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 strangled

told you that I want to see you 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

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

judder against the penetrating, delicious, invading, electric fingers, struggling to swallow long strands of

and

probing inside me are sending

while “You’re still not coming yet. But this is your last appetiser. You get

wiping his hand on the immaculate

talking behind it. “You’re drenched, Kirstie.

My pasta?

Ohhhh…… Godddddd….

*****

walk back arm in arm across the river bridge from the Old

so far

agrees, “but it’s a lovely evening for

tingling with arousal and the

spot because I’m going to bend you over the bonnet, and

just

I say, halting and turning to face him,

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

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

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, and enjoyed

in the clubs. It’s still daylight,

chance to go down, because that’s

at the car, I consider my

Master’s?…

and well away from any street lights. The setting sun is blushing shadows over the spot, and

head-points me.

heart hammering and

face the car and bend

still warm from the dregs of the sunshine, my arms

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

quivering skin. As I whimper, behind me there is the rasp

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

could see