I do so enjoy teasing you. It’s usually quite innocent…
Like if we were at a ballgame I’d go to the ladies room and come back to take my seat as if I didn’t just text you a pic of my naked breast with a comment about what I’d like you to do to my achingly hard nipple and have no idea why you think your randomly generated hard on is my problem.
Or maybe we’re in a store and I need to venture off to get something while you buy …whatever stuff you buy…and before I leave I softly whisper some filthy thing in your ear that I’m hoping you’ll want to do to me later then dash off, leaving you shocked and trying to remember what it was you needed to buy since it just flew out of your head for some reason.
Or as you pull into the restaurant parking lot I hike my skirt up and slip my panties off, I read just my skirt and casually lean over to tuck my panties into the inner pocket of your suit jacket like that’s normal behavior.
Maybe if we had to wait for our tableI could stand in front of you so I could unobtrusively rubbing my ass against your hardening cock. And since I’m so clumsy I’ll probably end up dropping my phone a few times during dinner causing me to fumble under the table looking for it. If that means accidentally grazing your cock with my fingers it’s not my fault…
In fact I’d be very concerned about how much precum you may have been gushing, so under the guise of dropping my phone yet again I duck under the table and very quickly pull your hard cock out of your pants. Wrap[ing my lips around the swollen head and within a few very quick seconds suck the precum off and run the tip of my tongue firmly and fast once around the ridge …too bad my cleaning off your cock was for nothing as you have another surge as I tuck you back into your pants, zip, and return to my seat just as the waiter shows up.
I Wonder how you did at maintaining your composition? Probably better than I would have…
Corner booth in a restaurant and my panties in your jacket pocket…probably pretty easy for you to reach over and run your finger up and down my wet slit without anyone noticing. I’d be trying not to squirm while maintaining a normal demeanor, as if you’re not deliberately increasing pressure on my clip working your finger faster to remind me who’s in charge. I mean I was just engaging in some harmless flirting but this has to stop! You are taking this way too far…you can’t do this in public! Trying to push your hand away without making a scene is impossible and demanding that you stop it right now is having no effect whatsoever.
Except that my obvious embarrassment and distress is making you grin that grin that tells me this is just the beginning.
“This isn’t funny…” I began…freezing mid-sentence as the waiter returns. He says a bunch of words that probably had meanings, but I have no idea what they were. I couldn’t think about anything except the fact that the waiter was standing there having a conversation with you, looking at me, while your finger slowly traced from my clip to the entrance of my aching pussy.
How are you doing that with no visible movement of your arm above the table? Looking for all the world as if you’re hand is just resting on my knee?
You’re making me pay for my innocent flirtation by teasing me until my pussy is soaked, I beg you to give me my panties back Because it’s so uncomfortable being this wet with nothing between me and the world but the thin fabric of my skirt. Of course you won’t give them to me. You just smile and pat the pocket of your jacket where they’re tucked away, shove your inside my cunt as deep as you can give the angle so suddenly i gasp and bite my lip to keep silent while gripping the table for support. Your finger buried inside my tight cunt, thumb lightly passing over my clip…too lightly..it’s excruciating how you deny me the pressure I so desperately need you whisper in my ear, “who owns this?” as you jerkYour finger upward hitting my g-spot as a second finger follows the first. Stunned, I’m barely able to answer, “you do.”
You already knew that. You just love making me say it.
At this point I’m maintaining control, but barely, and if I come now our cover is blown since quiet during orgasm I am not. Not wanting to be asked to leave before our entrees are served, you bring me to the edge and then abandon my clip and jam your fingers harder into my now soaking wet cunt once more for good measure…
You pull your hand away and as I try to compose myself while hoping against hope the wet spot on my skirt won’t be visible when I stand, you reach over and with your fingers under my chin gently turn my face to you and kiss me. I’m overwhelmed by happiness just to be with you when your eyes dart around to see who is within eye shot and quickly bring your fingers up to my mouth. Fingers which had, seconds before, been deep inside my warm, wet push them into my mouth..”lick them, now.” I do and you pull them away before anyone sees. You can see my own wetness glistening over my lipstick…”good girl” you say as you tenderly brush my hair back from my face and kiss my forehead.
