Volunteer editor Regderd. Editor was quick, thorough and a pleasure to work with.
*****
From my corner booth, I look out around me at the people clustered in ones and twos, enjoying a mug of java and quiet conversation. Their voices mingle and intertwine with the blare from the jukebox in the corner. I sip from my own cup and absently watch the cook behind the counter working her magic at the grill, tending a few hamburgers and a steak. I let the minutes drag and stretch. How could a simple question scatter my thoughts? Just a couple hours ago in the darkness of our room, candlelight dancing on our skin, we lay with legs intertwined basking in an afterglow of erotic ecstasy. In my mind I still see the rich deep chocolate of his eyes, feel the brush of his lips on my skin and hear his voice huskily ask, "What is your fantasy?"
The question sent a thrill through me when he asked, but my mind went blank. Now as I bring the mug to my lips I see him come through the diner entrance and slowly make his way over to me. Our eyes meet, and he gives me an easy smile as he slides in beside me in the booth.
His question echoes in my mind and possibilities bloom in rapid fire. The wetness pools between my thighs. I can feel the difference in my breathing. Can he hear my heartbeat slamming in my chest? I lay my hand on his, intertwining our fingers, feeling the warmth of his palm on my bare thigh and the edge of my skirt. He reaches out to make his coffee, a drop of creamer and just so much sugar. Again I let my gaze wander to the other patrons. The booths to either side are empty, stirring my thoughts.
Slowly I trace a finger on the back of his hand and say to him, in a voice just above a whisper, "I've always wondered what it would be like to be naughty. I want to...call you master."
Even though his coffee is cooling, he turns to look at me. His eyes playful, a grin tugs at the corners of his mouth.
The tender skin of my inner thigh tingles as I slowly pull his hand under the hem of my skirt. Trying to be stealthy I scoot down in the booth just a little and feel the tips of his fingers graze my wet pussy lips. I see his grin as he slowly pulls his hand away. Never breaking eye contact, he brings his fingers to his lips and gives a quick lick at the wetness glistening there. I intake a sharp breath. I've had enough coffee and want to leave.
It's never that simple. He picks up the spoon and gives his coffee a quick stir. As he reaches to put his arm around me, I whisper, "I'm ready, let's go."
"In a bit," he replies. "Stay wet for me."
A waitress wanders by and he holds out his cup. A second later she's past us.
A part of me wants to draw his hand back, to pull his fingers into me. He watches me, my internal struggle evident. "Patience, my love," he says to me, again resting his hand on my thigh.
After what seems like hours later, he lays a couple bills on the table and he leads me out into the parking lot, opening the door for me to climb into the front seat. He leans in and kisses me, squeezing a nipple through my shirt. With a grin he backs away, closing the door and making his way to the driver's side. As he slides the key in the ignition, I lean over reaching my fingers to his lips. He opens his mouth and I intake a sharp breath as he sucks and caresses my fingers with his tongue. With a wicked grin I pull my fingers back, prop a leg against the door and pull my skirt up about my waist. The streetlight reveals the smooth skin and swollen lips glistening with my juices. As he backs out and pulls out of the parking lot, I begin caressing the protruding nub of my clit. I close my eyes but feel him watching me. I moan softly and increase the tempo, feeling the tendrils of desire fan a flame within me.
