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 strangled

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 plants, “no-one else can see what

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

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

it. Enjoy your food, but I want you good and expectant for

going 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

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

his hand on the

his mouth with the napkin, talking behind

My pasta?

Ohhhh…… Godddddd….

*****

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

so far out,” I say. “It’s quite a long

“but it’s a

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

he continues, “I picked a quiet spot because I’m going to bend

I just hear

say, halting and turning to face him, “I

he smiles. “When we get back to the car,

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

he gives me a cool look, “if I understand aright, you’ve often

get arrested in the

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

at the car, I consider

Master’s?…

any street lights. The setting sun is blushing shadows over the spot, and the car is

head-points me. “Stand

heart hammering and pussy aching,

face the car and bend forward, hands

still warm

hips. My panties are worthless;

good, Kirstie. I wanted to make you wait, to make you think about what I’m going to feel like inside you. I wanted you very wet, and

over sensitised and quivering skin. As I whimper, behind

finishes opening me up. His cock is huge and warm and deliciously hard, and

could