I can’t think of anything but my excruciating need for release, but before I can ask if we can go home our waiter brings our entrees. How can you eat? The only thing I want in my mouth is you, I have no interest in food now! But at your insurance I absentmindedly eat a bit as I marvel at your ability to not only enjoy dinner but tell me a funny work story and act like I’m not ready to cry due to how badly I need to come.
At least I assume it was a funny story since you laughed. To be honest I didn’t hear a word. I was, however, staring at your mouth marveling at how those teeth you flash so easily when you smile will likely leave marks on my skin later tonight that won’t fade for weeks.
A shiver of fear and excitement went up my spine at the thought.
Why are you eating so slowly? I can’t prove it but I swear you’re doing this on purpose because you know I need to come.
The waiter stops by to check on us and I order a French martini. I wasn’t drinking earlier, but as it doesn’t look like you’re in any worry to get me home I need to take the edge off.
“No. Although the lady may have more water if she would like Some.”
The waiter has no idea how to respond, I choke back my shock, smile at the waiter…”Yes, I would rather have water. Thank you.” He nods and curries off to get my water. Also, I suspect o tell the other waiters about the bossy guy with the chick who can’t stop squirming over in the corner table.
Once the waiter leaves I turn and ask him how he could embarrass me like that? This has always been between us, he can’t say things like that to other people. He strokes my hair…”of course I can, I just did.”
I say nothing but turn my head away from him, clearly not happy. He doesn’t seem to nNotice as he slides closer to me…I can feel his hot breath on my ear as his fingers trail up my thigh. I push my legs together in a valuable attempt to deny him access. The smile leaves his face, his voice barely a whisper…”Spread your legs. Do it now, baby, or you will pay for this later.”
As I open my mouth to refuse my legs open for him as if of their own according. again he plugs his fingers are deep inside me and finds me still so very wet. He slides his fingers casually in and out of me as he finishes his drink, once again his movements undetectable from above the table.
The waiter returns asking if we would like to order dessert. My relief is palpable as I wait for him to say no and ask for the check, We never order dessert.
Except tonight.
I still have no idea if My skirt is showing the results of hidden concentrated effort to keep me soaking wet while refusing to return my panties, so I had planned on walking out in front of him so if there was any kind of wet spot no one else would see. But now that he’s decided he wants to prolong this I can’t put it off any longer and need to cross the restaurant to get to the ladies room; I excuse myself and get up from the table.
I ask him to tell me, when I stand, if the back of my skirt is OK and he grinns and asks, “where’s the fun in that?” I briefly consider coming while I’m in there, he’s been torturing me all night and it would serve him right…but I can’t. Not without permission.
When I touch myself, when I come? Those are his decisions not mine. He controls my pleasure. As desperate as I am to come to do so without his command is unthinkable at this point. I don’t choose to obey…I’m compelled.
It’s as if he’s reading my mind. “Maybe I shouldn’t trust you? Maybe I should make you wait until we get home?” I shift from one foot to the other waiting for him to finish…
“Go ahead, baby. But don’t you dare.” I thank him and rush off feeling relieved until it dawns onme…did he just gives me permission to use the bathroom? And did I just thank him for that? That’s new. We’re going have to discuss this little development later…
As I exit the ladies room I see him waiting for me in the lobby. In an instant all my frustration turns to anticipation as he grabs my hand and we head for the car.
Once inside he leans over to kiss me…pushing my skirt up to expose my freshly waxed pussy and began furiously rubbing my clip while teasing the entrance to my pussy with the other finger…it’s all I can do to hold it…
“Come, NOW!” and with that I let go…wave after wave of pleasure wraps my body as I moan his name and buck up against his hand. Others are in the lot walking to their cars…I don’t care if anyone can see as I couldn’t stop if I wanted to…he makes me come until I’m exhausted and shaking.
“That’s my girl” he says as he kissed my forehead as he reaches over to fasten my seat belt. I smile weakly at him so happy andso overwhelmed…he tells me to rest on the way home because this was just the beginning of our evening.
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