Dinner date [part 1 of 2]
By: hex (firstname.lastname@example.org)
Like many fanclub members, I guess, I never used to leave feedback for authors. Earlier this year I started to do so, and have ended up exchanging messages with several. After enjoying "Jenny in Amsterdam" by "Jenny S (and Mike)" I left some feedback, telling them how much I had enjoyed the story. Jenny and I exchanged a few messages, and then started to exchange emails. After a while she asked me to write her a story. It's my first story for ES, I'd like any feedback, good, bad or what ever.
As I drive up to your house the door opens, you must have seen me arriving. A last kiss good bye, before you walk towards the car. I am disappointed to see your wearing a coat, about knee length and a dark non-descript grey. Below the hem line things are looking up your legs are sheathed in fine white stockings and on your feet, a pair of silver sandals with straps winding up your legs to end in bows just below your knees. I come around to open the door for you; from closer I can see the deep red of lipstick, like a fine wine, but of too few summers. The palpable disappointment at your attire must have shown on my face, "You'll have to wait, be patient, it gets better". A quick kiss and I open the door for you to slide down into the low slung seats. As you climb in, the coat opens a little to reveal a flash of white silk and the start of the lacy welt at the stockings top. Your right, be patience, things are being revealed. As I climbing back into the car, you ask where we are going, "For dinner, like I said", you want to know where "now it's your turn for patience".
The sent of your perfume and body mingle with the deep smell of the soft leather seats. I can't help thinking of the sublime way that a woman's perfume and her own private sent meld to form an intoxicating, and unique aroma. As I breathe in this heady combination, I can't help sensing a touch of your body's excitement.
Pulling back out into the road we join the traffic, I try to steal glances as I drive though the heavy traffic. You spot me taking my eyes from the road and stretch back in the seat, your hand stroking the soft surface of the leather, you let out a purr like a pussy cat with all the cream she could dream of.
This would feel incredible against naked skin.
Feel free, I reply, trying not to stress the pun.
You squirm, the idea is obviously tempting.
I'd make a mess, you smile.
You'd leave me a lasting reminder.
A long shapely leg reaches out and you rest your foot on top of the dash and start to adjust your stockings. I'm drawn by the comparison of your leg and the long sensual curves of the bonnet stretching away in front. As I endeavour to hold both sites in view.
Mmm silk stockings I remark noticing the slight ruckling at the knee.
They feel wonderful, but better still they give me a constant excuse to play them, you reply.
As the car slots through a gap at a roundabout, you switch legs, draping your left on top of the dash, and opening your demure covering further. I'm left struggling to concentrate on the traffic whilst you put on your show. The coat has now opened enough for the gentle pink of your thigh to be visible above your stocking top. As my eyes are drawn down you chastise me "keep your eyes on the road". Am I distracting you, you ask. As you finish adjusting your hosiery your hand strays further up your leg, opening more of a view, whilst hiding your fingers.
I can be very distracting you know, you purr.
In the half light of the car, all I can see is your hand slowly moving, stroking back and forth, your head is thrown back and the occasional sigh passes your lips. Do tell me when we're nearly there.
I drive on, desperately trying to both watch the show you're so evidently trying to put on for our mutual benefit, whilst at the same time concentrate on the traffic, and navigating in the dieing half light of dusk.
You have about 5 minutes, I think.
Thanks, the disappointment evident in your voice. I was just starting to get close myself.
From your bag a compact appears, I reach out and turn on the map reading light for you.
I love to watch lipstick being applied, the sensual way the brush caresses the lips. The pout to get just the right coverage. How is one supposed to drive?
We pull up in front of the restaurant, and the doorman is quickly to your door, you look over it my direction, smile and then turn back to the door, evidently the poor doorman is being treated to more of view than I've been allowed so far. I surrender the car to the valet, and come around to join you. You've closed your coat again, I've still got to wait.
As we mount the staircase, the doors are opened, and we leave the deepening gloom for the warm subdued light inside.
Good evening Sir, the Maitre'd sweeps up, and Madam. May I help you with your coat Madam?
Could you tell me where the ladies room is.
