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

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

judder against the penetrating,

you good and expectant for later when

not going to take 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 and he smiles

while “You’re still not coming yet. But this

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

napkin, talking

My pasta?

Ohhhh…… Godddddd….

*****

arm across the river bridge from the Old City to the New,

know why you had to park so far out,” I say. “It’s quite

he agrees, “but it’s a lovely evening for

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

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

just

turning to face him, “I

we get back to the car, I’m going to fuck you over

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

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,

in the

to go down,

at the car, I

Master’s?…

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

head-points me.

hammering and pussy aching, I

the car

I turn and lie over the bonnet, still warm

my hips. My panties are worthless; soaked and sagging, and he tugs them

to make you think about what I’m going to feel like inside you. I wanted you very wet, and you’re

skin. As I

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