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

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

with that, his hand pushes in and up, and through my mouthful of food, I suppress a squeal as fingers plunge deep,

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

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

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

again, working my inner muscles all the while “You’re still not

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

mouth with the napkin, talking behind

My pasta?

Ohhhh…… Godddddd….

*****

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

had to park so far out,” I

it’s a lovely evening for

warm and happy; tingling with arousal and the pleasant anticipation

picked a quiet spot because I’m going to bend

just

and turning to face him, “I think I

back to the car, I’m

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

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

in the clubs.

slowly. Give the sun chance to go down,

car,

Master’s?…

of the parking lot, partially hidden by shrubs, and well away from any street lights.

me.

and pussy aching, I

car

and lie over the bonnet, still warm from the dregs

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

you wait, to make you

and quivering skin. As I whimper, behind me there is the rasp of a

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

could