A waitress is instantly at hand, and I watch as you're led away.
Would you care for aperitifs before moving into the restaurant? Your normal table is ready.
We'll have a drink in the library if we may Nigel.
I choose a low arm chair facing the door; I'm eagerly awaiting your entrance. Two menus and the wine "list" are waiting on the table. I'm alerted to your arrival, but the sudden hushed silence. Mine is not the only head to turn as you walk through the door. I stand to greet you properly this time. Now I can see why you wanted to make me wait. About your neck is a cascade of diamante's flashing in the lights and drawing even more attention to your décolleté. The dress is of white silk, fine strings of matching stones support the front. Soft drapes of the fine cloth cover your breasts, but hang down to about your navel, where a solitaire hides beneath the fall from the necklace. Lower the dress perfectly matches your form, flowing over your slender hips and clinging to the curve of your thighs to peter out slightly closer to the tops of your legs than to your knees. The front is then spit a few inches, which explains the earlier views in the car.
The silk is fine, as it brushes your nipples, a darker rouge of colour is just visible, and your excitement is plain to see. Beneath the skirt, the outline of a white g string is just visible, I can't help thinking how much more beautiful the view would be without it. When at last my eyes manage to return to your face, your satisfaction at my reaction is writ large.
Will I do?
You give me a twirl, behind the back plunges to show that most attractive of cleavages as your spine dives between the succulent cheeks of your bottom. The effect is quite stunning. At the base a bow of fine silk hold the strings of you knickers together, enhancing the sensuality of the lines.
I reach out and take you in my arms, and kiss you, You look divine, I'll forgive the coat, I wouldn't have missed that entrance for the world. Standing this close your perfume is sublime, you must have sensed my deep breath,
So do you like my perfume?
You present your hand,
Or do I smell better?
The rich musky smell of your earlier teasing reaches my nostrils. I kiss the hand, and somehow resist the temptation to suck on your fingers.
You sink in to the low Chesterfield, the white of your dress contrasting nicely with the deep honey of the leather. It's fan like pleats extenuating your curves rising up from your waist. As you lean forward, I realise how good the view is from above, the dress hangs forward just a fraction, but enough for a glimpse through the glittering fall of gems to the deep pink buds of your nipples standing proudly out from the soft swellings of your breasts. Any waiter serving you this evening is going to have a hard time concentrating on your plate, or glass.
From the side, much of the curve of breast is also visible, not just the upper slopes, but the beautiful lower half where it juts away from your chest, to stand pleasingly and unconstrained.
I return to my seat, you're sitting straighter now, the hint of darker flesh against the pure white of your dress is mesmerising, your legs demurely together, your skirt smoothed out covers the tops of your holdups, you could not wear suspenders with this dress. The silk is fine enough that the outline of the lace welts at their tops is just apparent.
As I look back up and into your eyes, you smile beguilingly and cross your legs. Raising the right just a fraction more than is required or decencies demand; I am rewarded with a brief flash of your string, white silk again, if I'm not mistaken, but this time so fine that it's barely there. It looks finer than even the weave covering your legs.
A waiter approaches, would madam care for an aperitif whilst choosing her meal, and you sir he adds, without turning to me. His eyes are obviously transfixed; you casually lean forward, and afford him a wondrous site, which causes the young man to squirm uncomfortably.
A whiskey for me, you ask, the waiter is about to launch into a well rehearsed listing, but I cut him short. Two Lagavulin's if will. Certainly sir, he turns away barely able to tear his eyes away from your charms.
Spoil sport, I was only being indecisive to hold him longer, I think he was enjoying the view.
Yes, but I'm not sure he was enjoying, enjoying the view. The poor boy was starting to look quite uncomfortable.
I was starting to have an interesting effect. I was enjoying the view myself. I hope he serves us at table.
Our drinks arrive; can I get you anything else?
You slowly lean forward to languidly sip your drink, stretching back to breathe its warm aroma across your pallet. The effect on the waiter is rewarding, his eyes are almost on storks. As you leaned forward the whole of your breast must have come into view, from above, and then from the side. As you stretched, the material was drawn tightly over your flesh. The contours clearly defined, the nipple standing magnificently, her deep rouge darkening the covering in clear contrast to the brilliant white of the rest of the dress. A slight shiver extenuates the effect.
