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

that I want to see you try to eat spaghetti while I 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 us plenty of privacy and,” he nods towards

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

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

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

unfurling as he speaks. The fingers probing inside me are sending electric shocks pinging through to my

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

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

talking behind

My pasta?

Ohhhh…… Godddddd….

*****

arm across the river bridge from the

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

is,” he agrees, “but it’s a lovely evening

is,” I say, feeling warm and happy; tingling with arousal and the pleasant

“I picked a quiet spot because I’m going to bend you

just hear

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

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

parked in a

shadows there. You can see out, but they can’t see in. And besides,” he gives me a cool look, “if

in the clubs. It’s

slowly. Give the sun chance to go

at 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

me. “Stand

hammering and

turn to face the car

still warm from the dregs of the sunshine,

hips. My panties are worthless; soaked and

my sex, fingers inserting. “That’s good, Kirstie. I wanted to make you wait, to make you think about what I’m going to feel like inside you. I wanted you very wet, and you’re

fingernails over sensitised and quivering skin.

is still fully dressed in his evening suit, but he pushes inside my pulsing pussy, thrusting a few times as he finishes opening me up. His cock is huge and warm and deliciously

could see