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

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,”

mouthful of food, I suppress a squeal as fingers

but disabled by the earthquake in my flesh, I judder against the penetrating, delicious, invading, electric fingers, struggling to swallow long strands of

but I want you good and expectant for later when I

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 coming yet. But this is

that, he pulls free, wiping his

talking behind

My pasta?

Ohhhh…… Godddddd….

*****

arm in arm across the river bridge

had to park so far out,” I say. “It’s quite a

he agrees, “but it’s a lovely evening

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

picked a quiet spot because I’m going to bend you over

just

to face him, “I

back to the car, I’m going

we’re parked in a public place.” I

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

get arrested in the clubs. It’s still daylight,

to

car, I consider my

Master’s?…

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

me.

hard, heart hammering and pussy aching, I obey

car

bonnet, still warm

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

sex, fingers inserting. “That’s good, Kirstie. I wanted to make you wait, to make you think about what I’m going to feel like inside you. I wanted

and quivering skin. As I whimper, behind me there

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 see