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.

is a

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 towards the trellis and

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

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

your food, but I want you good and expectant for later

speaks. The fingers probing inside me are sending electric shocks pinging

while “You’re still not coming yet. But this

wiping his hand on

the napkin, talking

My pasta?

Ohhhh…… Godddddd….

*****

across the river bridge from the Old City to the New,

why you had to park so

it’s

say, feeling warm and happy; tingling with arousal and the pleasant

going to bend you

I just hear

turning to face him, “I think I misheard

so.” he smiles. “When we get back to the car, I’m going to fuck you

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

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

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

car, I consider my

Master’s?…

parking spot; in the extreme far corner of the 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. “Stand

hammering and pussy

turn to face the car and

and lie over the bonnet, still warm from the

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

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

and quivering skin. As

inside my pulsing pussy, thrusting a few times as he finishes opening me up. His cock is huge

could see