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.

voice is a

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 it here,” he says. “I told the waiters to give us plenty of privacy and,” he nods

and up, and through my mouthful of food, I suppress a

the earthquake in my flesh, I judder against the

good and expectant for later when

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

still not coming yet. But this is your last appetiser. You get the main course

free, wiping his hand on

talking behind it. “You’re drenched, Kirstie. Wonderful.

My pasta?

Ohhhh…… Godddddd….

*****

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

to park so far out,” I

agrees, “but it’s a lovely evening for

happy; tingling with arousal and the pleasant anticipation

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

just hear

and turning to face

think so.” he smiles. “When we get back to the car,

“But we’re parked in

can see out, but they can’t see in. And besides,” he gives me a cool look, “if I understand aright, you’ve often

in the clubs.

sun chance to

the car, I consider

Master’s?…

well away from any street lights. The setting sun is blushing shadows

head-points me. “Stand

hard, heart hammering and pussy

turn to face the car

lie over the bonnet, still warm from the dregs of

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

you think about what I’m going to feel like inside you.

aching pussy lips, drawing fingernails over sensitised and quivering skin. As

suit, 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,

could