It was one of the happiest days of my life when my son, Rob, called and told me that he'd proposed to his girlfriend. I'd never met her, since they lived 3 states away from me, but he'd told me a lot about her over the past 6 months that they'd been dating.
He told me how amazing she was and how beautiful she was, and I was left to only imagine it. I have to admit, I did. I'd been alone for a while now after divorcing my wife. It was an ugly breakup and I was left not really wanting to date. Oh, I spent time with the occasional woman, but not really dating. So I spent a lot of time in my imagination and my imagination typically involved her, at least my vision of her. Although I had no idea what she looked like, my imagination could fill in the details.
My son mentioned that they were going to be in town for a couple of days and wanted to invite me to dinner to meet her. I agreed whole-heartedly and we agreed to meet that coming Friday. The restaurant was a pretty expensive place, one of the most expensive restaurants in the city. But I figured he must be able to afford it somehow.
We were a pretty wealthy family. My business was good and growing, we lived in a really nice house in a nice neighborhood. And my son had gone to a good ivy-league school. But I had decided long ago that I wouldn't subsidize his life. He was going to have to earn it himself.
I took a little more time than normal getting dressed for the dinner, wanting to make a good impression and... well... secretly hoping to find her as I imagined. I wore a crisp, white shirt with a solid, charcoal grey tie. I slipped on my suit jacket and looked in the mirror, liking what I saw.
I kept myself in pretty good shape, with a small gym in the basement and a membership at one of the local gyms as well. I worked out almost every single day. I thought I was in pretty good shape for an old guy.
We met at the restaurant and I was taken aback the moment I entered and spotted them across the floor. She was far more gorgeous than my son described... and dressed to show off her incredible body. I smiled at my son as they stood to greet me, and gave him a big hug.
"Dad, this is Emmanuelle," my son said, introducing me to his fiance. I turned and held out my hand to shake her's. She was a petite woman with a radiant smile. Her hand was soft and her posture was very feminine. Yet she acted so confident and sure of herself. I sat in the booth across from her, with my son between us.
I couldn't help watching her as we sat talking, my son and her playing at the table, kissing, obviously touching under the table. I found myself a little jealous and a little... turned on. She was wearing a red dress that slid over her breasts and met low, inches above her belly-button, emphasizing her deep cleavage and lack of bra. It attached with a loop behind her head. Her dress accentuated her blond hair, but most of all her large breasts, which I couldn't help but notice. I was drawn to them over and over again. They almost spilled out with every move she made. She looked too young and innocent to have such an incredible body.
We talked about how they met at a college bar, how she came up to him and how he eventually asked her out. We talked about how he selected and bought the perfect ring and how he proposed to her while out to dinner. It was odd to me that she directed most of the conversation, letting Rob fill in details now and then. She was definitely a person that was in control at all times.
We'd been talking for about an hour, receiving and finishing our drinks and our dinners, when Rob asked Emmanuelle if he could get out and use the restroom. She smiled, slid out of the booth, and stood to give him room to exit. I couldn't help but glance at her breasts as they bobbed every time she moved. I was almost hoping that they'd spill out on accident. God, she was incredibly sexy!
But when Rob slipped out and stood, my eyes met her's and I realized I was busted. She just smiled as Rob kissed her cheek and left the table. She slid back into place with a knowing smile on her face, her eyes not leaving mine. Even though I was so much older than her, I barely had the guts to look her in the face. That smirk was so condemning.
So casually it was almost natural, she brought her hand up in front of her chest and began playing with the material of her dress. My eyes couldn't look anywhere else. I was captivated.
"You see something you like," she said softly. A statement, not a question. She teased, pulling at the material as if going to expose her breast before replacing it. "Watch this," she whispered and pulled one side of her dress aside, exposing her wonderous breast. Although it was firm, her hand cupped and lifted it a little. "Like them?" she asked, smirking.
I must have looked surprised by her brazen move.
She giggled. "Oh, you're so cute when you blush." She slid her fingertip around her nipple and pinched, moaning softly. My eyes couldn't look away. "Tell me you like my boobs."
My mouth felt dry and I licked my lips. "I like your boobs," I whispered meeting her eyes for a second before dropping back to her breast.
"I could tell. You haven't been able to keep your eyes off them all night." She moaned softly as she pinched and pulled at her exposed nipple. "You know, I'd love to show you them more often," she whispered. "More... intimately. I can imagine your lips on them... your tongue swirling around and around... making them so hard and sensitive."
I was imaging the same thing myself. I was imagining her finger was my tongue... her pinching was my lips sucking hard, my teeth nibbling softly.
"That would feel so amazing," she said, dipping her finger in her water glass and swirling the cold water droplets around her nipple. It made it even harder and more prominant. "And I bet you're probably thinking about more than just my boobs. I think you're imagining my pussy, too. I think you're imagining me masturbating for you, right here, under the table. Maybe you're thinking about my hand sliding into my lap." I watched as she slid her hand from her breast and dropped it into her lap, hidden from view. "Maybe you're thinking about my hand pulling my dress up, slowly, inching it higher and higher until it's above my knees, then sliding underneath it. Maybe you're thinking about my fingers sliding inside my panties, sliding along my wet pussy and teasing my clit with just the tip of my fingers."
I watched her arm move, showing me that she was doing exactly what she was talking about. She licked her lips as she seemed to get more and more excited.
"You know what I'm thinking about?" she asked.
I could only look at her, practically dumbfounded that she was doing this.
"I'm thinking about how hard your cock must be getting. I bet it's getting really, really big, isn't it?" She smiled, devilishly, and bit her lower lip seductively. "So very hard."
I felt my cock throbbing in my dress slacks, as if on cue. Yeah, she was exciting me. But I'd seen this kind of acting before. And I wasn't fooled. She was a cock tease, and probably used it to get guys to buy her things. Unlucky for her, once I figured her out, I was immune to her ploy. Mostly.
"You're thinking about my pussy getting all wet and juicy, aren't you? You're thinking about my fingers... mmmm... sliding inside... oh yeah... inside my pussy, as I finger myself." I watched as her arm moved, very obviously doing exactly what she was talking about. She was really masturbating in the restaurant. "Oh god that feels so good."
We sat at the table, staring at each other, our eyes locked as she continued masturbating. She alternated closing her eyes, scrunching her face, and then opening them wide and smiling. She licked her lips as she neared what I thought was her impending orgasm.
