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

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

with that, his hand pushes in and up, and through my mouthful of food, I suppress a

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

I want you good and expectant for later when I get my cock inside

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

muscles all the while “You’re still

wiping his

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

My pasta?

Ohhhh…… Godddddd….

*****

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

why you had to park so far out,” I say.

it’s

with arousal

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

I just

say, halting and turning to face him, “I think

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

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

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,

arrested in the clubs.

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

the car, I consider

Master’s?…

extreme far corner of the parking lot, partially hidden by shrubs, and well away from any street lights. The setting sun is blushing shadows over the spot, and the car is shrouded

me.

hard, heart hammering and pussy aching, I obey

car and

warm from

up to my hips. My panties are worthless;

my sex, fingers inserting. “That’s good, Kirstie. I wanted to make you wait, to make you think about

pussy lips, drawing fingernails over sensitised and quivering skin. As

times as he finishes opening me

could