Writing this lying next to you, after you loved me so well this evening. My blood still runs hot.
I wonder if you know how you turn me on, or how much time I spend fantasizing about making love to you, in every way. Tonight, I thought I would share one of my favorites.
We are having dinner in that cozy, romantic bistro, a booth in the back -- good wine, (oysters), good food. I am wearing a very short black skirt, five inch black patent pumps, no stockings. Through my sheer black sweater you can just make out my nipples over my lace, push-up half bra. They are hard. You recognize that look in my eyes, so you decide to play with me a bit.
As you feed me an oyster with your fingers, you whisper to me to take off my panties. I rise to go to the ladies room, but your hand is firm on my arm. "No. Here."
I blush hotly, but you can tell I am turned on because the blush colors my cleavage as far as you can see. I steal a glance to make sure no one is looking, and quickly slide my damp thong down my legs. You hold out your hand for the flimsy bit of lace, and quickly pass it under your nose before pocketing the panties.
I am visibly squirming now as you feed me another oyster, pushing your fingers into my mouth for me to suckle as you do. When you remove your fingers, you reach for my nipple and pinch it through my top, making it harder still. You take my hand and guide it to your crotch. I feel you, hot and hard, though your jeans. I continue to stroke you as you feed me another oyster and your hands play over my stiff nipples.
You pull back just as the waiter arrives with the check, but his knowing look says we aren't hiding anything. He stares at my nearly-visible nipples and gives you an envious, approving smile.
The check is in hand. I move to stand. Again, you stop me with your hand. You whisper your request in my ear. Of course, I can refuse you nothing. While you watch from your excellent vantage point, I slide my skirt up my thighs until my ass is bare against the vinyl seat. I meet your gaze to gauge your intent, and you nod for me to continue.
I reach one hand between my open thighs and slide it high until I can feel my heat. Breathing rapidly now, I slip two fingers into my sopping pussy and let out a moan you recognize well.
All the while, you are looking into my eyes. "That's it, Baby," you encourage me, "Get your fingers wet. Now, let me taste you." I reluctantly pull my hand from my slippery slit and bring my fingers to your mouth. You inhale deeply of my musky scent and lick my fingers clean.
Giving my nipples another tweak, you lead me toward the door. My skirt is still hiked near my hips, and my ass is nearly exposed.