My Sweet Boy The Restaurant

I compose a text -

"Hey my Sweet, you free to come eat lunch with me at Kabo's on your break today? :)"

With a sly smirk, I slide my thumb over to send. As I eagerly await his response, I twirl my necklace, its key to his cock cage nestled in my palm. My entire body tingles in anticipation. I need him to say yes.

You see, almost every night for the past month, I've laid next to him, his cock safe in its cage, and teased him in every way imaginable. One of my favorite things is to have him fuck me with a strap-on, his useless cock straining against its cage. My moans blended with his mixed groans of pain, frustration, and excitement, along with the sloshing of my wetness with each thrust compose my most favorite hymn. My pussy throbs thinking of it.

But I'm not always cruel to my sweet boy. When I do allow him pleasure, I require it to be memorable. I've spent an entire week planning out this afternoon, ensuring all the pieces snap into place *just* right. He is the final piece.

My phone dings. "Sure. 1pm?"

"Sounds perfect! See ya soon ❤️," I reply, only seconds later. Fuck. I can't seem too eager.

I choose a pink floral dress and white sandals to wear. Cute and casual. Unassuming.

There's a knock at the door. I rush to greet four of my newest friends - Layla, Maribel, Suzanne, and Gina.

Layla's in her twenties, a stunning brunette with pale skin and soft green eyes. Her nose and cheeks are painted with constellations of freckles. Loose curls drape over her broad shoulders, accentuating her 300-pound frame. She's wearing a pair of high-rise denim shorts, a tight dusty pink tee carefully tucked in, and white sneakers.

Maribel, a gorgeous, confident Latina in her forties, is around 380 pounds. Dark, luscious, raven-black hair cascades down her back and frames her warm brown eyes. Her thick eyebrows and long eyelashes captivate anyone who looks her way. The silhouette of her fupa is prominently outlined in her aubergine bodycon dress, as she radiates confidence and grace with each sway of her hips.

Suzanne stands as the group's eldest, her age told only by the soft wrinkles gracing her face and arms. Her voluptuous belly is accentuated by the sleek lines of her black dress; each click of her red heels commands attention. Every move she makes is deliberate; she's a natural seductress, and she knows it. Her red lips, slightly parted, and the subtle run in her black pantyhose beckon with subtle invitation. You don't notice her wedding ring until she's completely drawn you in - another display of her strategic plan.

And lastly, there's Gina, an adorable 27-year-old with pin straight red hair, sparkling brown eyes, and thin black-framed glasses. She exudes curiosity and intelligence despite her shy demeanor. Her skinny jeans hug her slightly chubby thighs and belly. She's the thinnest in the group at around 170 pounds. Paired with a white tee, black blazer and flats, a large bow pinned in her hair adds a hint of playfulness. You can't help but to be immediately drawn in to her beauty and mystique.

It took me several months to arrange this perfect group. I of course wanted a group of women I knew he couldn't resist ogling at, but I also wanted a group that meshed effortlessly and complemented each other's similarities and differences. I knew how much a variety in sizes would excite him - simply seeing Goddess Maribel's body next to Goddess Gina's could have him speaking in tongues. As I watch them mingle and smile in our living room, I'm confident my efforts are about to pay off.

I poured us each a glass of champagne. "Hi ladies! Thank you so so much for making this dream come true for us. I'm so fucking excited. You are all so breathtaking," I announced. "So, the plan is that you will all just sit at the table, acting normal. I know we decided on a table versus a booth for you so he could see your bodies better, to see how your perfect assess are too big for the chairs, but if you get uncomfy at any point, we can cut that short and move you to a booth, ok?"

They nodded.

"I'm going to go first to handle a few things. You guys can hang out here and make yourselves at home - meet in a half hour like we discussed. Sound good?"

"Absolutely! Can't wait!!!" Layla exclaimed.

The entire drive, I'm thinking of what might run through his mind when he sees them. I know he'll feel guilty staring at them when I'm right there, and the thought arouses me deeply. Is it cruel that his discomfort fuels me?

At a red light, I slip my hand between my warm thighs, pressing my fingers between my soft, hairy lips. I'm dripping, as I thought. Maybe I should have worn panties after all.

I get to the restaurant before him to speak to the hostess. I had reserved the perfect seating arrangement - We would sit at a booth against the wall, and the Goddesses would sit at a table catty corner to us, behind me, easily in his line of sight. We would be seated first, get our drinks, then the Goddesses would make their grand entrance. She assured me the arrangement was set up as discussed, that both tables were ready, and that she wouldn't mention the reservation in front of him at all.

