As I hold your chair so you can be seated, I cannot help but see down your dress top to the cleavage that is so distracting to me. Of course, you wore the dress intentionally, knowing that it offers me a wondrous view from where I stand high over your shoulders. My six foot three inch height, when combined with your medium stature, often gives me an exciting perspective on your outfits. But I feel at least a little less intrusive when I remind myself of your teasing nature. They are often humorous, the verbal exchanges we have over your teasing of me.
The restaurant we are about to enjoy is warm and comfortable in atmosphere, with small tables and white tablecloths draped halfway to the floor. In fact, I chose this restaurant for its tablecloths. I smiled as I seated you, confirming that your lap was totally shielded from the view of the tables nearby. I planned to use that concealment soon, if things go the way I hoped they would go.
I leaned down and softly kissed your cheek before taking my own seat to your right. We both moved our large white cloth napkins to our laps before picking up our menus. The pretty young hostess took our drink orders and quietly walked away. You studied the menu carefully, but I merely glanced at it. This was one of my favorite restaurants and I already knew what I wanted.
"If you feel like seafood, I recommend the grilled salmon. It comes with a white sauce that is just wonderful," I suggested to you. You politely thanked me and went back to your study of the menu. We both knew you were totally capable of making your own decisions, and that those decisions were usually right. But I just couldn't help myself from offering stereotypical male suggestions.
The drinks arrived, but you scarcely seemed to notice. I had ordered a bottle of Honig Sauvignon Blanc, one of my favorite white wines, and the only place I have found it is this restaurant. You looked up from the menu as the server poured a sample of the Honig in my glass. Without tasting it, I slid the glass over to you. Both she and I politely waited until you tasted the wine. Your smile betrayed your appreciation of the light and fruity wine before you could comment.
"This is wonderful! It is fruity more than it is sweet. I have never tasted anything like it!" Your eyes had lit up like they do when you are pleased with something. It is always a joy to see those eyes when they flash like that.
"I am so glad you like it. I was hoping I wouldn't have to drink the entire bottle by myself." My grin couldn't match your smile, but it was evidence of just as much happiness as the light in your eyes.
You took another sip of the wine from what was now a full glass and studied the menu a few minutes more. When you finally ordered, you asked for the grilled salmon. I tried to not roll my eyes, then ordered the pork loin dinner.
As we chatted about our respective days, you quietly and subtly fussed with and picked at your dress. You had purchased it that afternoon just for tonight. You had wanted a new dress and we went together to pick it out. As you modeled it outside the store dressing room, I had stared and stammered enough to make us both uncomfortable.
"I take it you like it. You haven't said anything for quite some seconds. Quite unusual for you..." Your words broke through my confusion of thoughts.
"Honey, the dress is both elegant and sexy at the same time. It is beautiful!" I almost stammered my response.
And it was truly beautiful. It was a layered skirt with some sort of filmy, see-through material cascading down your hips to just slightly above your knees. Each layer seemed transparent, but because there were multiple layers the result was complete coverage with a hint of what might be. The bodice was the same, with a slightly daring but not improper amount of cleavage showing through the several translucent layers. I could see the color of your bra showing through by a hint of black. You noticed me staring at your chest. I was thinking about what was under the bra, but you thought I was noticing the black shadow.
"Don't worry; with the proper bra, you will never be able to see if I was wearing one or not. Nothing will show through, leaving you with your fantasies." You smiled, almost giggling as you mentioned my fantasies.
"It will turn many heads tonight, only some of them will rest on shoulders." I tried to show an evil gleam in my eyes as I said this, and only partially succeeded.
As I had predicted earlier, there were a number of heads turning as both men and women took notice of your beautiful dress. But you didn't seem to notice because you were busy fussing with your dress.
"Is something wrong, honey? You don't like the dress after all?" I was a little surprised because you had seemed to like the dress earlier today.
"No," you replied. "No, I like the dress just fine. But it is a little more daring than I am used to wearing in public. Depending on how these layers fit across my chest, I can vary the coverage from showing a small amount of cleavage to almost nothing blocking the view."
Before you could finish what you were trying to say, I interrupted. "My vote is on the latter!"
"Men! Always interested on one thing!" You sounded exasperated but your smile said other things.
I grinned back. "I am interested in everything about you. But you are right - I am always interested in that!" You tried to hide your smile, suggesting to me that I had said something right.
When you finally finished fidgeting a few minutes later, the result was almost confusing while wonderfully distracting. It appeared that you were wearing no bra at all, and just the barest hint of the darkness of your nipples was peeking through the translucent material. The effect, at least on me, was a polite cough, as I almost choked on my wine.
"Honey, whatever you have done with it has produced an awesome combination of classy and sexy. You look incredible!" Your smile was my reward, and I subtly reached over with my left hand and gently patted your thigh. That was when I discovered that somehow in all your fussing with the dress, you had hiked your hemline way above your knees. For just a moment, I could hear the blood roar in my ears as my heart skipped a beat and yet my blood pressure soared, both at the same time.
What started as a polite pat on your thigh became a soft squeeze and turned into a gentle caress. And then I left my hand there, enjoying the wonderful feel of your soft and creamy skin. I half expected you to remove my hand, but you did nothing but smile into my eyes. I felt things moving and growing as the blood drained from my big head and traveled south to the little head.
We ordered some appetizers, which was a selection of their famous flatbreads with different toppings. As we waited, I gently stroked your thigh, moving my hand up and down your leg. As I moved up your thigh, I still expected you to remove my hand, and was still thrilled that you did not.
When the appetizers arrived, I left my hand there, feeling the heat emanating from the top of your thighs. I wasn't sure, but it seemed the heat was increasing by the minute. I hadn't touched anything important yet, but you were definitely producing enough heat to indicate I might have.
It was both fun and exciting to have my hand almost in your lap, almost touching your soft parts, almost stroking your pleasure center. Without touching your juices, I could tell you were very wet, and it was causing a reaction in my lap that made me appreciate the concealment of the tablecloth.
As the server came to remove the appetizer dishes, she clearly noticed my arm disappearing under the tablecloth and apparently ending in your lap. She took the time to intentionally smile at you, all but eliminating any embarrassment you might have been feeling. It was at that moment that I moved my hand up the final inch and encountered your wetness. You were so turned on that my fingers were soaked instantly. And I was so turned on because I discovered you weren't wearing any panties. I experienced more heart palpitations as I groaned without intending.
"My dear, is anything wrong?" You asked with an innocent look in your eyes.
"Oh, no, honey. I am just choking on my food, that's all." I was amazed that I was capable of intelligent thought at this point, much less capable of gasping it out. I was so turned on by all this that I felt my head was spinning. I had heard and read about people's heads spinning and never experienced it. I experienced it tonight.
I kept surreptitiously looking down to make sure that no one could really see anything. Even the server couldn't see anything, although she might guess what is going on. And this was what I wanted. We had discussed several times my fantasy about sex in public, and had also discussed my refusal to engage in public sex. Sexual activities where others could not quite see and not quite know, coupled with the possibility of discovery by those same people, is very exciting to me. But engaging in sexual activities in view of others where they can see and comment is not part of my fantasy. Sex is and always will be a private affair between you and me.
And touching you under the table qualified as one of the most intimate and exciting activities I had ever experienced. My hand was visibly shaking as I raised my glass for another sip of wine. You noticed and almost giggled.
