My Turn (A Gift)

I decide the right moment is while we're waiting for dessert to arrive. It's a small table, a crowded restaurant, and the tablecloths are long. So it's really only a small matter for me to scoot my chair closer, lean over near to you, as if I'm telling you something I want to whisper.

It's a slightly more difficult trick to take your hand in mine and guide it to my thigh to press the fingers splayed over my skin...and then inch it up. My skirt is very short, so your instinct is to pull back when I slide your fingers underneath it. I don't let you. I wriggle my body forward, turned toward the table so the tablecloth hides us, as I push your hand under my skirt and spread my legs a little. I see you register how smooth and bare it is.

I feel your fingertips caress me and I swear, I could come right then. I'm dripping, and that's the second thing you notice. I kiss you, unable to suppress a little moan and a sigh as I feel two fingers sliding into me. Your fingers curve, and I feel you pressing into me as you thumb savors the smooth feel of what I had shaved, your face showing a struggle as you try to remain nonchalant. But I can tell that I've had the desired effect..when I casually brush your thigh under the table, I can feel it.

Your thumb touches my most sensitive spot, and this time there's an instant when I really think I am going to come. I don't...not quite, but I'm close.

"Oh, look," I say. "Dessert's here." The waitress brings our chocolate mousse, and your hand slides out of me.

As she sets down the dessert, I bring your hand to my face and kiss it...a casual gesture of affection to everyone else in the restaurant. But I can smell myself, ripe and salty and invigorating. And I can taste it when I let my tongue drift along the tip of your finger. It makes me want you even more. It makes me want to fuck you. Now. It makes me want to feel you sliding inside me...where I've shaved smooth and pink for you. Just for you.

We've just paid the check when I stand up, walk over, and lean very, very close to you.

"I've got to use the ladies' room," I say, making sure my breath caresses the back of your neck.

"Me, too," you say.

That's one of the things I love about this restaurant...private restrooms. I can feel the moisture running down my inner thighs, can feel the ache where your fingers were a moment ago. I can feel my thighs trembling as I slip into the restroom.

I leave the door unlocked and pull up my skirt. It's tight and so it's not difficult to tuck it over my waist, leaving my lower half bare. I stand in front of the mirror, leaning forward awkwardly on my high heels so I can take a look between my legs, at the way I look as I wait for you...smooth, shaved, hungry. I sit on the toilet and spread my legs.

You knock on the door. When I don't answer, you offer some feeble comment, making a show of suddenly realizing there's no one in here. That means there are people waiting in line for this restroom that we're going to monopolize. Knowing that sends a surge through me.

I lock my eyes on yours when you enter. You are still hard in your slacks. I want it so bad I can feel my mouth water, feel my nipples stiffen painfully. You eyes drift down from my face, taking in the way I've shaved for you. You walk over to where I'm sitting.

I'm on you like an animal. I don't even kiss you; you don't lean down to kiss me, either. I've got your pants open in moments, and I'm bending forward, not even teasing you in the slightest. I've been teasing us both all evening, after all. You slide down my throat, your taste mixing with the taste of merlot. I hear you suppressing a moan as my mouth lingers. I savor the feeling of you thrusting inside me. Then I come up for air and swallow you again, whimpering slightly as I do. I'm hungry for it. My hand rests absently on myself, stroking, loving the way it feels, loving that it turns you on. I want to rub, hard, but I know if I do I'll come. So I don't. I just stroke my lips, caress the opening and suck you.

You have to push me off you to get your turn. You drop to your knees, not even caring that your face hovers inches from the toilet bowl as I spread my legs still wider and feel your mouth descend, your mouth caressing smooth flesh. I run my fingers across your head and tell you that I'm going to come. I'm going to do it fast, so fast...and when your tongue finds me, I know that nothing will make you stop until I do. I lean back on the toilet seat, my hips rocking slightly. When I come, I have to bite my lip so hard to keep from screaming that I'm afraid, for a moment, I' ve drawn blood.

Part of me worries that you'll be satisfied, that you'll be quick to leave now that you've made me come...knowing that other people are waiting. But that seems the furthest from your mind. Instead, you slide your arms under my shoulders and lift me off the toilet, turning me around like a rag doll as you tell me what you want. I'm yours, you know, and you're going to take me. You bend me over, my arms resting hard on the toilet tank. I lift my ass in the air and spread my legs, tottering on my high heels. I wriggle, begging for it. But I know you don't need me to beg...I've been begging all night.

I feel you, all sticky with my saliva. You meet me, sliding easily between my lips and entering me. I gasp as you thrust in; at this angle, with my ass so high in the air, your head slipping in and continuing deep to hit against my cervix. My whole body shivers as I feel it. You don't give it to me slow; you don't want to take your time. Not because time is so short, but because you can't bear to wait another instant. You give it to me hard, fast, demanding, as if you don't care about anything but filling this smooth, bare space. And that is what makes me come, even harder this time, bent over the toilet tank and moaning softly, wishing I could suppress the noise issuing from my lips...but totally unable to do so as the pleasure explodes through my body. I look at you over my shoulder, locking eyes with you, whimper that I want you to come. I want you to come inside of me.

You do, your hips pumping quickly as you explode inside me. I push back onto you, knowing that you're filling me, knowing I don't have a pair of panties with me. That thought almost makes me want to come again, but all I want right now is for you to fill me all the way, pump me full of you.

You slide out of me; your fingers give me one last fleeting caress and you fasten your pants.

Without kissing me, you move toward the restroom door. You give me one final lingering look as I stand there, high on my heels, bent over, exposed as I drip your come.

I'll get the car, you say.