What's your name, you ask gazing into his eyes, he looks abashed and blushes deeply as his realises you know he was staring. Err Stephan, maam.
Thank you Stephan, the drinks are lovely.
I'll be right back with your canapés. He turns to go, relieved to escape, but having difficulty tearing his eyes away.
I wonder if he's on the menu, dinner could be interesting.
Stephan returns with a silver tray of tiny morsels. He leans forward to carefully explain each of the six different varieties. All the while, his eyes, roam to you chest, you uncross your legs, allowing your stocking tops to come into view before smoothing down your skirt. Poor Stephan is having to lean over more, to hide his growing pleasure at the view. I see your eyes wonder to the growing bulge and your tongue traces the outline of your lips. You hunch your shoulders further forward, even I sitting just across from you, can now see your swollen nipples. Stephan is getting tongue tied trying to describe the miniature Prosciutto Bruschetta and how tasty the sun dried tomatoes from his native Italy are.
You're not helping, I almost choke, when you casually slide your fingers into the open side of you dress, and pull on one of your nipples, elongating the pliable flesh of your breast before letting it go, with an audible moan.
Eventually he's able to escape, his erection now clearly visible under his tight grey trousers.
You watch as he awkwardly walks away, the satisfaction clear on your face.
Am I allowed to play with him?
Try not to get him fired, he has only just started here, I think.
Your show hasn't gone unnoticed with other customers. Men are trying not to stare, their wives and girl friends tutting and chiding, the odd mistress wondering where you shop. A couple look like they are likely to follow, if you make for the lady's room, to make enquires.
As we discuss the menu, you lean forward over the low table between us, you scoot your divine bottom to the edge of the seat, allowing your dress to slide up your legs above the tops of their silk coverings. You drop something to the floor, giving you an excuse to open your legs and show a fleeting glimpse of your sheer panties. Even in the brief look I'm afforded, I can clearly see the outline of your most kissable of lips. They look moist, the material is so transparent since it is damp with your excitement. Not really covering her at all, more lending her a gloss sheen, like a thin lacquer. Quickly your legs close again, and you carry on perusing the choices as if nothing had happened.
When Stephan comes to take our order, you again lean forward to allow him to look down your dress. You destroy the poor boys concentration, and he forgets my choice and has to ask again. All the while he is blushing, much to your satisfaction, and trying not to be too obvious about the way he looks at the sights you're presenting. To add to his discomfort you wait till he walks again, before draining your glass, he'll have to come back again now.
Half an hour later, we are called to the table. Stephan leads us though to the main restaurant, I bring up the tail, giving and ideal opportunity to admire the sway of your hips and your delicious rear as you walk. We are lead to a relatively secluded area, almost like an over sized alcove. I hope that sheltered nature of our position doesn't disappoint you, by limiting your chance to exhibit to the other clientele. There is one other table in our area, seated there are a slightly older gentleman, perhaps in his mid fifties, his companion is a young lady, of less than half his age. She's seated with her back to the restaurant, as we get close to our table I get a better look, she's blond, tall and has an impressive bust. Her dress is strapless, backless and low cut giving an eye catching décolleté. Stephan pulls the first chair out, and motions you to sit but instead you ask for the seating facing into the main part of the room. The gentleman on the next table eyes spot you as we approach, a forgotten fork full of soufflé stalls halfway from plate to mouth. His blonde companion turns towards us, her eyes smile and she turns back to her companion and brings him back to earth. As you lean forward to lower yourself into the seat, your new admirer seems to be enjoying the view you're presenting of the profile of your breast and all the while Stephan is not making a very good job of hiding the way he is looking down the top for a different view of the same vision. As we seat ourselves, Stephan moves to place a napkin on your lap.
It's all right Stephan dear; it would quite spoil your view if you covered up my legs. Looking down you then realise that the table top is glass, and spread your thighs to give me another brief glimpse of heaven.
As the waiter withdraws you look over at me,
Was I naughty to tease him so? He's rather cute, you don't mind do you.