I sit on a bench outside as I await his arrival. It's a warm spring day. Flowers are in full bloom, the sun is shining, a light breeze in the air. My heart beats faster as I see his truck pull into the parking lot. A grin takes over when he gets out and notices me. I do a cute wave, he smiles, looks right and left for traffic, and walks quickly over. My boy is so sexy to me. a tucked-in white and blue plaid dress shirt, dark jeans, a belt I've whipped him with many times, and dress shoes that have also graced his ass on occasion. He greets me with a passionate kiss before holding the door open for me. "Table for two" I say. The hostess walks us to our table immediately.

We settle in. The waitress takes our drink orders.

"How's your day been? How's your project going?" I ask him. "Alright, same old crap, but I'm wading through. Infinitely more interesting, how's your day going, darling?" "It's going great." He grins so big, staring deep into my eyes. "I'm so glad. What do you have planned for today?" Our waitress breaks the conversation by taking our order. "I'll have the Chicken Parmigiana, and he'll have Spaghetti with Meatballs."

"I'm just letting the day take me where it likes," I reply. He doesn't answer - his gaze is elsewhere. "I bet the meatballs will be bigger than yours," I chuckle. No response. He didn't hear me.

The atmosphere shifts as the Goddesses approach their table, their presence palpable. I sense his excitement and unease as his eyes wander from me to them and back, his discomfort betraying him. He swallows hard and tries to keep his focus on me. "What will you..." his voice trails off. His eyes are glued to them, his mouth agape. I turn around and see Goddesses Maribel and Gina taking a selfie, and I know his eyes are focused on Maribel's upper arm.

"Want me to ask them to join you for lunch instead?" His embarrassment deepened as I caught him in his inadvertent staring. "No, no, no, I'm sorry, I..." he trailed off, lost in their allure again. Suzanne's gaze pierced through him, her expression filled with disgust. He turned beet red, feeling sick under her scrutiny. "Is everything ok?" I ask, knowing the answer.

"Yes, sorry, you know how I get sometimes."

"You're such a fucking pervert," I laughed. I couldn't resist teasing him further. I covertly brushed his cock with my foot under the table, fully aware of the sweet agony he was enduring from his cock straining against his cage.

As our food arrived, he struggled to control his gaze, his attention torn between his meal, me, and the intoxicating presence of Suzanne and her companions. I could tell he was straining his peripheral vision, trying to watch without them knowing - but he failed, and his eyes met Suzanne's once again. She stood up, her every step producing a satisfying click of her heels, sending waves through her luscious body as she approached him. Her palms hit the table with a loud thump. "Can I fucking help you? Do you need something?"

I thought he would faint.

"I'm so sorry. You're just - you - you're s-s-so captivating," he stuttered, his words laced with both admiration, embarrassment, and terror. Suzanne flashed a sly smile and instructed me to keep him in line before returning to her seat.

We sat in total silence as he took slow bites of his food for the next several minutes. Suddenly, the Goddesses all excused themselves to the restroom. The air stirred; their scents intoxicating him as they passed our table.

"Jesus fucking Christ, I'm sorry, A. I can't control myself today. I think I need to go," he pleads when the coast is clear.

"Not quite yet, my Sweet."

"I know you're enjoying this. You're evil sometimes, you know that?"

My ear-to-ear grin answered him.

Upon the Goddesses' return, they orchestrated a fun gesture - Suzanne instructed him to put his hand out, which he did immediately, like an obedient dog. One by one, they placed their warm, slightly wet panties in his hand without a word. He was frozen - sitting in a busy restaurant, palm out, holding four pairs of quite large women's underwear.

"What was that?" I inquired, acting intrigued by the silent exchange. He stared at me in disbelief, his mouth agape, unable to articulate the events that took place before us.

He was still holding the panties in his hand when the Goddesses grabbed their drinks and approached our table once more, sliding into the booth next to us. Their bellies overflowed onto the table. Suzanne pressed her body against his, enveloping him in her warmth and leaving him visibly flustered. After ten seconds, he made a face I would know anywhere - he just came.

With a knowing smile, I winked at him. "It's time for you to get back to work, cutie; we'll see you this evening," Maribel teased, relishing in the tension that lingered between us all.

He knew for certain then that I'd planned it all.

As we bid the Goddesses farewell, I couldn't help but revel in the moment, both of us eagerly anticipating what the evening would bring.

I couldn't wait.