Daring Erotica
"The Restaurant," a sex story by Claudia Melmoth
Sitting in the restaurant - a nice place, tablecloths, low light, in an intimate corner ... Side by side they sit. She has purposely worn a wrap-over dress. Worn it, on purpose. She isn't wearing any underwear. To the Observer at a nearby table they are a coy couple holding hands under the table, hands held safe under the cloth. In that nice place with its low light, in that intimate corner.
She is turned slightly to face him. Her head propped by her right hand. He is close to her, whispering into her ear. To the Observer they are talking about Everyday Stuff. The Observer doesn't know he is telling her how much he likes the idea of her touching herself in public, under that tablecloth, in that nice place with its low light, in the intimate corner.
She takes her fingers from the wet place and draws the wetness over his cheek in an observed gesture of affection. She runs the scented finger across his lips and pushes one into his mouth. Then under his nose. The Observer thinks 'how sweet they are ...'
He replaces her fingers with his. Positioning his body just so, positioning it so he can touch her freely under the tablecloth, in this nice place, in that intimate corner. He talks to her, touches her, plays with her, leaning closer. He can smell her desire. The Observer thinks 'how close they are!' How sweet ...'
Her eyes and breathing tell him that she could cum at any moment. He stops. Sits back. Her eyes bright with wanting, wanting the unfinished business. Unfinished under the tablecloth, under the low light, in that intimate corner. He leans to kiss her. He pushes her hand back under the tablecloth. Holds her hand there. He whispers to her that she will finish the business herself, her fingers under his hand. She always does as she is told. Always. The Observer thinks 'How sweet! See how her body shakes with laughter .. See how she throws back her head ... How sweet.'
Originally published November 2007 - "Lust"