielding me from most onlookers as, staring right up my skirt, you ran your fingertips slowly from my knee to the hem of the blue dress. Looking into my eyes, you slid your fingertip under the hem for a centimetre or so. I held your gaze. We just stared at each other as you moved your fingertip in tiny circles on my thigh. Your gaze seemed to be asking questions and my mind was answering. Your eyes were saying 'want me to go further?' My mind was saying 'yes I do.' But we both knew that was not possible, well not here, not in The Fleece, not where I knew so many people. But by Christ was my body screaming out for you to shove your hand right up my skirt as I spreaded my legs on that stool so that you could get your fingers into my cunt as everybody looked on. What a fucking buzz that was.
"Your table's ready Sam," I heard Ralph saying as if from afar. It wasn't from afar, though, for he was standing just behind me and was looking intently at your hand on my leg. I beamed a big smile at him and leaned forward as I stood up, the front of the dress gaping a bit.
"Thanks Ralph, by the way this is my uncle Alan. Alan this is the owner of the pub, my good friend Ralph."
A little like two adversaries sizing each other up, you shook hands saying how pleased you were to meet each. Fucking liars, I thought, secretly feeling pleased at the obvious antagonism between you.
"So, I take it you have fucked him." You said very matter of factly after Ralph had taken our orders.
"No I haven't, why did you think I had?"
"The way you get on and how he looks at you."
"We have got near, but never gone very far."
"Would you like to?"
"What fuck him?"
"Yes."
"Not really in the normal course of events, too messy, his wife is close friends with my mum, and he has got a loose mouth."
"What do you mean normal course of events?"
"Life generally."
"Is there an alternative?"
I smiled, again leaning forward so I knew you would see most of my boobs and possibly my, hardened nipples too. "Yes for sexual adventurers there is Alan."
"How do you mean?"
"How about him fucking me as you watch?" I asked my heart starting to pound at the the thought.
+
I wondered whether 'Uncle' was worse than 'Grandad', and decided that I didn't give a fuck. Suddenly, I'd been rocked out of my warm feeling and a sense of irritation splashed across my insides.
Why? I wasn't sure.
Perhaps it was because I'd been introduced as your Uncle? With my hand halfway up your thigh, it was quite clear I was anything but. So why lie? Wouldn't 'this is a good friend of mine' have done instead? Coyness wasn't one of your attributes, so why use the Uncle line?
Okay, it wasn't that important. Unreasonable, maybe. But combined with two other things, it built into something more than it was.
Two other things?
First, I didn't like Ralph. Why? Partly because I don't like cheating. Okay, an old fashioned notion, I know. But there you go. But it wasn't just that, of course. It was because he fancied you and that you fancied him. That was so obvious and easy to see from the way the two of you interacted; actually flirted might be a more apt term. The smiles, the words, the tone, the intonation...
Hell, I suddenly realised I was jealous. Now that was unexpected.
But even those two things were as nothing compared to the third point. When you'd talked about our sexual adventures, I'd assumed that meant exactly that. Sex involving the two of us. I guess a liberal interpretation was that by watching, it did involve me. But that was kinda stretching the imagination.
The man himself made his way back to our table. "Ready to order?" he asked.
Given that he'd only handed us menu's a couple of minutes ago, I thought that was quite a piss take. "No," I spat out, my eyes saying, fuck off.
"Not quite yet, Ralph," you interjected, giving what appeared to me to be a sugar-sweet come on smile.
