The Terrace Part 2

My fingertips roamed slowly between your thighs, each sensual flutter getting closer, closer to their intended target—like a gentle winged butterfly searching for the perfect flower to land upon. The closer I got, the more intently I watched your face. I was slightly amused by the way you were trying so very hard not to be noticed…but I was close enough to hear your breath quicken then catch in your chest, close enough to watch your lips part in that certain way…that a stranger wouldn’t recognize, but I knew your lips only parted that certain way when you were in the midst of pleasurable, physical activities. I traced the tip of my tongue slowly around my lips to moisten them as you shifted your gaze to my eyes in an effort to avoid what you no doubt perceived to be the prying eyes of millions.

I held your gaze, my steady smile and my eyes reassuring you as my fingers traced delicately up the center of your sex, your moist, lace panties clinging into the cleft between your lips, becoming trapped in the softness of your folds. I felt your body jerk ever so slightly as my fingers brushed over your clit, the thin lacey fabric of your panties lending a texture to my touch that made your thighs quiver. You break our gaze and glance around the room, sure that someone is watching and just saw you react that way…though, that possibility was starting to excite you more than unnerve you, I could tell you were beginning to relax as I felt your thighs spread a little further beneath the table, allowing free and unhindered movement of my hand.

I teased you beneath the table, wickedly enjoying our semi-public perversions…I curled a single finger behind the sheer front panel of your panties and gave them the most gentle tug, sawing the lace between your swollen lips, applying just the right amount of pressure to your clit as I hold you there for a moment—a muted, secretive gasp slipping from your lips. I feel your hips rolling almost imperceptibly, but I feel it baby…the way you push yourself against my grip, causing your panties to tighten and rub harder against your sensitive clit as your wetness slowly seeped, eventually soaking the lace in your creamy emissions.

My eyes rest, sparkling upon your beautiful face, my lips turned up slightly at the edges in a soft, seductive, perpetual smile as I release my grasp on your panties and slip my hand beneath them, cupping your sex possessively as my fingers melted into the molten heat pouring from within you…you rocked your hips forward and two fingers slipped into your depths, seeking the source of your fire. My fingers swirled, dipping and exploring, fingertips curling inside of you and scooping out your nectar to bathe and soothe your aching clit.

I could hear your breathing becoming quicker, more labored as you struggled in vain to deny the pleasure of my touch, trying so hard to maintain your composure as I tried so hard to unwind you, stroke by stroke beneath the table.

I could hear the softest sounds of your wetness as my fingers thrust deeper into you, scissoring inside you and making you feel impossibly full as the heel of my hand pressed deliciously into your clit, grinding into you as the tips of my fingers stroked every ridge, every velvet fold, every detail of your clenching sex…coaxing your wetness out of you and deliberately teasing your pulsing clit until it felt so tight, like a firm, juicy berry about to burst at the peak of ripeness.

Suddenly your thighs quake and you grasp the edge of the table, still trying your damnedest to retain your composure as your juices begin to flow, covering my fingers in a flood of liquid fire. I clenched my teeth to try to retain my own composure as I felt your walls rippling around my fingers, my nostrils flaring as it takes every bit of restraint I have to keep from scooping you out of your chair and shoving my tongue down your throat, or sweeping my arm across the table to lay you down and take you right here.

I stayed inside you until I felt your rhythmic clenching subside, until the luscious spasms receded, and slowly, reluctantly drew my slightly pruned fingers out of you, that perpetual smile still playing on my lips as I bring my fingers secretly beneath my nose to inhale the bouquet of my sweet flower. I kissed the tips of my fingers catching the faintest taste of your rousing essence and flashed you a wink full of promise of continuing our celebration behind closed doors.

I watched you with twinkling, amused eyes as you squirmed in your seat as I leisurely finished my glass of wine—I enjoyed watching you squirm, knowing that beneath the table you sit shrouded in delectable wetness, knowing that this little dinner….was merely foreplay. “Check please!”