Lunch

He's already waiting for me when I arrive at the restaurant. I watch him watching me walk over with a smile on his face. Oh good, he's smiling. This outfit seems to have been a good choice. I wonder how much he'd be smiling if he knew I spent the morning with my fingers in my cunt imagining what it would be like to fuck him.

"You just barely made it on time."

"Yeah, but I was on time. And I was walking in heels you know."

"Why? You seem like one of those girls that brings walking shoes to the office in your bag."

"I keep them under my desk, actually." But I was certainly not going to wear Reebok's to this lunch. This is a lunch that requires fuck me shoes.

"So how is your week going?"

"Busy." Busy masturbating anyway. And imagining you masturbating while you think about me. Which leads to more masturbating.

The hostess comes to take us to our table. "This place is nice," I say. Although I probably should have suggested going to a hotel rather than going to lunch.

"This is one of my favorite places to eat outside."

"I like it." But it would be nicer if it were a little more private.

The waitress comes over to take our drink order. "Diet coke, please." For instance, if these tables had floor length table cloths. I could hide my hand under it and secretly rub my pussy while I'm talking to him.

"I'll have a diet coke also," he says.

Or better yet, I could "accidentally" drop my spoon on the ground. I could kneel down to retrieve it and disappear under the table. Run my hands up his thighs and over his cock. "So what's good here?"

"Oh, everything. I was thinking of trying the Bavarian sausage."

I was thinking of try your sausage. How shocked would you be when I unzipped you pants under the table and took your cock in my mouth? Would you wonder what you'd gotten yourself into when I ran my tongue slowly along the shaft before taking you all the way in the back of my throat? Could you pull off keeping a straight face when you come in my mouth to keep the other diners from realizing you just got sucked off under the table?

The waitress comes over to the table. "Are you ready to order?"

"Do you know what you want?"

"I most certainly do."