The Table

The waiter leads us to the perfect booth in a dimly lit corner, partially obscured by lush green foliage. The candle on the table casts a warm, understated glow that accentuates the ambience of the room. The waiter pours the wine, gives us a slight but knowing smile, and departs without a word. I raise my glass, tipping it toward yours, our glasses touch with the familiar ring of fine crystal. Our eyes meet.

We are briefly suspended in a shared look so intense, you feel as though I have seen your soul. Your face is flush as you break my penetrating lock on your eyes and glance away. I realize immediately your discomfort, and fall into light-hearted banter we exchange so well. Soon the wine and fond memories have relaxed you, and we are intoxicated by the moment--our charm, our candor, our intelligence. I feel such a need to touch you... to feel your warmth.

My attention is drawn away from the conversation at times, as I drift into thoughts of you and my overwhelming attraction to you. Suddenly I feel your hand on mine... strong, warm, gentle... and I grasp firmly, slightly at your touch. The waiter, who has been unobtrusive to this point, appears to refill the wine goblets and as he pours, I move closer to you and slide my hand from the table onto your thigh. Again the waiter departs, and we are left alone. You, too, slip your hand under the table onto my lap, your fingers brushing my lap. You become acutely aware of my excitement... my very erect cock.

Perhaps the wine has made us giddy... You can't resist the temptation to lightly stroke me on the outside of my slacks. You feel a damp spot on the fabric and realize there is budding moisture in your panties, as well. You excuse yourself to go to the ladies room; I stand, left to sip my wine and enjoy the thoughts of this moment.

Upon returning, you intentionally linger aside in an isolated area... glancing furtively to see who is near or watching you. Seeing no one, you slip quietly into the booth, but instead of repositioning yourself on the seat, you slide quickly under the tablecloth. Just as I turn away to notice other people leaving the restaurant.

I am startled as I feel your light touch on my leg. I can envision the naughty smile that has crossed your lips. Your hands work their way slowly and softly up my inner thighs and you feel me tense as they reach my zipper. The wetness on my slacks has increased and my cock is so fucking hard, if feels as if it could tear through such light fabric. With one deft motion, you free my shaft from the confines of a well-tailored suit, and detect the changing rhythm of my breath quickening.

Reaching under the table, I grasp your head with the palms of my hand firmly, and draw me to you, entangling my fingers in your hair, teasing the strands gently. Your tongue brushes the tip of my cock and tastes pre-cum juices. Soon, you gently suck and nibble on the head, running a warm tongue in circles around the now -engorged bulb.

You smile at the thought of my intense arousal, knowing I must maintain more than a semblance of appearing normal outwardly. You hear dishes clanging and the sound of flatware being cleared nearby. Horribly dirty thoughts are going through my mind. "She is so... unbelievably... fucking... sexy, this little whore of mine."

My cock is throbbing uncontrollably now, as you slide up and down with your warm, wet mouth and tongue, taking the entire shaft deep inside, and withdrawing to the head... pausing there briefly, before descending again. My hands increases the pressure on your head, pulling you tighter and closer as I feel my orgasm nearing. You taste more pre-cum, increase the quickness of the up and down strokes with your mouth. My breathing is rapid and shallow, as you grasp my balls with your left hand. You feel a shudder and a sudden gushing of my cum as it fills your mouth, my cock convulsing repeatedly as you suck the juices and swallow all of me. Licking every last drop, you render me empty, exhilarated with content.

"Oh... Baby... " I moan, softly. You linger below a few minutes, to give me time to compose myself. When it's clear, I signal that you may rejoin me on the seat.

Once again we sip wine, bathed in the soft glow of the candlelight. We resume our earlier conversation, intoxicated with satiated arousal. Your thoughts drift to after dinner frolicking, when it will be my turn to send you into a wild frenzy of passionate and sensual oral pleasure.