Touche 2

I was just sitting there with my date at a café in Ravello, Italy at an outside table near the street when my neighbor walked up with her husband and went inside. She saw me. She ignored me. She certainly would. We had never met, as far as her husband knew.

I watched them enter and then they were led off to a table inside.

Apparently, they didn't like the table they were offered. They came out and sat at a table not far from us, a few tables away.

I had met her husband once, briefly, when a waterline in their yard broke and was flooding my yard. He was nice. We didn't chat much. I doubt he recognized me here. He was seated with his back to me. But Petra was in a position to clearly see me. They ordered.

It had been months since I had last seen Petra. Our windows in our homes between our two houses faced one another, just feet apart. On a few occasions, we had exchanged sexual niceties with one another across the air gap. It was visual only. Very discreet but full display. We had both gotten off. I once shot a rope of cum across the gap and maybe hit her house. It was a real turn on. The occasional rendezvous died off over the winter. The storm shutters on both of our houses rolled down for the season closed the communication channel.

I missed our rendezvous though. Petra was gorgeous. And today she is looking lovely too.

I'm sure to not look at her. I don't want to make her uncomfortable. And perhaps I am wrong. Maybe she does not see me sitting here just 10 feet away.

The waiter is running around between the street side tables. I reel through memories of Petra as my date is discussing some work-related issue. Turning my wine glass in my hand. When the waiter walks by, I raise the glass slightly in Petra's direction and tip it towards her. A subtle acknowledgement to her presence. The tipped glass is revealed to her after the waiter passes- if she happened to be watching.

We had just opened our wine when they arrived. I sat back and focused on my date. We worked through the antipasti and a delicious branzino. I force myself to not drift a look at Petra directly.

But from the periphery of my vision, I can see her smile, her animated movements at times, her legs shift under her table in black stockings. Sometimes, I catch snippets of their conversation. But, they speak in a language I don't understand, maybe Arabic. She seems to be having a nice time.

I enjoyed this situation for what it was - an opportunity to see her. My lovely window muse carrying out her normal life. She was giggling now. She put her hand over her mouth. She's cute. About 36. Middle eastern looking. Dark, luxurious hair made up on top of her head, elegantly. She dresses well. Tonight, she's in a black dress, fashionable white shoulder top, black stockings, black heels. She's drinking a martini. Three olives.

I noted at one point that she was gone from the table. I caught her walking back to her table. As she sat down, I hazarded a brief glance at her legs. Gorgeous legs. She slid back into her chair. It was one of those overstuffed upholstered cushion chairs, covered in blue velvet. She sat down and arranged herself.

She pointed her knees in my direction. The next time the waiter passed, revealed that she had spread her legs slightly. I can see up her dress now. Just barely. Thigh high stockings.

I tried not to read into it. Was it a subtle toast back to me? She kept opening and closing her knees ever so slightly. She was fidgeting with her wine glass like I had seen her do before, at the neighborhood gathering, where I had first learned her name.

Her hem line hiked up a little higher over the next fifteen minutes. I was over her right thigh now. My nuts were beginning to gallop in my slacks.

After a bit, I placed my right hand down on the table, arranging my fingers around the stem of my glass. I spread my fingers in a way that could be construed as - spread your legs more. I spread my fingers apart wide, repeating the motion. To anyone else, it was not an overt hand gesture.

Petra got the message. A moment or so later, in one smooth elegant motion, she sat up straight in her chair and leaned back and spread her legs wide for maybe two or three seconds. I took a good hard look. Raw pussy. No panties. I took her in fully and then returned my attention. She had put her legs back together.

Touché! She had seen me after all.

Beautiful pussy. Dark, trimmed patch. She had spread her legs wide enough so that I could see her labia poking through. She was turned on.

And so was I. My cock was talking to me. I had to rearrange myself. I stood up briefly, adjusted and sat back down. My date blinked, confused.

But the show was over. Petra turned, pointing her knees back in the right direction under the table and leaned forward on her elbows. Her breasts were apparent but covered.

Our dinner was wrapping up. I called for the check. I ask the waiter to have it ready for me at the bar with two shots of grappa for my date and me before the walk home. I excused myself to the restroom to wash up.

The sink at this café was one of those that is communal. The individual toilets are private, but the washup area has several spigots at one large stylish sink. I washed up and stood momentarily, waiting for my cock to subside.

And then, there she was! Black stockings in heels tap dancing down the steps. I knew it was her feet before I saw the rest of her appear.

We were separated from the busy restaurant. It was a several steps down a hall past the kitchen and then down two short flights of steps to access the restrooms.

She reached the bottom of the steps, glanced at me and then scanned the rest of the space. We were alone. She looked briefly up the steps. And then, she stepped forward and reached out for my cock in my slacks. She took me in hand and looked me directly in the eye for the first time that evening.

I stood there waiting for what she would do next. I thought of slamming a finger up her cunt, but I let that go. Instead, I just inhaled. I sucked in her presence before me.

Her face was flushed. She set her lower jaw forward. It made her look dangerous. I didn't blink. She shifted her eyes down at my chest. She spoke to my chest.

She said softly, "I want you to cum on my tits. Figure out a way James!"

She shifted to look back to my eyes. She pursed her lips and her pink tongue emerged briefly between them. I perceived the smallest of smile. Her brown eyes twinkled. Maybe she was drunk.

And with that, she turned on the ball of her foot and proceeded back up the steps and was gone.

The entire encounter lasted only 20 seconds. I will never forget those 20 seconds.

I found her panties in my sport coat pocket during the walk home.

End