Fingering in the Restaurant

In a crowded restaurant, just us two,
Nobody noticing what we do.
His hand on my thigh, a gentle graze,
Whispering secrets that my body obeys.

The food arrives, a delicious feast,
But his touch on my leg, it doesn't cease.
I speak my mind, losing my train of thought,
As his hand explores, the moment caught.

He listens, intrigued, his touch now intense,
His fingers between my legs, making sense.
Words fade away, replaced by pleasure's call,
A kiss so soft, breaking down my wall.

The waiter interrupts, dessert in sight,
But he watches me eat, a pure delight.
Conviction returns as the plate is cleared,
He catches the waiter's eye, the end is near.

My mind consumed by this sweet desire,
He whispers, "Touch yourself," setting me on fire.
With no hesitation, I follow his lead,
His fingers deep inside, fulfilling my need.

Every element fuels my desire,
The secrecy, the summer's warming fire.
My dress hitched up, exposing my desire,
My fingers on my clit, setting me on fire.

But his fingers, oh his fingers, they steal the show,
Knowing just how to move, passion begins to flow.
He growls in my ear, "Cum for me, my dear,"
And in that moment, release is near.