Sensual Indulgence

We are directed to the rear of the restaurant, away from the kitchen and entryway. The area is very dimly lit. As we are seated, a small single taper in the center of the table is lit by the hostess. The booth is quite large and semi-circular in shape. You slide in first and move around to the middle of the seat. I move in next to you with you on my right. The seat is padded and the covering is very soft to the touch. Almost a feeling of felt, but softer. The seat back is inclined to allow a more relaxed sitting position, if desired. The table top is made of a deep blue marble that does little to reflect the light of the single flame on its surface.

The waitress approaches and asks if we would like to start with drinks. We glance at each other and then you order a bottle of Riesling from the cellars. The waitress turns and leaves to get the wine. As she walks away, she literally disappears into the darkness. There is not enough light to see much past the far edge of the table. We investigate further and realize that we can not see anything really. No other tables or guests. No other lights or movements. The atmosphere of the restaurant demands a softness of voice, so there is very little sound that comes through the darkness. It is like we are completely alone, although we know we are in a room filled with people.

I lean over and whisper in your ear, "If we look up, would you expect to see stars?"

You reply, "It does feel like we are that isolated and alone, doesn't it?"

"Isolated maybe," I say, "but hardly alone." I place my mouth on your full lips. A very gentle but extremely electric kiss as I place my right hand on your left forearm and you lay your right hand against my left cheek. Your touch is so special. You break the spell when you realize the waitress is standing across the table opening the bottle of wine.

She pours a small amount into a glass and hands it to you. You taste the wine and with your approval the waitress pours two new glasses from the bottle and places them on the table in front of us. Next, the waitress asks if we would like to see the menu or if we are ready to order. I ask if you mind me ordering for us. Smiling, and with an inquisitive look on your face, you readily agree and I place the order with the waitress. After finishing, I return my gaze to you and you continue to look at me, wondering what I have just done.

"Trust me," I say with a big smile on my face.

You respond saying, "You know I do." The waitress turns and again disappears into the darkness, not more than five feet beyond the far edge of the table. Again, we seem to be alone, together. The soft glow from the candle is barely enough to illuminate your face and shoulders.

Everything below the top of the table is hidden by the shadows and lack of light. Even the outline of your black dress above the table line is difficult to discern from the surrounds. Oddly enough, your lips seem to be the most successful at attracting the light from the flame. I suspect that you have equal difficulty seeing me, being all dressed in black as well.

"You trust me?" I pose as a question this time.

To which you respond, "Of course I do."

"How much do you trust me?" I ask. I continue, "Do you trust me with your secrets, your thoughts, your body, and your life?"

"There is nothing I do not trust you with," you say.

"Then you are in for quite a night," I reply. And with that, I remove the black silk scarf from the inside pocket of the tux and fold it in half long-ways. I fold it again in the same direction. Again I continue, "Will you do anything I ask of you?"

"Anything," you whisper and then giggle.

I smile and hand you the scarf saying, "I want you to tie this over your eyes. Do you understand?"

"Yes," you reply, again in a whisper.

As you finish tying the scarf, the waitress brings the trays of food. She smiles seeing the blindfold covering your eyes. "Shall I set this up for ease of your reach sir?" she asks me.

"That would seem appropriate," I respond, exchanging smiles. I turn toward you in the seat. The waitress lights two additional tapers to aid in the identification of the food. The additional light does little to push back the darkness into the restaurant and again the waitress disappears quickly as she leaves us to each other and the food. I turn back to you and whisper in your ear, "I would love to feed you. You must be starving after the day you have had. Will you allow me to do this? And furthermore, is this something that you would like for me to do? Please be completely honest."

"Yes," you say. "Yes to both questions."

"Good," I continue. "There are a few rules you must follow. First, you must not use your hands to help you eat or drink. You can use them for anything else provided that you ask first. Otherwise, they should be placed on the seat next to you at all times. Next, I want you to be completely comfortable, but I want you facing me. However you want to make that happen is fine with me. If at any point, any part of this makes you uncomfortable you must tell me. Nothing about this is meant or desired to make you feel anything but physically satisfied and aroused. Does this still appeal to you?"

"Yes," you say.

"Excellent, please face me and make yourself comfortable," I whisper with a smile.

You rock onto your left hip and draw both legs up under your ass as you pivot on the seat to face me. You are now sitting, more or less on your left hip and your left calf. You seem to support yourself with your left arm and you place your right hand on the seat at your side. "You listen very well," I comment. You smile as I place my right hand close to your face to verify that you really can not see. I drop my hand and slide the pads of two fingertips across your chest, just above the top of your dress. Your skin is very soft and slightly cool. I remove my hand and raise it to the blindfold. I gently place a finger on the scarf above each of your eyes. You flinch slightly as you feel the pressure on the scarf. I slowly slide the fingers down and off the scarf, along the left side of your nose, down to your lips. I let the fingers drag more heavily across your bottom lip and you open your mouth. Such an inviting gesture. You seem to be poised, waiting for whatever comes next. I run my thumb along your bottom lip, gently back and forth. You continue holding your mouth open and you attempt to draw my thumb into your mouth with each pass. You seem to enjoy this as much as I. Reluctantly, I trace your lip one last time before breaking the contact between us.