Jenny of course I don't mind, I'm just enjoying watching you playing him.
He is rather cute isn't he, the lady at the next table called over, but Oliver hear won't let me tease him too much.
And I thought you came out to enjoy my company dear, her companion replied ironically.
Pierre, the Sommelier, arrives. Good evening again sir, and who is this charming apparition, his eyes, scan over your delights.
Pierre, meet Jenny.
Enchanted, he takes your hand, as he kisses it, he catches a hint of the fragrance of your earlier dalliance in the car.
A most beautiful perfume, a knowing smile breaks out across his face.
So you're the lady who's been causing my suppliers such heart ache.
In response you lean back, and smile, at the same time you open your legs. Through the glass top to the table your translucent underwear does little to hide the view of your naked pussy. Her engorged lips slightly open, the pink within clearly visible. The knickers far from hiding your charms, in fact enhance the view. Perhaps, wearing them was not such a bad move. I should know by now that when it comes to a tease, you are a passed master.
74 wasn't so good to a year for Champagne as for ladies I am afraid, but I have managed to secure some Louis Roederer 73 which is quite be exceptional. He poured a little into a long slim flute, and offered it for your approval.
Sir, will you be breaking your normal habit and join your partner?
Yes, thank you Pierre, for once I will.
I've decanted your Ducru Beaucaillou, as befits it, would you like that pouring too, or will you wait.
I look at the Sommelier,
It's considered polite to ask the customer even when you know the answer.
Once the glasses are filled, Pierre finally manages to tear his eyes away from your proffered charms, and withdraws.
A moment later, Stephan and rather nice young waitress appear with our appetisers. The girl seems no less excited by your appearance than poor Stephan. Not intimated, nor shocked, nor even jealous, excited. Her eyes seemed glued to your nipples, she shifted her feet and I would swear started to rub her own tights together as she looked at you.
A complimentary little dish before your first course, a warm broccoli cream soup with a selection of breads.
Oliver on the next table now doesn't seem to know where to leave his eyes. I can tell by the way your sitting you must be giving a most distracting sight, the profile or your enchanting breast must be visible to almost your nipples. He's adjusted the way he sitting to allow him to glance over with out, he thinks, being too obvious. Now however it is also trying to follow the waitress. As she leans over to put my dish on the table, her ample cleavage is well displayed. During this display she glances up at Oliver and smiles.
Once the food is server, the waitress positions herself behind you, between the two tables. She seems to be trying to find a position that gives her the best view of your display.
As we finish this first taster, Stephan re-appears, once more you slide to the front of your chair and open your legs, this displaying must be getting to you, your knickers seem wetter and more transparent than ever. Now they merely form a glossy film over the beauty of your sex. Stephan can hardly belief his eyes, he stands frozen between the two tables and stares. You reach down between your legs, and slide a slender finger into the top of your string and lazily rub your button. All the while you look into the young waiters face.
You just smile at him and sit up again all demurely. Your hand returns to your champagne glass and sip at the deep straw coloured liquid. The chilled wine and the warm restaurant have combined to form a very heavy dew on the glass.
The dishes are cleared and the first real course arrives, a medley of assorted fish and lobster, as one course finishes, others are brought, a constant stream of staff come and go, clearing dishes, bringing food and keeping our glasses neatly filled. The staff seem to be vying to spend time waiting on are table. All the while you find ways to exhibit yourself to them. Your bottle of champagne is finished, and Pierre dutifully arrives with a replacement. The condensation on the newly filled glass is heavier than ever, and a droplet starts to run down the side, as it runs it collects more and more moisture till a sizable drop fall from your glass, and lands on your barely covered nipple. The dress instantly dissolves into a sheer and clinging layer, the dark taut flesh is perfectly clear. The cool of the condensation causes the already hard nipple to pull tighter still. An excited groan escapes your lips. You brush at your stiff nipple with your napkin, not in an attempt dry it; I'm sure, but to further excite yourself, and your ever attentive audience.
