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

glances around our cubicle. “I like it here,” he says. “I told the waiters to give us plenty of privacy and,” he

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

I judder against the penetrating, delicious,

and expectant for later

pussy is unfurling as he speaks. The fingers probing inside me are

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

with that, he pulls free, wiping his hand on the immaculate white linen

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

My pasta?

Ohhhh…… Godddddd….

*****

the river bridge from the Old City to the New,

you had to park so far out,” I say.

it’s a lovely evening for a

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

just hear

and turning to face him,

“When we get back to the car, I’m going

we’re parked in a

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

arrested in the clubs.

chance to go down, because that’s what’s going to

car, I consider my

Master’s?…

lot, partially hidden by shrubs, and well away from any street lights. The setting sun is

head-points me.

hard, heart hammering and

the car

the bonnet, still warm from the dregs of

pushes my skirt up to my hips. My panties are worthless; soaked

make you think about what I’m going to feel like inside you.

skin.

he pushes inside my pulsing pussy, thrusting a few times as he finishes opening me

anyone could

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