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

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

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

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

want you good and expectant for

inside me are sending electric shocks pinging

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

pulls free, wiping his hand on

dabs at his mouth with the napkin, talking behind

My pasta?

Ohhhh…… Godddddd….

*****

in arm across the river bridge from the Old

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

agrees, “but it’s a lovely

happy; tingling with arousal and the pleasant anticipation

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

I just

say, halting and turning to face him, “I

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

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

see in. And besides,” he gives me a cool look, “if I understand aright, you’ve often fucked in the clubs with an

in the

walk slowly. Give the sun chance to

the car, I consider

Master’s?…

by shrubs, and well away from any street lights. The setting sun is blushing shadows

head-points me. “Stand

hammering and pussy

car and bend forward, hands

warm from the dregs of the sunshine, my

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

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

fingernails over sensitised and quivering skin. As I whimper,

dressed in his evening suit, but he 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

could