Elisa, the young waitress, comes over, "would you like a hand it that", Using a fresh napkin she delicately rubs over the wetted area. Emboldened by the lack of objection, she slips her hand inside, ostensibly to dry the damp flesh, but the napkin slips from her fingers and transparent silk allows me to watch as her fingers caress the swollen nub of flesh directly. You cover her hand, and squeeze her fingers on your nipple before stopping her play.
Thank you Eliza, I think I'll be alright.
You move to slide your chair back to get up. The ever attentive Stephan is on hand to move your chair back for you. I rise to help you up. As you turn Oliver finally gets to see the view of your now quite sheer dress top. I watch as you walk off in the direction of the ladies.
Shortly afterwards Helaina , follows after you. Eliza clears their table, and I here the murmur of a whispered conversation between Oliver and the waitress, his hand comes round and rests squarely on here nicely curved posterior.
Eventually Helaina and you return your right nipple still tantalisingly clear, you are both laughing together. Seeing Oliver is ready, she stops and As you reach the tables, the two of you kiss lightly on the lips.
I rise to greet you and you come over to kiss me too, then press me gently into my seat. You bring your left hand around and under my nose. The sent of an excited lady is quite plain.
Someone's excited. I said, it seems not only you and I have been enjoying your show.
What do you mean, you ask all innocence.
I take your right hand and bend to kiss it.
Two succulent vintages, but quite distinct, were the two of you having fun without me?
I wondered whether you'd be able to tell. Oliver's in for a treat if he kisses her. Her face is still wet from my juices. She wanted to know where I shop for dresses. Oh yes, we've been invited for drinks in their suite when we finish dinner.
More dishes followed, more opportunities to distract the staff. As we come to the end of the last of the main courses you wipe the condensation of your cold glass against your nipple, and again she springs to attention as once more the delicate silk of your dress turns quite sheer.
As Stephan finishes clearing the table, your hand has returned between your legs putting on a show for his benefit. His eyes are glued to you, his breathing is becoming ragged. Suddenly he becomes aware that you know where he's looking and he starts to shy away, with face crimson from the excitement of watching and the shame of being caught.
The lady from the next table catches him, and holds him facing you.
I don't think she'd be sitting there showing herself to you like that, if she didn't want an audience.
You reach out a brush your hand across the prominent budge in the front of his trousers with the result that he nearly drops all the plates.
Go and take those to the kitchen, then come back please Stephan, dear, I need to ask you a favour.
As he returns to our table, the mixture of fear and excitement is clear on his young face. At first he stands clear of the table, too apprehensive to approach further.
I can't talk to you there, Stephan; I don't want to shout across the whole restaurant, I need to whisper in your ear.
He comes right up to out table. Helaina moves closely in behind him to cut off his retreat. You drain your glass and then your hand snakes out, your fingers curly around the stiff protuberance in his grey trousers.
Did, I do that to you?
His only reply is a strangled half cry. He turns more to face you, his back now to the main part of the room.
You pull down his fly, and free his manhood. I slender 6 inches of livid flesh, a swollen bell end half emerging from his foreskin. The glistening of his precum obvious. You wind your fingers around his shaft and stroke back and forth.
Will this make it feel better?
He can't answer in coherent words, his body strains forward in its own desperate answer.
You will do my little favour for me won't you.
Your hand slows right down. Your fingers relax their grip.
Every muscle in his body strains against your limp hand
You will do my little favour for me won't you.
YYesss! he blurts out and your hand renews it's steady strokes.
You slide forward to the edge of your chair. your dress riding up above your waist, the beautiful vision of open lips is perfectly brought into view, your left hand drops beneath the table to mingle your aromas with the sent of Helaina's you'd brought back earlier for my delectation.
First rubbing your button, then pressing the sheer film of your thong into your hole. Helaina reaches behind you and undoes the bow holding the garment together. Now your finger enter you more easily, slowly, oh so slowly you push the sodden cloth inside your pussy, always moving your fingers back to rub your button before returning to your aching hole. All throughout this fantastic show your right hand keeps up the slow wanking action on Stephan's erect member.
Eliza has come back into our area; she's sitting on Oliver's lap intently watching the spectacle. His hand has disappeared up under her skirt and between her open legs, she is openly playing with her nipples through her top.
