I’ve been looking forward to our date for three weeks now, ever since I made the reservations and you told me you were going to get a new dress for it. You’ve been coy about what it looks like, but you keep letting me catch you looking at different stockings and strapless bras, musing about which ones match. Finally, the day comes, and I’m so excited I have to circle the parking lot in front of your building so I don’t knock on your door too early.
You answer the door to find me in gray slacks and a button-down blue shirt, matching my eyes perfectly. My jaw drops as I drink you in: high heels, tight, sheer stockings, and the dress. Black. Hugging your hips as tight as I like to hug them. Barely down to mid-thigh. V-neck, with those loops of fabric that manage to at once hide and accentuate your bust.
“Wow. Amazing… So you were just teasing me with those strapless bras,” I say. You smile, and spin to show me its open back.
“Yep! It’s built-in, so I didn’t need one at all,” you purr. I take a step forward and reach for you, but you step back and lift a finger to my lips. “No sir! You promised me a date, and I know how you operate!”
I smile and step back as well, trying to lower my heart rate. I can feel myself throbbing just looking at you. “The only thing that looks better than you in that dress, is you out of that dress,” I say. I offer my arm, and you loop yours through it. I make sure we walk slowly through your building’s lobby, letting everyone take a good look and smiling to each other at all the double-takes you receive.
As we drive to the restaurant, and as we find our table, I keep noticing little details of your outfit. The lace across the shoulders. How it doesn’t seem to catch on a panty line. How the folds in front offer just a hint of cleavage, from the right angle – an angle you seem to be trying to give me. I notice the maitre’d trying to catch a glimpse, and the waiter seems to stand a little too close to your shoulder as he takes our orders. It’s dark and quiet, as this type of fancy restaurant tends to be, and the candlelight in our booth gives you a glowing, radiant appearance.
“I hope you’re not too uncomfortable with all this extra attention,” I say.
“Not tonight. I wore this dress for a reason,” you say. “I’m just glad that you like it.”
“And I do! I’ll have to give you more excuses to go shopping.”
You smile and excuse yourself, walking to the ladies room. You might as well be a flame passing through a swarm of moths, the way heads turn to follow you. The same thing happens in reverse as you return and sit back down across from me. I notice you adjusting your seat, perhaps a little aggressively, then casually knock your fork from the table and drop your hands to your lap.
“Oops,” you say, not seeming sorry at all.
“Don’t worry, I’ll get it,” I say. I kneel down from the chair and reach for it, but something under the table catches my eye. Your foot is swinging back and forth, and something, deep red, is dangling from your toes. I reach forward and as my hands close over the soft lace, I realize what it is. Your thong is skimpy, clearly tight, and a hint of wetness darkens the face of it. I glance up and see your hands: one pulling your skirt up, and one slowly reaching down and drawing up along your glistening pussy. I have to remind myself not to dive forward for my own taste right there, and try to rise back up so quickly I bump my head.
“Careful, silly,” you say softly, your eyes big and tongue brushing against your lower lip, barely visible. I tuck your panties into my pocket.
“I did have to be careful – I almost went in for an appetizer,” I say. You smile and reach back up across the table for my hands.
“Aww, aren’t you the sweetest,” you say. I take your hands and kiss your long fingers, inhaling deeply, touching your fingertips with my tongue.
“Hmm. I think you take that title,” I say. You give the coy smile again and start to look through your purse. “Oh!” you say in a more normal conversation tone. “I forgot my phone. Will you come with me to get it?”
“Of course.” We rise from the table and I follow you out to the dark parking lot, to my car in the far corner of the lot. You walk to the driver’s side, facing away from the street and restaurant and bordered by a tall, thick shrub. I wonder why you’re there, when you sat on the other side, but fumble in my pockets for the keys. As I do, you push me against the car door and press your chest into mine.
“Let me help,” you say, your hands diving into my pockets and head tilting up, almost for a kiss. Your fingers aren’t searching for the keys, but I’m too busy trying to meet your lips to care. My fingertips drag up your spine to your neck, dragging along your jaw and ear and finally closing our mouths together as you reach deeper and I feel your fingertips brushing against my stiffening shaft.
“Let’s get this master key out,” you say, working on my belt and then fly. “I hope you don’t mind if I need a little appetizer, too.” I can barely respond as my pants fall away and you wrap your hands around my cock, squeezing and stroking, smiling as you feel me throb and harden in your hands.
I slowly turn us around to push you up against the car, you yelp slightly as the cold metal touches your back. “Shhhh,” I whisper, kissing you again. My hands cup your breasts through the thin fabric of your dress, then pull at the loops to expose them. Still kissing, I feel you moaning onto my tongue as my thumbs brush over your nipples. Your hands squeeze me tighter, stroking gently, and I drop my hands to your hemline.
“I believe you ordered the sausage appetizer, madame?” I say as I start to roll up your dress. You laugh at my line, and our eyes meet as our tongues lash out for each other. I duck my head to kiss your breasts, then lower to suck your nipples.
“MMMMmmm, yes I did,” you say as your fingers run through my hair, pulling me back up for a deep kiss. “The thick, hot one.”
“At your service,” I say as I feel your hips pushing out towards me. We both moan involuntarily as you start rubbing my head against your clit, pushing it down to ride back up your slit, down and up, down and up. As you push down again, I shift my hips and we gasp as I enter you deeply.
I push our heads together, hoping to stifle the moans with a kiss, and feel your leg hook around my hips. As I hold your head with one hand, my other drops to your ass and squeezes firmly, as you start to grind against me. I match your hips, pushing and thrusting and almost pulling out, before sliding all of me back in and grinding against your hips. You break the kiss as you start to pant, dropping your head into my shoulder and clawing at my back. I start to thrust harder, turned on by how turned on you are, and feeling myself start to throb and build to climax.
“Oh god,” I whisper into your ear, nibbling at it. You turn up and push your tongue into my mouth, pulling back only long enough to whisper, “Give it to me,” before working your hips harder against mine. I try to hold back, but push into you deep, and my tongue pushing back against yours, and erupt inside you. You moan back onto my tongue as I try to keep quiet, your moans longer and deeper than my uncontrollable orgasmic ones, but both of us keeping quiet thanks to our tight, deep kiss. You pull me closer with your leg as you feel me spurting hot, thick cum deep into you, and hold me there as I come back to earth, panting and kissing your neck.
“Mmm…thank you,” you whisper as you release me and I step back, out of breath. You lean down to kiss my wet head. “I’m sure I’ll see you again soon,” you tell it.
Straightening back up, you unroll your dress and tuck your breasts back into the dress. I pull up my pants and tuck in my shirt, hoping my erection won’t be too noticeable as we return to our table. Our food is waiting for us.
“Ohh, my favorite!” you say as we sit down. “A thick, juicy slab of meat, and a rich cream sauce to go with it.”
I wink. “I can’t wait to see what’s on the dessert menu.”