The Dinner Date

I arrive at the restaurant a few minutes late, as usual. It's a romantic little old-world-style Italian restaurant that I've promised you has excellent Chicken Marsala. It's a little schmaltzy and over-the-top with stuccoed walls, red and white checkered table linens, and heavy dripping candle tapers flickering in old silver candelabras. The cliché, but smooth crooning of Sinatra emanates from speakers somewhere out of site. The sound of laughter and conversation pours like a wave from the open door.

I'm wearing a simple sleeveless, black dress, cut just above my knees. My hair is pinned up in a loose twist with a few errant tendrils that have escaped in the breeze. I have little jewelry on, just a simple ruby solitaire draped from a silvery white gold necklace and smaller matching ruby drop earrings in each ear. I spot you in the crowded vestibule as you smile and take me in completely, ending at my cranberry painted toes peeking out of the little black fuck-me pumps and making your way back up past the delicate ankle straps of my shoes to my bare legs. I lean in and buss you softly on the lips, returning your smile. You pull me tightly to you in a hug and I press my lips close to your ear and whisper my apologies for making you wait. Your hand slides casually down to cup my ass as we pull away. I giggle softly as you smile at the leering old man who was watching it all and his wife, who clucks her disapproval.

Your scent lingers close to my nose for a moment, god I love the way you smell, and I take a moment to admire you in the remainder of your work clothes. The suit jacket is gone, the tie abandoned, and you've unbuttoned the top two buttons of your blue shirt that make your eyes sparkle like the deepest of sapphires. You look at me with that impish smile that tells me you're in the mood to play and I smile back with the devilish look that tells you the game is on.

I grab your hand, giving it a squeeze and lead you into the dim, crowded bar to have a drink while we wait for our table. We slip into two empty seats and order drinks from the bartender, a vodka martini for me and a beer for you. We slowly sip our drinks, letting all the stresses melt away with the slow burning warmth of the alcohol and talk casually about our day. Then you ask me your favorite question; you want to know which panties I have on under my dress. I take a slow sip of my drink, smiling coyly as I pull the glass away from my lips and tell you that you'll have to find out for yourself. You cackle softly with laughter and tell me that you fully intend to find out...now.

You slide your hand up my thigh, creeping up my dress. I giggle softly under my breath, letting your fingers nearly wisp the edge of my panties before catching your hand in mine and interlacing my fingers with yours. I pull your hand up to my lips, kissing each of your fingertips, playfully. But you are not so easily dissuaded. You hook your foot around my calf, swiveling me in my seat so I am facing you and pull my legs apart. You pull your hand from mine and lean in to kiss me, draping your arm around my waist as your other hand snakes up my leg, shielded from view by your arm. You slide your finger along the lacy edge of my panties and stroke the smooth skin beneath before slipping one finger inside me. You press your lips near my ear and whisper, "Lace...nice."

I kiss your ear and whisper, " But you still don't know what color." Then I giggle softly in your ear and catch your earlobe in my teeth as you pull away. You slide your finger out of me, looking into my eyes with your smoldering gaze, and lift it to your lips to taste. The pager, indicating our table is ready, begins to vibrate on the mahogany bar top, interrupting the moment. I quickly stand and straighten my dress, which has twisted askew and begin to walk to the hostess station. You wrap your arm around my middle, grazing your hand along my breast and kissing the curve of my neck. Shivers run down my spine as your lips linger momentarily before you release me to continue walking.

We slide into our table, a small "U" shaped booth facing out from the wall, near the large fire hearth in the main dining room. We go through the wine selection ritual and order our dinner. You smile mischievously and point out to me that we have the prime table to be seen by all. I smirk slightly, knowing you will take full advantage of this. "For instance, if I were to do...this..," you tease softly, as you slide your hand up my thigh beneath the table cloth, "You wouldn't be able to react. Anyone who happened to be looking would know we were doing."

I giggle softly as your hand slides farther up my leg, pushing my panties aside burying your fingers into my already wet pussy. I sigh softly and close my eyes as you slowly circle my clit. You remind me that no one can know what we're doing and I do my best to compose myself. I try my best to sip at the wine, but my hips won't be stilled. I grind slowly against your hand as you torment me. Clearly, anyone who chose to be perceptive would know by the look on my face what was going on, but I'm quiet, letting only the occasional soft sigh escape my lips. My eyes close and my breathing gets ragged and you remind me to keep it together, but you know I'm close to cumming. You slip two fingers inside of me, continuing your assault on my clit with your thumb. I squeeze your leg tightly, close my eyes and lean my head back against the booth as the orgasm waves through me. Our waiter arrives, as I'm composing myself with a puzzled look on his face, and you smile at him as he drops the food on our table and makes a hasty exit. We quickly eat and when the waiter offers dessert you smirk and tell him you have dessert planned at home. He blushes and fumbles nervously as we settle up.

We leave the restaurant and walk down the street window shopping and listening to the street musicians. Teasing and nuzzling each other into a frenzy. As we walk, I pull you into a dark alley pressing you into the shadow of the tall building. I fumble with your fly and you protest, but I insist, as I drop to my knees on the ancient brick-lined road and take your cock slowly into my mouth, savoring your taste. A low guttural moan escapes your throat as my lips and tongue torment you, fucking you with my mouth, until you can't take it any longer. You pull me up, kissing me roughly and push me back against the brick wall. I wrap my legs around you as you enter me and I use the wall to leverage myself so I can grind with you as you drive in and out of me. My hair comes loose and splays wildly around my shoulders. We kiss frantically, hard and wet; at this point we don't even care how much noise we are making or who hears us or discovers us. We are so lost in the moment that there is nothing around us but each other. I whisper in your ear how good you feel inside me. I squeeze my arms around you tightly as I cum again, causing you to cum. We slide down the wall for a few moments recovering and kissing, before straightening our clothes and walking toward where we've parked to head home for dessert.

Before you close the door to my car, you stop and laugh. I ask you what's funny. And you say, "Y'know...I still don't know what color your panties are!" I laugh and tell you to meet me at home to find out.