Helaina's face is flushed with excitement. She undoes Stephan's trousers and pulls them down to his thighs, her hand slides between his legs and massages his balls.
Your left hand keeps up the slow insertion of your knicker till just an inch of thread remains.
I need a cucumber Stephan, a whole cucumber, from the kitchen.
His face is blank
Can't you see my pussy needs some dinner too.
You do understand, don't you Stephan. Your hand quickens it's pace.
She's so, hungry, she needs filling, she can't be looked after properly here, she needs something... please, Stephan, please.
He gasps. He rises to the tips of his toes, yet stoops as his muscles clench, every sinew in his face is pulled taught, he is quite beyond speech. But understanding has dawned in his eyes. The thought is more than he can cope with.
With an animalistic cry he lets go. A great rope of his seed flies through the air splattering the floor between the two tables. The second hits the other table, the third Helaina catches in the slender neck of your Champagne flute. Spurt after spurt shoot out with diminishing vigour you struggle to keep his cock aimed into the glass. Slowly Stephan unknots, his face horror struck as he sees the mess his moment of bliss has left. His breathing regains it's rhythm and his body collapses forward, leaning on the table for support.
Ahhh shit... Shit, what will Nigel say if he sees the mess?
It won't look anything out of the ordinary in a moment, but I wouldn't mind a new napkin. Does that feel more comfortable now? You tease, your hand still working back and forth on his wilting pride. His cum running down the sides of the glass, both inside and out. Your fingers also covered with his fluid.
Of course, Stephan turns to go, quite forgetting to tuck him self back in. Fortunately your hand restrains him.
Now don't forget my little favour will you dear, I'll give you my knickers if you bring me one. Would you like to pull them out of me you'll have to be gentle, can you be gentle?
Slowly he kneels on the floor beside you, his eyes locked on your perfectly smooth pussy, his mouth hanging open. His hand shakes as he starts to pull the string.
Gently, your hand guides him as slowly out comes the garment till it hangs in his fingers tips.
Don't forget my little favour, you can have them when you bring it to me.
Helaina looks at the decorated flute, Cocktails? she asks before dividing the fruits of your labours into another glass and topping them up with the champagne.
The two of you start to drink. Helaina looks over at Oliver at Eliza, his hand is still hidden up her skirt, care for a taste Eliza? Taking a large swig from her glass Helaina bends to kiss the waitress, obviously sharing the mouthful of cum cocktail as she did so.
Stephan comes back over, looking rather guilty, he takes away the decorated napkin, and replaces it with a pristine one, and after a quick look around, produces a large cucumber from under his jacket. It's well over a foot long, and in excess of two inches across, it's smooth green flanks shine, one end is slightly bulbous like the bell end of some sexual leviathan.
Your face lights up, you look in his eyes, and pull him down for a kiss.
Why thank you, just what a lady needs, and you hand him your sodden panties as a reminder.
Stephan looks excited, unsure, confused, embarrassed... all rolled into one not unhappy face. The gift is quickly stowed away in a pocket. His eyes hungrily look down through the table, eagerly expecting the show to start but your legs are demurely together, even the set of your shoulders is keeping the your dress from giving an improper show.
I think the cheese is the next on the menu, I pipe up, although personally I would prefer to have the desert first and be left the cheese board to feast on at the end.
Deflated the waiter makes his way back to work.
Was that unkind of me? you ask.
Not at all, it's your game, where would the tease be in presenting everything at once. Do you like your little gift?
Your hands stroke its surface. Mmm I'm sure it will do just perfectly, before hiding it under your napkin.
The sommelier returns to with the pre-selected choice of port a 70 Warre's, and Eliza, her face still flushed, but her attire repaired, follows with the cheese trolley. The moment the lid is lifted, the smell wafts across the room, and we eagerly make out choices.
Can we have a rest before the desert?
As we eat this latest round of the feast we trade morsels across the table, leaning across your dress again hangs down at the front presenting your ripe breasts to my gaze. You slid forward on your chair once more, and now display your sweet lips for my delectation without even any pretence at covering. Occasionally you reach down and stroke your mound. Sometimes slipping a finger of two into your depths, I need something more than my fingers. I need to feel full, watch me.
