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

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

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

the penetrating, delicious, invading, electric fingers, struggling to swallow long

and expectant for later when I get my cock

to take too long. My already swollen pussy is unfurling as he speaks. The fingers probing inside me are sending electric shocks pinging through to my clit. My hips quake and jerk and he

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

that, he pulls free, wiping his hand on

talking behind it. “You’re

My pasta?

Ohhhh…… Godddddd….

*****

in arm across the river bridge from the Old City

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

agrees, “but it’s a

it is,” I say, feeling warm and happy; tingling with

spot because I’m going to bend you over the

just hear

to face him, “I think I

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

panic. “But we’re parked in a public

we’re not. We’re parked 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 aright, you’ve often fucked in the clubs with an audience,

don’t get arrested in the clubs. It’s still

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

car, I

Master’s?…

extreme far corner of the parking lot, partially hidden by shrubs, and well away from any street lights. The setting

head-points me.

hard, heart hammering and pussy aching, I

face the car and

warm from the dregs of the sunshine, my arms reaching

are worthless; soaked

cups 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

fingernails over sensitised and quivering skin. As I whimper, behind

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,

anyone could