I still dream of you.
Sometimes it doesn't look like you, or sound like you. But I know it's you. I can sense it.
In my dreams you are warm and real, your arms wrapped around me. You hold me tenderly, whispering in my ear, 'You look so sexy tonight. I can't wait to feel you.'
I start to feel it. It starts low in my belly, spreading outward. It makes my fingers and toes tingle, my breasts warm. I can feel my pussy start to heat up too. It gets tight and moist.
You drop your hand to my lower back, pulling me closer. I can feel your cock through the layers of denim you wear and cotton I wear. It pulses slightly, almost as if it were a separate entity you can't control.
I reach to your ass, squeezing a little. Your cock rises even more, pressing on my belly.
You push me back a step, 'Not here. Later.' Your voice is starting to get husky. I am sure I am flushing, my own voice a whisper, 'Please?'
'No. Later.' You want to, I know it. But you like to make it last, just like I do. Let it build.
We walk into the restaurant, it is cozy, shadowy, candles on the white tablecloths. Long, almost to the floor. We are seated near the back, only a few people around us. It is late, long past dinner. You order a bottle of wine, appetizers. I hear dinner selections being read. I don't listen, I can only concentrate on you. Your hand is resting on the stark white tablecloth. I place mine over it, looking at your face, into your eyes. You are holding back, I can tell. You want touch me, and I want you to touch me, need you to touch me.
You take your hand away, placing it on my thigh, tenderly, not wanting to feel my heat. I place mine over yours again, pressing it into my skin. You slide it up to that crease between my thigh and hip, pulling my skirt up, hand finding my panties. You smile at me, and take your hand away.
I try to concentrate. Would I like the lobster or filet? You answer for both, sharing a plate. And more wine of course.
Maybe that is why I am so warm, fuzzy feeling. You brush the hair off my neck, lingering on my ear. You know how the zinging is rushing through me, how sensitive my neck can be. I let my eyes close, head slightly back. Your hand is at the back of my head, tangled in my hair, pulling only a little. No one would notice, but it is like a horse, being led by its rider. I am helpless. You release my hair, my head a little more foggy.
You are smiling, eyes on my neck, my shoulder, breasts. I realize how hard my nipples are, and you have already seen it. You reach over to my far shoulder, brushing the hair off that side of my neck, letting your fingers trail over my breasts. The zinging again, making my head light.
My hand is on your leg, inner thigh, another light squeeze. You tense. I can feel your cock brush my hand, huge now, pulsing. You sigh, I can hear it, you want to touch me.
I take your hand, placing it over my crotch. The heat is intense, even I can feel it. My tiny panties are damp now, spreading to my buttocks. You slide your finger down, brushing the tiny bit of hair I let grow, before you slip it down between my pussy lips. I am really wet now. You chuckle, pressing hard on my clit before pulling your hand out.
'Now you,' you tell me. I shake my head. 'Yes. Feel it.' Your voice is so intense, almost harsh.
I drape one leg over your knee, opening my legs just enough to let you see. So you can watch. A couple at a nearby table are watching too. I look up and smile, letting them know I like it. I like when another person watches me. You reach behind me again, tugging my hair, hard. Your eyes are dark, ominous, commanding.
I pull my panties to the side, rubbing them across my aching clit. I tense, a small gasp coming from me. I look at you. You are still watching, less ominous now. Now with my other hand I cover my pussy. You pull my hand away, taking my hand, forcing my middle finger out, making a fist of the others. You push my finger down my slit, hard, forcing me. I moan a little.
'Sshh. No noise.' I look up, the waiter is approaching. You pull back, saying 'Don't move.' He wants to know if we will have dessert. Of course the lemon ice sounds wonderful. Two bowls, yes. He seems distracted, can he see? No, he thinks we are arguing. No, nothing else, thank you.
I am looking into your eyes, deep and brooding. My finger is sliding over my clit, slowly, softly, making wet, squishy noises.
'Harder, faster.' You are looking at my pussy, my finger moving too leisurely for you. 'I said, harder and faster.' Your voice is callous, desperate. I move my finger faster, now using two, jerking my hand up and down, my clit sending twinges through my hips.
The couple watching us are giggling, touching each other. They ask for their bill, rushing out the door.
The waiter is coming back with our dessert. You pull a napkin over my lap, 'Don't you dare stop, understand?' The waiter places the desserts in front of us, lingering over me. He can see I am flushed, breathless. No, I don't need any water, thank you. He looks at you, glowering slightly, angry you may have upset me. You firmly but politely tell him that will be all. He turns, reluctantly, and leaves.
'Do it, stick your finger in your pussy. I want you to. I want to watch you get off.' You are more tender now, less frightening. 'Please, let me see you cum. Please?'
I can't say no. I push you back a little so you can't touch me. Your hand goes to your cock, rubbing hard through the denim, watching my hand middle finger disappear into my wet hole. I lift my chin, biting back a moan, staring at your hand. I pull my finger out, flicking my clit. The zinging again. I put two fingers in now, deep inside. The palm of my hand rubs on my clit, the friction driving me insane. My hips grind on my finger, keeping rhythm with your hand, stroking your cock.
I push your hand away from your crotch. 'No, you watch me. No touching.'
You can only stare as I begin to eat my dessert, lemon ice. It is starting to melt, I let it trickle off the spoon onto my thigh. I move my hand away from my soaked slit. I take the spoon again, letting the lemon ice melt, tipping it so it falls on my clit, cold liquid running down my hot slit. I gasp audibly, jerking upright in my seat.
You grab both my hands, kissing the backs, finding the two fingers that were just probing my hole, sweet juices mixed with the taste and scent of lemon. You eagerly lick of the moisture, groaning quietly.
'Let's get the fuck out of here. I want to shove my cock in your wet pussy and hear you scream when you cum all over it.'
I jerk my hand back, 'Tsk, tsk, tsk. I wasn't done.'
I use one hand to open my pussy lips wide, letting you see how drenched I am. I put my fingers back on my clit, this time I go slow, first making wide circles around the hood, then smaller ones, my clit sticking out a little. Now I am getting close, my breath getting quicker. I push two fingers back in my hole, making the seat under me sticky with my juices. I ride my fingers like they were a little cock, faster and faster, the motion of my own hips getting me off.
You push my other hand away, eager to help me climax. You pinch my clit, pulling is outward, making me moan again, quietly. I look into your eyes, 'I'm close, so close. Do you still want to see me cum?' You just nod your head, completely unable to speak.
I press your hand down onto my clit, making one finger slide over it, massaging it. My two fingers are deep inside, my hips rocking back and forth. The sensation is too much, maybe the waiter will come back, someone may tell the manager. I can't stand it, can't hold back anymore.
'Now, I'm cumming now.' I bite my lip, the waves of pleasure spreading over my body, pussy clenching on my fingers. You rub faster and harder in my clit, making me cum again, hips jerking on my fingers. I groan, panting now, pulling my fingers out, pussy spasming again. You glide your finger down to my pussy, sticking it in, feeling it clenching around your finger. You put your finger to my mouth, I suck it. I wish it were your dick, wet with my cum.
'You get me so hard, you know that? Now, let's go. I want to hear you cry out my name while you ride my dick.'
We pay the bill, making our escape. Yes, dinner was fine, thank you. Of course we will come again. Very soon.