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 strangled

told you 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 it here,” he says. “I told the waiters to

and through my mouthful of food, I suppress a squeal as fingers plunge deep, rubbing at my

earthquake in my flesh, I judder against the penetrating,

Enjoy your food, but I want you good and expectant

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

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

his

talking behind it.

My pasta?

Ohhhh…… Godddddd….

*****

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

know why you had to park so far out,” I say. “It’s

“but it’s a

tingling with arousal and the pleasant anticipation of arriving back

because I’m going to bend you over the bonnet,

just

say, halting and turning to face him, “I

we get back to the car, I’m going to fuck you over

we’re parked in a

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

the clubs. It’s still daylight,

Give the sun chance to go down, because that’s what’s going

the car,

Master’s?…

from any street lights. The setting sun is blushing shadows over the spot, and the car is shrouded in shades of green and

head-points me. “Stand

and pussy aching,

face the car and bend forward, hands

lie over the bonnet, still warm from the dregs of the sunshine,

are worthless; soaked and

you wait, to make you think about what I’m going to feel

skin. As I whimper, behind me there

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

could see