Choosing Her Lover

Chapter 36

*****

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

you.” he chuckles, one-handedly scooping and winding brilliantly green noodles. He glances around our cubicle. “I like it here,” he says. “I told the waiters to give us plenty of privacy and,” he nods towards the trellis and plants, “no-one else can see what

of food, I suppress a squeal as

the earthquake in my flesh, I judder against the penetrating, delicious, invading, electric fingers, struggling to

good and

already swollen pussy is unfurling as he speaks. The fingers probing inside me are sending electric shocks pinging through to my clit. My hips quake and jerk

all the while “You’re still not coming

he pulls free, wiping his hand on

napkin, talking behind it.

My pasta?

Ohhhh…… Godddddd….

*****

finished, we walk back arm in arm across the river bridge from the Old City to the New,

park so far out,”

it’s

happy; tingling with

quiet spot because I’m going to bend you over the bonnet, and fuck you til

I just hear

say, halting and turning to face him, “I think I misheard

to the car, I’m going to

“But we’re parked

You can see out, but they can’t see in. And besides,” he gives me a cool look, “if

in the

to

car, I consider

Master’s?…

parking lot, partially hidden by shrubs, and well away from any street lights. The setting sun is blushing shadows over the spot, and the car

me.

hard, heart hammering and pussy aching, I

the car and bend

lie over the bonnet, still warm

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

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

quivering skin. As I whimper, behind me there is the

a few times as he finishes opening me up. His cock is

could

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