The Diner

My lover, I can't wait to see you again. I see you in my dreams, feel you inside me when I wake as if you had been there. It has been such a long time since I've felt your touch on my skin. I feel as though I have been wandering through the desert all these years searching for you.

I can't wait until I see you face to face. The thought of touching you overwhelms me so greatly, it's almost unbearable. I can almost feel your body next to me, your hand sliding up my thigh as we sit in a coffee shop on the corner, in a back booth you specifically requested. The venue is nearly empty at this time of day, just a couple bored waitresses and an old man sitting at the counter nursing his cup of coffee.

We sit side by side in the booth with our backs to the others. I imagine you reach over to me, slide your hand up the length of my thigh pushing against the cotton fabric of my panties, reach just inside the elastic, and trace them up to the bones in my hip.

Your head bends to mine and you place sweet soft kisses on my neck, breathing deeply to take in my scent. As you do this I reach my hand over to find that you are aroused and straining against your pants.

You whisper in my ear, "I want you. Here. Now."

"How?" I reply. "It's broad daylight...here are people here."

I am suddenly apprehensive, not sure what you are expecting. You flash a wide grin that I think is for me, but quickly realize is for the waitress approaching our table with the pie and coffee we ordered. Your hand remains under my skirt, but I quickly jerk mine back, hitting the table with my elbow and causing the dishes to clatter. The waitress glares at me.

"You know what?" you say to her with your eyes on mine, "I think we're good here for a little while."

Smiling, you slide a bill across the table to her and give her a wink. Although I see obvious disapproval, your charm and the sizable tip has bought her silence. She flashes you a weak grin anyway and returns to the counter.

"Now, where were we?"

Your attention focuses on me like a laser, causing my panties to dampen. Your right arm reaches around me over the back of the booth, and you twist around with your left, sliding that hand up under my thin summer blouse. Your fingertips feel warm against my skin and quickly find my nipple, rolling and teasing it gently until it stands up.

Closing my eyes I sigh, "oh, no...not here, this isn't fair."

"What's not fair?" you ask innocently, wrapping your fingers around to cup my breast. I feel that if I so much as move the wrong way I will cum right then.

I imagine that your left hand moves upward toward my throbbing lips of my pussy. I can feel the heat from the fingers through my thin cotton panties. You rub my clit through the fabric and lean in my direction until your mouth is up against my ear. I feel your hot breath and the dampness of your lips as you whisper right into my ear.

"I'm so fucking hot for you. Can you feel this? Gimme your hand. Feel my dick. I'm hard as a rock over here. That's because of you, y'know. I need you right now. I want to fuck you right now."

I cup my hand around the bulge in your pants, respectable by any standard, hard as a rock indeed. I rub up and down through your jeans until it dawns on me that you are moving your finger in small circles around my clit. It's all I can do not to cry out loud. Then, you stroke up and down with your left hand as the right one pulls closer around my shoulders and rubs my breast.

I sink down a bit in the booth to provide you easy access to my opening. You move your hand down through the waistband of my panties, causing me to gasp at the actual touch. I have waited for this moment for what seems a lifetime. I buck my hips up closer to feel your fingers inside me, bracing my feet on the linoleum floor.

By this time, I am sure I am dripping wet and my panties are soaked. I feel the vinyl of the booth dampen beneath me. You slide in first one finger, pumping it slowly in and out, making sure to cup your hand over my mound. You smile and look me in the eyes.

"You shave down there. Just like the young girls do, huh? You wanna be a sexy cunt like all those girls? Shaving your beave? Yeah, you're a naughty girl." You insert a second finger and begin to finger fuck me, slowly at first.

"It feels like velvet. My. God. It is so fuckin' soft," then a with a sigh and a soft "fuck me, ooooh shit," just under your breath, you lower your head to nip at my right nipple, licking and kissing at it through the fabric of my blouse before unbuttoning it to the waist so you can see the tops of my breast over my bra.

Your hand is moving more quickly between my legs, three fingers inserted, crooked to hit just the right spot. As they move in and out, in and out I know I am close and wonder how I am going to disguise my screams of pleasure.

I suddenly lose my breath and I say to you, "so....close...shit....don't stop....I can't...." and then you jam your right hand sideways into my mouth to muffle the sound as I cum harder than I can remember. Wave after wave washes over me and I lean my head back in an attempt to keep it under control. I shudder and shake, breathing in through my nose, emitting a slight "ahhh ah ahhh" of breath, but otherwise not letting out so much as a whimper. When you remove your hand, I sit and enjoy the feeling that has washed over me, biting my lower lip to keep from screaming an obscenity.

The feeling is every bit as delicious as I remember it being. You remove your hand from under my skirt, bringing it up to my mouth for a taste of the juices. Then you sit back and enjoy my basking with a smile on your face. I slowly lick each of the three fingers you had inside me. The fingers that had brought me so much pleasure, I make love to them with my mouth.

At this point, remembering the pie and coffee, you feed me a bite of the pie, picking up a bite with your fingers and offering it up to my mouth. As I close my lips around your fingers, I taste my juices intermingled with the warm cinnamon flavor of the pie.

You sit up and say, "c'mon, scoot on out."

"What? Why?" I question. You pick up the remainder of the pie in your hand, look at me with those big blue eyes and say, "My turn," then nod your head toward the men's room door in the back corner of the diner. "I am going to fuck that tight little pussy good," you whisper as we slide out of the booth together.

Or at least, that's how I imagine it would go.