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.

is a

finger you.” he chuckles, one-handedly scooping and winding brilliantly green noodles. He glances around our cubicle. “I like it here,” he says. “I told the waiters to give

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 swallow long strands of

and expectant for later when I get my

long. My already swollen pussy is unfurling as he speaks. The fingers probing inside me

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

he pulls free, wiping his hand on the immaculate

his mouth with the napkin, talking

My pasta?

Ohhhh…… Godddddd….

*****

finished, we walk back arm in arm across the river bridge

to park so far

it’s a lovely evening for a

feeling warm and happy; tingling with arousal and the pleasant anticipation of arriving back at

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

I just hear

I say, halting and turning to

to the car, I’m going

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

get arrested in the clubs.

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

car,

Master’s?…

shrubs, and well away from any street lights. The setting sun is blushing

me. “Stand

hard, heart hammering and pussy

face the car and bend

lie over the bonnet, still warm from the dregs of the sunshine, my

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

you wait, to make you think about what I’m going to

sensitised and quivering skin. As I whimper, behind me there is

few times as he finishes opening me up. His cock is huge and warm and deliciously hard, and my hot cunt vibrates in welcome, clutching and clenching at

anyone could see