Choosing Her Lover

*****

The performance over, and….

Did I see any of that….?

“I booked us a table at Luigi’s,” he says. “Is that alright? You like Italian?”

“Oh, yes.”

“Good. I made sure we would have a nice, intimate little spot, away from the eyes of the crowd.”

?????

What the hell’s he planning now?

The table is indeed ‘intimate’, tucked into a corner, away from the main body of the restaurant, and screened off by a wooden lattice and potted palms. We are, in a sense, visible from the main restaurant, but only to someone looking closely in.

We sit together, he holding out my chair to seat me. I’m unused to this kind of courtesy, but am beginning to take it for granted from Ryan.

What I have not started to take for granted is….

“They do a pesto spaghetti which is particularly good,” he remarks. “The basil grows in their own gardens at the back, and they make the pesto themselves.”

“You sound as though you know them well?”

“My mother is related to the chef.”

“You’re Italian?”

“Part Italian.”

“And the other part?”

“With a name like Dougherty? The other half’s Irish.”

“Who am I to argue with an Irish pasta expert? I’ll have the pesto spaghetti.” I say to the waiter.

“And I’ll have the same.”

The meal is, as promised, delicious, and I whirl coils of pasta around my fork. Sucking in the tail-end of one forkful, I startle as, below the table-cloth, my thighs are penetrated once more.

My voice is a

that I want to see you try to eat spaghetti while I finger you.” he chuckles, one-handedly scooping and winding brilliantly green noodles. He glances around our cubicle. “I like

in and up, and through my mouthful of

I judder against the penetrating, delicious, invading,

I want you good and expectant for

unfurling as he speaks. The fingers probing inside me are sending electric shocks pinging through to my clit. My hips quake

still not coming yet. But this is

free, wiping his hand on

his mouth with the napkin, talking behind it. “You’re drenched,

My pasta?

Ohhhh…… Godddddd….

*****

arm across the river bridge from the Old City to the New, where

know why you had to park so far out,”

is,” he agrees, “but it’s

I say, feeling warm and happy; tingling with arousal and the pleasant anticipation of

continues, “I picked a quiet spot because I’m going to bend you over

just hear

turning to

so.” he smiles. “When we get back to the car, I’m

beginning to panic. “But we’re parked in a public place.”

the shadows there. You can see out, but they can’t see in. And besides,” he gives me a cool look, “if I understand aright, you’ve often fucked in the clubs with an audience, and

in the clubs.

the sun chance to

car,

Master’s?…

partially hidden by shrubs, and well away from any street lights. The setting sun is blushing

me.

hard, heart hammering and pussy aching,

face the car and bend

and lie over the bonnet, still warm from the dregs of the sunshine, my arms reaching

up to my hips. My panties are worthless; soaked and sagging, and he tugs them down behind my

I wanted to make you wait, to make you think about what I’m going to feel like inside you.

skin. As I whimper, behind me there is the

he finishes opening me up. His cock is huge and warm and deliciously hard, and my hot cunt vibrates in

anyone could see