The waitress has covered over half of the table with a variety of food. There are breads, cheeses, meats, seafood, pastas, fruits and desserts. All cut or fixed into bite size pieces. I grab several green grapes from the trays of fruit. I place one of the grapes against your left cheek. Your mouth opens as you turn your head toward the cool sensation on your skin. The grape rolls under my fingertips until it meets your lips. Smiling, you gently hold the grape between your lips before slowly sucking it into your mouth. I place another on your top lip. You tilt your head backwards and attempt to suck the grape out of my fingers. Since I refuse to let go of the grape, you take it between your teeth and bite it in two. Some of the juices run down your chin. I crush the remaining half of the grape between my fingers while holding it over your lips. More juice runs down your chin.

I continue feeding you grapes, strawberries, watermelon, cantaloupe, and kiwi. I position most of the fruit so that you are forced to raise your head slightly, and I generally make you take bites from the fruit regardless of the small portions. This causes even more juices to run down your chin and the position of your head causes the juices to begin to trace its way down your neck as well. The light from the candles reflect off the trail of juices that extends from around your lips to within a few inches of your black choker. I offer you a drink of wine and you slowly and carefully drink from the crystal stem. I place the glass back on the table and place my left hand on your right hip. I lean to you and place my lips on the area where the juices have stopped on your neck. Very gently and even more slowly I suck and kiss and lick my way up your neck, across the underside of your chin, around the curve of your chin, through the indention below your lips, and finally place my lips directly on yours. Without using your hands, you return the kiss with a fire and passion like I have never experienced. It is like I have you tied down and you are straining every muscle in your incredible body trying to kiss me harder and deeper and, at the same time, with more tenderness. You seem very excited and turned on by the entire situation.

I place my right hand on your left hip and move my left hand to your left thigh, just below the hem of your dress. We continue to kiss, more gently and deliberately, as I slowly slide my hand across the silky stockings and up under your dress. At the top of your stockings, I hesitate. They feel so good against my skin, and yours. I slip my second and middle fingers over the top of the stockings and between the sheer material and your thigh. Your bare thigh. I do not know which is luckier. The stocking for being on your leg, or your leg for being wrapped in the incredible material of the stocking. I contemplate this for a moment before moving my hand farther up on your thigh, past the stocking. I slide closer to you on the seat and continue tracing the naked flesh of your thigh until my fingers brush against the material of your panties. You remove your mouth from mine and let out a low moan.

Without moving your hands you lean past me and whisper in my ear, "I don't know if I care to eat anymore. I need you so bad."

I love it when you are so much into wanting me and needing me. "You really need to eat," I tease and continue. "Besides, I thought you would enjoy me feeding you like this."

"I am enjoying this," you continue to whisper, "very, very much. I want you to continue to feed me, and touch me. May I change positions so I can be more comfortable?" Reluctantly, I slide my hand out from under your dress and ask you to make yourself more comfortable.

You swing your legs out from under you and allow them to slide off the seat and under the table. The lack of light makes it unclear what you are doing but you quickly draw both legs back underneath you and turn to face me. You seem to be sitting directly on both of your calves and your knees. I suspect that you have taken off your heels to make this position easier but find it difficult to understand or believe that this position is any more comfortable than the first. You adjust your position so that your knees are against my right shin, which is lying on the seat between us. I place my hands just above each of your stocking covered knees to verify for myself how you are seated. My assumptions were correct in all aspects except that your knees and legs are parted slightly. As I trace your legs from your knees to your feet, I can tell that your bare ass is sitting on your ankles and your dress spills out around you on the seat.

"Please continue what you were doing to me," you seem to beg. Ignoring that we were involved in some passionate kissing and heavy petting before you switched positions, I again resume picking out morsels of food and placing them to your lips. You seem to savor the pieces of bread and the different sauces that I dip them in before presenting them to you. With my left hand, I begin to give you different combinations of cheeses and crackers and breads and meats. With my right hand, I raise the bottom of your dress and quickly slide my hand up along your right inner thigh to the top of your stockings. You take a short quick breath, as if not expecting me to move so quickly and then a smile appears on your lips. I raise the glass of wine to your lips and continue moving my right hand up your bare thigh. Your thigh is very wet. Your panties must be soaked. A tremor passes through your body as my fingertips caress the naked flesh of your thigh. Apparently concerned that the shaking will cause me to pour the wine on you, you ask if you may hold the glass of wine. I agree and you take the glass from me using both hands. You continue to drink slowly from the glass as I move my hand so that I place my index and fourth fingers on either side of your pussy. To my shock and surprise, my fingers rest on bare moist skin. You took your g-string off, as well as your heels, when you were adjusting positions. You must have had your panties on over your garters.

