Choosing Her Lover

Chapter 36

*****

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

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

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

I judder against the penetrating, delicious, invading, electric fingers, struggling

it. Enjoy your food, but I want you good and expectant for later when I get my cock inside

inside me are sending

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

with that, he pulls free, wiping his hand

at his mouth with the napkin, talking behind it. “You’re drenched,

My pasta?

Ohhhh…… Godddddd….

*****

bridge from the Old City to the

had to park so far out,” I say. “It’s

he agrees, “but it’s

warm and happy; tingling with arousal and the pleasant anticipation of

he continues, “I picked a quiet spot because I’m going to bend you over the bonnet, and

I just hear

and turning to face

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

“But we’re parked

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

arrested in the clubs. It’s

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

car, I consider

Master’s?…

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

head-points me. “Stand

and pussy aching, I obey

car

warm from the dregs of the

hips. My panties are worthless; soaked and sagging, and

you think about what I’m going to

skims my aching pussy lips, drawing fingernails over sensitised and quivering skin. As I

his evening suit, but he pushes inside my pulsing pussy, thrusting a few times as he finishes opening me

anyone could

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