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!”

The Terrace Part 1

We had arranged to meet for dinner at the exquisite 4 star restaurant “The Terrace” to celebrate your recent promotion at work. Executive marketing director. You sounded thrilled over the phone when you called to tell me, and I was thrilled for you. You had been working so hard to move up in the ranks and your well earned success was finally coming to you. Our reservations were at 8:30 but you texted me just as I arrived at the restaurant to inform me that you would be a little late…”Will b a few mins late. Dreadful business attire. Slipping n2 something else. Wait 4 me?”.

The hostess approached just as I texted back a quick “Of course, don’t be long” and clicked my phone closed. “Reservations?” she asked with that honey sweet inflection most hostess’s have. “Yes, I called for an 8:30 reservation, Nichols?”. She scanned the reservation list and found my name and inquired about the reservation being for two. “My girlfriend is running a little late, she’ll be arriving soon” and with a far too bubbly “wonderful! Right this way” she led me to a candlelit table in a dim corner of the sparsely populated restaurant.

The restaurant was beautiful. Sparkling, immaculate crystal light fixtures hung like giant diamonds from the ceiling, though for their size, the lighting they offered was minimal. Perfectly pressed, pristine linen tablecloths covered every table…candles casting dancing shadows onto their surface. The ambiance of the room was dark, sultry, romantic.

I sat down at the table and took the initiative to order a bottle of wine while I waited for you to arrive—23 minutes and a glass and a half later you appeared. I paused mid-sip of my wine to drink you in, my dark eyes flickering, a smile forming at the rim of my glass before I sat it down on the table, enraptured by the sight standing before me. You were wearing a dangerously short black skirt that clung to your curves like a second skin. As if the length of the skirt weren’t tempting enough, a provocative slit up the side provided the most delicious glimpse of the top of your smooth, toned thigh. I felt my breath catch in my chest for a moment as my eyes continued boldly roaming over your frame, devouring you. Your blouse was a delicate, sheer black number with a low plunging neckline that showcased your cleavage perfectly, and the most subtle outline of your nipples was apparent beneath.

“Wow! You are looking positively scrumptious!” I exclaimed as I rose from the table chivalrously, hugging you then placing a gentle hand on the small of your back as I pulled out a seat for you, next to mine…rather than the cold, impersonal “across the table” kind of dining, I preferred dining with you as close to me as possible, it’s always been that way. I want, no, I need your presence near me, your mere proximity does something indescribable to me…you slid into your seat with the majestic gracefulness of a slick feline, you carry sexy so well. Your full lips spread into an ingratiating smile as an almost shy giggle escaped you and you averted your eyes to say “Thank you, I’m sorry I kept you waiting…it’s a special occasion, I just wanted to dress it up a little”. I slid into the seat beside you, returning your smile with a warm smile of my own “No apologies baby, it’s your night, I’ve would’ve waited as long as I had to in order to celebrate it with you”…with that declaration I leaned towards you and placed a lingering kiss on your cheek and whispered “congratulations” into your ear. You squirmed in your seat a little as the heat of my breath kissed your earlobe and another smile danced across my lips. I sat back up straight in my chair and poured you a glass of wine and then topped off my own. We sipped and talked as we waited for our server to appear, our body language, our smiles, the range of looks passed between us would tip off any attentive observer that you and I were much more than friends. Though, I didn’t really care who may be observing our exchange, I was lost in you…no one existed in my world right now, but you.

Dinner was exquisite. We picked at our food as the wine flowed freely, making lustful eyes at each other as we ate…feeding each other a bite here and there for the simple pleasure of watching the other take the food from the sparkling silver dinnerware—eyes locked as an electric passion was silently conveyed between us. Feeding each other is such a sensual, sexual act to me.

As we ate my hand would slip beneath the table and rest on your mostly exposed thigh, squeezing my fingertips into your flesh gently. I would smile as my fingertips fluttered lightly, tracing intricate patterns on your thigh and playfully reaching higher as you looked around nervously. “What are you doing?!” you asked, your voice thick with false indignation at the very same time your lips curled up in what you thought was a discreet smile. But I saw it, nervous though you may be…you were enjoying my secret explorations beneath the table—hidden, yet fully exposed to the other wandering eyes in the restaurant.

The only response I gave you was a wry, little smile…I was going to keep going, until you verbally told me to stop, and meant it or until….

You continued to pick over your food, trying to maintain an air of innocence above the table as my hand moved deftly upward beneath the table, a gentle, warm, flat palm against the inside of your thigh, urging them quietly apart. You shifted in your seat, nervousness gripping you once more and you squeezed your thighs shut, trapping my searching hand between them for a moment. I gazed into your eyes, my dark, adoring eyes speaking to you, urging you…coaxing you with the depth of desire in my stare.

I bit my bottom lip and gave my fingers a wiggle between your thighs, and slowly you released your grip on my hand, your toned legs parting as your reservations crumble beneath my craving. I watched your face closely as my fingers traced their way up your creamy flesh, your heat radiating so strongly that I could feel how hot you were before ever touching your sex. I smiled at you, picking up my wine glass with my left hand and taking a sip...in order to avert any suspicious eyes, or perhaps the excitement of the moment just had me feeling slightly parched.