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.

My voice is

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

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

the penetrating, delicious, invading, electric

I want you good and expectant for later when I get my cock inside

take too long. My already swollen pussy is unfurling as he speaks. The fingers probing inside me are sending electric shocks pinging through to

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

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

napkin, talking behind it. “You’re

My pasta?

Ohhhh…… Godddddd….

*****

the river bridge from the Old City to the New, where Ryan’s

park so far out,” I

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

is,” I say, feeling warm and happy; tingling with arousal and the pleasant anticipation of arriving back at

spot because I’m going to bend you over the bonnet, and fuck

I just hear

halting and turning to

we get back to the car, I’m

parked in a public place.” I

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

arrested in the clubs. It’s

to go down, because that’s

the car, I consider

Master’s?…

far corner of the parking lot, partially hidden by shrubs, and well away from any street lights. The setting sun is blushing shadows over the spot, and the car is

me.

heart hammering and pussy aching, I

face the car

I turn and lie over the bonnet, still warm from the dregs of the sunshine,

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

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

drawing fingernails over sensitised and quivering skin. As I

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 in welcome, clutching and clenching at

anyone could