We meet up at a restaurant. We are both with our friends. We decide to join parties, and do the typical introductions. I sit next to you and am in a very good mood and decide to test out this theory of mine about men in public places. Everyone is chatting, we order, and I place my hand on your upper thigh. You give me this odd look "like what the hell". I only give you an evil grin back. I lean over and remind you of the conversation that we once had about public places and have decided to test you out a bit.
My hand slides further up, not quite touching you but close enough to let you know that I am serious. Again you give me a look, not quite knowing what to expect from a devilish redhead. The appetizers come along and I remove my hand to eat. But as soon as I have had my share, I replace it further up, covering you and feeling that you are hard. That is all I need to know that you are up for the game.
Everyone is chatting, as well as us, joining in the conversation and trying to make it seem like all is well. By this point I have unbuttoned the top button of your pants and am slowly rubbing you through your pants, letting you know that I am serious about this game and not just a tease. The main dish comes and I again remove my hand, though now the zipper is a bit lower. You try to pull it back up, but I remove your hand and glare. There is no way you are getting out of this now.
We casually eat, talk and every now and again I slip my hand beneath the table and make sure you are still hanging in there and every time I do I lower the zipper a little bit more. About halfway through dinner it is down all the way and I start to touch you through the fabric of your boxers. I lean over and tell you to move your chair closer to the table. As you do so I reach over and carefully move your boxers down so that you are fully exposed. I touch you gently, just enough to feel your heat. In the meantime I make sure to keep up with the conversation and make it seem as if nothing is going on
I remove my hand from you after gently touching you and go back to eating. The look is priceless. The waiter comes back and takes the dishes after we are through and I convince everyone that we need to have some desert. While we wait for the waiter to come back with the menus, I slip my hand beneath the table and take you in my hand, just to hold. I donโt make and movement. I just want to feel that you are very warm and still very hard. I look over and smile quite happy with the results.
I slowly start to stroke you, trying to keep my arm movements to a minimum so that those sitting next to me cannot to see what is going on between us. The waiter comes back to take everyoneโs orders and I continue to slowly stroke you. I watch your face, seeing that you are trying to keep it normal. I don't stop when the waiter comes up next to us to get our orders but rather start to move a bit faster. The waiter looks down, catching the motion out of the corner of his eye, and he asks us what we want for desert. I order as if nothing is happening, though it is obvious the waiter has picked up that something is going on. You order after a slight delay, trying to compose yourself. The waiter writes it down and smiles at you. When he walks away I slow down the pace again but never let you out of my grasp.