You take your gift, and start to rub it around your wetness. The bulbous end seems huge against your charms. I watch as your lips engorge and swell apart. You rub the tip against your clitoris, before starting to push it into your welcoming depths
Oliver on the next table sitting in a line can't see much, which is too much for him, He comes over and gazes with amazement. Why don't we all adjourn to my suite here. You'd be more comfortable.
You look into my eyes, It feels so good, I'd love to do it here. If you want to watch you'll have to stay here, but I don't think Helaina wants you to block her view.
Slowly the vegetable slips in and in, till over half has disappeared from view. Your lips are stretched wide around its girth, pulled inwards by it's intrusion, the tip of your button rubbing against its surface. Your eyes are closed and blissful dreamy expression is written across your face. What man could not delight to see their lover in such a state of total arowsal? You start to withdraw the cucumber, your lips flair outwards pulled away as the invader retreats. The lips stretch further as the apex of the bulge passes through, before again you slowly push the shaft back inside. In and out it goes, your lips kissing and releasing their organic lover. Guttural noises escaping from your throat, my mind in a whirl of lust, lost in this ecstatic vision enfolding in front of my eyes. Oh how I wish we were somewhere more private, where I could bend down for a closer view, where I could kiss around the entrance to your inner self. Run my tongue around your lips and feel them stretching to accept this phallus, feel the different textures as it works in and out of you. The soft silky inner lips as you almost turn inside out as they cling to their tormentor. The velvety outer lips as they try to follow their lover into your depth. Then to work my way up to the top of your hole and there to lick your sensitive button. Alternating the strokes of my tongue between wide lapping caresses and more pointed focussed assaults on the centre of your pleasure. Trying to judge by the rapturous noises of your ecstasies and the wriggling thrusts of your loins what your body needs the most. To keep up this willing slavery to your pleasure until at last your breathing looses all rhythm and your movements become fitful as you fight desperately for your time of release. To hold on tight and ride out those last few moments continuing to give the gift of pleasure to your writhing body is one of the greatest feelings imaginable. Then as the waves of pleasure crash against you, keep up a gentle stimulation, letting your body relax onto the peaceful plateau that leads to still bigger heights.
As at last your body starts to relax and enjoy again the sensation still stimulating you, I'd work my tongue down below your sodden hole to explore your rosebud below. I'd lick around this secret place, at first clenched tightly closed. By slow and careful caresses she would start to relax, but the giant intrusion in the adjacent hole would keep me from sliding my tongue properly inside. Loved like this your tight anus would overwhelmingly taste of the juices pouring from your ecstatic cunt, but the texture of the puckered ring feels quite different. I would continue with my ministrations whilst you pump the cucumber in and out of your pussy. The fingers of your other hand rubbing hard on your button. As your next orgasm approaches, I would push harder and harder with my tongue knowing its adding to your simulation and anticipating the relaxing of your nether muscles in the wake of your cum. As your orgasm subsides the tight ring of your ass would open up and welcome my probing tongue into her depths, the taste as I slide inside is similar to the sweetness of your your beautiful pussy, but earthier, peatier almost like one of Islay's finest, certainly not unpleasant. As the tongue slides through the final barrier the texture changes, the sensation is like your first French kiss as a kid, if you can remember back to those first explorations of a lover's mouth, the feel of the skin in different places. Your deep insides being silky smooth like the underside of the tongue. Having gained admission to this hallowed portal, my tongue would keep up the stimulation until once more you cum, your powerful muscle squeezing tight down on me pinning my tongue in your depths almost painfully and locking us together till at last you relax again.
I am pulled back out of my dream by the sound of your cumming, your audience quietly urging you on. Your face racked with pleasure. Your loins thrusting against their occupier. Slowly the movements lessen, your breathing returns and at last your eyes open, a smile crosses your face.
Was that as good to watch, as to feel?
I certainly enjoyed the watching, the anticipation of the feeling added greatly to the pleasure. I can't wait.
More to come later