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 strangled

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

up, and through my mouthful of food,

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

Enjoy your food, but I want you good and expectant for later when I get my cock

going to take too long. My already swollen pussy is unfurling as he speaks. The fingers probing inside me are

to me again, working my inner muscles all the while “You’re still not coming yet. But this

that, he pulls free, wiping his hand on the immaculate white

with the napkin, talking behind it. “You’re drenched, Kirstie. Wonderful. How’s your

My pasta?

Ohhhh…… Godddddd….

*****

back arm in arm across the river bridge from the Old City to the New, where Ryan’s

so far out,” I say. “It’s quite a long

agrees, “but it’s a

it is,” I say, feeling warm and happy; tingling with arousal and the pleasant anticipation of arriving

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

just hear

and turning to face

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

parked in a public place.”

there. You can see out, but they can’t see in. And besides,” he gives me

get arrested in the clubs. It’s

slowly. Give the sun chance to go down,

at the car,

Master’s?…

well away from any street lights. The setting sun is blushing shadows over the spot, and the car is

head-points me.

hard, heart hammering and pussy aching,

turn to face the car

the bonnet, still warm

My panties are worthless; soaked and sagging, and he tugs them down

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

pussy lips, drawing fingernails over sensitised and quivering skin. As I whimper, behind

but he pushes inside my pulsing pussy, thrusting a few times as he finishes opening me up. His cock is huge and warm and deliciously hard, and my hot cunt vibrates in welcome, clutching and clenching at the

anyone could see