"I've had a naughty sex dream about you," she said, relishing the look of shock and dawning of arousal in his eyes.
He shifted in the hard wooden chair and discreetly adjusted his crotch below the tablecloth. He opened and closed his lips as he sought to reorganize his scattered thoughts.
"Me? What was it about?" he leaned forward slightly and his breath seemed suspended in his chest.
She licked her lips and smiled, knowing his eyes were riveted on her mouth. She knew he wanted to taste her tongue, her lips...and more. Her body drifted toward the rigid backrest as she relished being the center of his world at that moment.
"I dreamt that I took you to one of those nasty hotels downtown near the strip clubs. While we walk to our room, the prostitutes standing outside are propositioning us. One of them is almost pretty, except for the scar on her shoulder. It's jagged like she stitched it herself with a quilting needle. I drag you into a dark room, it smells musty and a little like sex, as if the maids just remade the bed instead of changing the sheets after the last occupants. You are kind of in a daze, as though you aren't quite sure what's happening and you're just following along.
"I shove you into a chair near the wall and straddle you. I push the chair back until it's balancing on the back two legs and your head and shoulders are pressed against the wall near the window. A thin sliver of light dissects your face, and makes one of your eyes shine I grab your wrists and hold them against the wall. You could probably break my hold, but by now you're not sure how far I'm going to go.
"So you let me hold you captive. I lean toward you, pressing you into the chair and into the wall. My body is plastered to yours starting at the point where the seams of our crotches rub daringly, to our chests, pushing together with every breath. I lean so close, your wrists clasped in my hands, my breath puffing against your lips. You wait for me to kiss you, but I tease and pull away a fraction of an inch.
"You growl your frustration as I smile my naughty smile. I lean in and lick your lips with the very tip of my tongue. You open your mouth and try to capture my tongue, but I pull it back quickly, only to lick again when you retreat. I play this game for a while, until I want to take your mouth."
She watched his eyes widened when she paused in her story. His breathing had definitely increased. The restaurant around them seemed oblivious to the sexual tension at the small table in the corner.
"Is that when you woke up?" He asked. It was obvious he was hoping her story would continue. She watched again as he reached below the tablecloth. It lingered a little longer this time.
"No, that is when I begin to kiss you. Really kiss you. With all of the heat that I had been denying...with all of the passion I've held down, away from you and from us. My tongue pushes into your mouth for you to suck and nibble. My arms are getting tired holding you down so I abruptly step back and the chair thunks to the ground. I grab your shirtfront and pull you to your feet. I lean close and tell you that you are dirty and need to be washed.
"I pull you into the small bathroom; it's dark and smells like mildew. The seedy dirtiness of this place turns me on. The light sputters into life with loud fluorescent hums and clicks. The room is entirely white, or it used to be. There are black moldy stains growing on the peeling caulking, and there are several hooks missing at the top of the shower curtain.
"I lean over and turn on the shower. Steam suddenly clouds the small room. You start to take off your shirt, but I stop you by pulling you with me into the shower. I kick off my shoes, and we both giggle as one lands with a wet plop in the toilet.
"We are both getting soaked through in our clothes. My white button-down shirt becomes translucent and it's obvious I'm not wearing a bra. Your eyes slide down and stare at my tits, watching as my nipples harden in reaction to your gaze. I can see your hands reach up to touch me, but I grab them and tell you, 'No.'
"Instead I pull off your very wet shirt, and lick the water from your chest. You lean back against the cold tile wall and I press against you. I slide my leg between yours; the wet denim we are wearing slows our movements to a sluggish pace.
"I feel how hard you are now. The heat from the water and our bodies has made our clothes steam, but I feel like its all coming from between my legs. I know I'm now as wet inside as I am on the outside. I unbutton the sodden shirt and let its weight pull it slightly open. My cleavage and half of my breasts are bared. Rivers of water run between them, altering its course with every breath like its trying to reach as much of my flesh as it can.
"I step out of my shoes and throw them across the room. One lands in the open toilet and you laugh until I sink to my knees in front of you and place my mouth on your cock. I suck the water out of the denim that is hugging you so tightly. You stop laughing and start moaning.
"I feel your hand start to touch my hair and I pull away suddenly, leaning farther down to remove your shoes. The water is pummeling me from above. The weight of the fluid has pulled the shirt down from one of my shoulders and one of my breasts has escaped its confines. You watch as I rub and play with it for a minute.
"I love watching your eyes as I touch myself. They are greedy and hungry and naked. I pull the shirt off completely and throw it out of the shower. It lands with a wet slap on the warped linoleum floor. I grab your shoulders and pull you close so I can kiss you and rub my wet, warm, bare breasts against you. The feel of your coarse chest hair against my nipples sends heat waves directly down to my thighs.
"I finally let you touch my tits, but I don't surrender your mouth, I need to kiss you, to feel your tongue and lips and teeth. Your hands are strong and they hold me firmly. You are definitely a man in need. I can smell you. You smell of desire and heat. Your fingers toy with my nipples, teasing and playing until they ache for your mouth. I guide your head to them. I push your face into my cleavage, smothering you in my flesh and the water."
She paused again in her recitation. The waiter was approaching from behind him.
"Do I put your nipples in my mouth?" He blurted out.
His hand had once again disappeared under the tablecloth and hadn't resurfaced for quite a while. The waiter placed their food on the table. The waiter's face was flushed and his eyes danced away from hers. She smiled. He had heard the question and didn't know whether he was embarrassed, disgusted or aroused.
Her dinner partner was oblivious to the waiter's existence. All he wanted was to hear her voice. He wanted to continue to see her dream in his own mind. She held his eyes while the waiter bustled around them. With a devilish smile she requested the fresh ground pepper and Parmesan cheese the waiter offered. Her companion impatiently fiddled with his plate, silently willing the waiter to hurry up and leave them alone.
But she was not as obliging as that. Even after the server had hurried away in with flushed unease, she was silent.
She picked up her fork and swirled some pasta onto it. The buttery cream sauce coated her lips with a clear sheen as she chewed slowly, staring into his eyes. He was ignoring his food. His tie was practically bathing in the marinara sauce on his plate because he was leaning across the table, silently willing her to continue.