You remove the glass from your lips and a large smile spreads across your face. You whisper, "This position is much more comfortable. And you thought you were in control here, didn't you?" Before I can respond, you spread your knees a few inches farther apart, reach out and carefully set the glass on the table and say, "Aren't you going to continue to feed me?" I am completely stunned. I am sitting here with a blindfold on the most beautiful lady in the world. I am giving very erotic physical contact and pleasure to this goddess and yet I am the one sitting here with my mouth hanging open. And you, totally in control. In sort of a trance, and not even realizing that I never responded to you, I reach for more food. As I offer you a small bite of bread covered with a garlic butter sauce and topped with parmesan cheese, I press the middle finger of my right hand between your labia. Your legs are spread just enough to allow access to your beautiful body. You moan very softly as I move my finger from side to side, pressing your lips first against one leg and then the other. As my finger moves back and forth, it gently brushes across the top of your clitoris. You are so wet. It is very erotic watching you eat while watching you enjoy the pleasure that my touch is creating for you.

The waitress appears and asks if everything meets with out approval. You get very sober at the sound of her voice. I tell her that everything is very good and knowing that she can not see below the top edge of the table, I slowly slide my finger up inside your warm body. You let out a very soft gasp as the rest of my hand prevents me from entering you farther. "How about you Miss?" the waitress asks as she begins to refill your glass. I cover you labia with the palm of my hand, and begin moving my middle finger in and out of you.

You turn your head toward the sound of the waitress and with the most beautiful, normal smile say, "Everything is coming along very well; the food is wonderful." Such composure with respect to expression, voice, and content.

"Very well," the waitress says and once again leaves us to each other.

"She's gone," I tell you, and immediately your expression drops to one of intense pleasure.

I begin to realize that something about you feels different than earlier in the day. I slowly withdraw my finger from your soft, hot inner depths and run my fingers across your labia and up to your tummy. The pads of my fingers contact skin the entire way and never run through the patch of hair that had been there earlier. No wonder you wanted me out of the bathroom. All that remains is bare, naked, soft skin. Again, I look to your face and am greeted with a wide grin.

"You like?" you ask.

"Of course," I respond, barely able to contain my excitement. I continue, "Do you have any idea what my tongue will feel like snaking across the bare flesh between your legs?" I knowing that you do not know what that will feel like, but hope that your imagination will be sufficient until the opportunity presents itself. As I ask this question, the smile on your face fades into an expression of awe. You are now the one whose mouth is hanging open.

Thinking that I have regained control of the situation, you lean towards me and say, "Can I ask you a question?" As you lean forward, I slide my hand back down across your shaven pussy and easily slip my second and middle fingers deep inside you.

"You may ask anything of me," I respond.

"I'd like to use my hands," you continue.

"Of course you may use your hands," I say continuing to move my fingers around inside of you and pressing against you clit with my palm. With that, you gently place your left hand on the back of my neck and pull me in for a very soft sweet kiss. Your right hand finds my left and you open my hand and place something in it. You move your mouth to my left ear and take the ear lobe between your teeth and bite down… hard.

When you let go with your teeth, you ever so lightly suck on the lobe and then whisper, "Would you mind holding this for me? I don't think I will need it again tonight." Finally realizing that I am holding your g-string in my hand almost puts me over the edge. Ever since entering the restaurant, or leaving the hotel for that matter, I have been hard. It has been very difficult keeping my hands off of you, obviously. But now I am so hot and hard that it is uncomfortable.

I recognize that I have lost any bit of control that I have regained of the situation. I begin to doubt that I ever had any control of the situation. You seem to have had me under your spell the whole time with your mere presence and little revelations. "Oh my God," is all I can manage as a response to your question.

"Why don't we finish up and get out of here?" you ask. I lay the g-string in my lap and with my left hand, reach around and untie the blindfold. As the blindfold falls, I slowly ease my fingers out of you. I run both fingers forward between your lips and quickly run them back and forth across your clit several times. You close your eyes and tilt your head back.

"I can't wait to get my tongue on that," I whisper to you. You let out a low moan and I slowly remove my hand from between your legs. I continue, "The thought of being out with you tonight, with you wearing what you are, and aren't, is driving me crazy. You know that don't you?"

Your eyes lock on mine and you smile saying, "You can't possibly be enjoying this half as much as I am." You lean back and take my right hand in your left.

We continue to talk and drink and pick through the food and enjoy looking at one another. The waitress returns to see how things are and to thank us for coming in. She wishes us a good evening and disappears into the darkness. Having arranged payment for the meal in advance, we finish off the bottle of wine and slide out of the booth. I put the g-string in my jacket pocket and marvel at the idea of you walking around without it on. We pass through the restaurant full of people who are apparently oblivious to the experience we have just shared. As we exit the restaurant, we find ourselves in the mild Chicago night air. The chauffeur pulls the limousine up to the doorway and we step out to meet it, hand in hand.