Dinner Out

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Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Feeling a little bad that we haven’t spent any time away from the apartment, we decide to go out for dinner. Arm in arm we follow the Maitre’d to our seats. all eyes , especially mine , are on my baby. I swear I heard at least one person berate their date for staring.

Thinking back to earlier this evening, remembering her getting ready. Towel clad, walking through the apartment. Trailing her to the bedroom, leaning against the doorjam, watching her. Knowing if I stepped in to that room, we’d never leave for dinner. It took more strength than I thought I had. I did however allow myself the pleasure of holding her hand on the ride over, gazing deeply in to her eyes, but to be safe I kept the privacy partition open.

Sitting in a quiet corner booth, candle light, soft music. Maybe it might be fun to try to resist her for as long as I could. In truth it was incredible hard to sit this close and not show my affection to her.

After making our orders, we sat, side by side, heads turned to each other, exchanging looks, both with silly grins, almost to oblivious to the others in this room, the sounds of plates and glasses, silver and the murmurs of conversations barely filtering in. Completely lost in one another.

We both started with a light appetizer, followed by the soup. Smiling and laughing, sharing comments and stories about this and that. Taking her hand into mine, resting beneath the table, peering towards each other like empassioned lovers. I half joked if we could get our entre to go.

“Oh no” she whispered “we just got here” releasing my sarıyer escort hand to grip the water glass, taking a sip. Now my hand laying upon her thigh, through the silk I felt the warmth of her skin. I noticed that she didn’t wear stockings, I didn’t mind, I find her skin even softer than the sexy thigh highs she usually wears.

Feeling a bit playful and rather bold, I chose just as the waiter approaches with our entres, to slide my hand down to the hem of her dress, right at her knee. Realizing she can’t say or do anything without making a scene, her eyes dart to mine, both of us sharing a wicked little grin. As bowls are removed and plates put in place, fingertips, slowly , as not to draw any undue attention, stroke heavenly smooth skin. Fingers stretched out and closing, skimming over in intricate designs. Even when the waiter left I continued to caress, moving further up the leg.

With both palms on the table, nails slightly pressed, in almost a clench. Her eyes with a silent plea not to stop.

Thankful for the long tablecloth, I keep on gliding up. Both of us ignoring our meals, trying to sate a more important hunger. Her breath becoming short with anticipation.

In truth , I was rather surprised at my discovery, she gasped when the gentle stroke of my fingertips did not run over delicate silk or a lacey pattern, but instead the hot soaked folds of her furnace.

Smiling broadly, well before did I , whispering in my ear ” I really didn’t think you’d wait this long…figured you’d find this out in the limo” sefaköy escort Biting my earlobe as she brought her leg up and over mine, giving me a wider range of motion. I took my napkin out of my lap and placed it in hers, concealing my actions.

Cirling and teasing, pulling on the outer edge , loving her tiny whimpers and moans, with the occasional gasp. Watching her grit her teeth and stifle a sound that would have drawn everyones’ attention in the room, as I stop teasing and slide in, feeling the heat of her core, seeing how she quivers, the walls contracting tightly. Retracting slowly , still rigid and straight, now soaked in her sex, gliding back into her, watching her hands ball into fists pulling the tablecloth as her leg extends fully. Curling my middle finger with deliberate intent, over the spot, a spot I know well. A beckoning motion, using just the right amount of pressure.

Leaning in, nuzzling her ear, moaning deeply that I couldn’t help myself, and hinting that perhaps I should stop. The next thing I felt was her palms clamped to the back of my hand, holding it in place. Pausing a moment, trying to calm herself, before uttering “…get the check!”

Wrapped dinners ,a rather befuddled waiter, and minutes later we are in the back of the limo. Quick instructions to the driver to tour the island, and a raising of the partition.

When I turned back to face her, sitting in the middle of the seat, leaning back, seductively hiking up her dress, and spreading for me. In a blink I was on my knees devouring her, driven silivri escort to finish what I started in the resturant. Hands on the back of her knees, hoisting the up, apart and back, my tongue drawn over her sex again and again. As her nails dug in the back of my head, finally able to let loose her once muffled gasps, turning to gutteral growling and sharp shrieks, arching her back. Jutting her hips up and at me. Lapping at her womanhood, suckling at her lips, so swollen and pink. Thrusting my finger cautiously in to her essence. Her drenched loins quenching my thirst, but not yet the hunger, my hunger to pleasure her. Tongue and finger working as one, frantically bringing her closer and closer to the edge. Her inner walls tightening, almost trembling. Legs locked out, feet pressed against the opposite cardoor jams. Hips thrusting up and back, arched so that her bottom has lifted off the seat.

As she races towards the threshold , I peer up and over her body, always getting the same feeling amazement when I look at her, how she can arouse me like no other, how she makes me want never to stop.

The shuttering and cries of passion brings me back to my desire. Her form dropping back to the seat, writhing and hips churning. Enjoying the waves of her climax washing over and through her, loosening her grip as she finally gives herself , fully , to the sweet release.

Her panting calms when it is time, but not without effort. Laying much stiller than before, as I kiss tenderly on and around her softness, over the thighs, looking up at the Goddess. Meeting her eyes, half closed with heavy lids, and a rather satisfied grin on her face. With great care I pull the dress down covering her most intimate, and rest my head in her lap. As I feel her fingers lovingly run through my hair, she purrs after a light sigh ” We should go out to dinner more often”

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32