Valentino's Italian Bistro

Tino, the owner and maitre d' at Valentino's Italian Bistro, gently draped Sasha and John's coats over his forearm and held them out to the hostess. "Please hang these while I seat our guests." He instructed her.

"Signorina?" Tino offered Sasha his elbow, through which she hooked her arm, and he escorted the couple to their usual corner table at the intersection of the two burgundy leather banquettes, John following behind them. Tino pulled the table out from the corner so Sasha and John could seat themselves, and then unfolded their napkins before placing them in the diners' laps. Sasha's short black cocktail dress had slid far up her hips as she sat, and Tino draped her napkin softly over her exposed upper thigh.

"So nice to see you both this evening -- we're always excited when you come. Would you like the usual?" Tino asked?

"Yes," John replied, "a bottle of pink champagne, per favore. No hurry."

"I will tell your server, enjoy your meal." Tino said, giving the couple an exaggerated wink before returning to the hostess stand.

"It's nice to be regulars and get the VIP treatment, isn't it?" Sasha asked.

"They like us here." John replied. "It's a symbiotic relationship."

Fifteen months earlier, the couple had made their first reservation at Valentino's Italian Bistro. Just by dint of good fortune, the host had seated them at the corner table. It wasn't a completely random decision on his part -- the host stand has a clear line of sight to that table, and Sasha was as gorgeous a piece of eye-candy as he'd seen that week. Sasha was half Vietnamese, half white. Lean, with smooth skin that tanned easily. She was five-and-a-half feet tall -- five-foot eight in her heels, beautiful large dark eyes, high cheeks, and a button nose; shoulder length wavy brown hair, perky round breasts unburdened by any bra that evening, and long lean legs well-exposed by her little white party dress. The fabric of her dress became diaphanous in the right light, and the round curve of Sasha's bottom -- as well as the back of her black lace thong -- came in and out of view as she walked through the columns of light beaming down from each of the restaurant's ceiling lamps.

John was nothing to sneer at himself -- tall, muscular, and handsome. He looked sharp in the blue suit he wore that evening. But the host couldn't take his eyes off of Sasha, and he made sure to offer her the banquette seat that faced directly towards the host stand.

The host seemed to be paying them extra attention -- personally delivering two glasses of pink champagne when John told him that it was their anniversary. And when at the host stand, he regularly turned his gaze to their table, which was not lost on Sasha.

"I think the host has a crush on me," she said to John, giggling, before slurping one of the dozen fresh oysters they had ordered to start.

"Yeah?" John said, peeking over his shoulder at the host stand, where the host was talking on the phone and writing in the reservation book.

"He's been very attentive -- and every time I look over there, he's looking right at me. I think he's trying to see up my dress, actually." Sasha laughed again.

"Really?" John asked, eyes widening. "Well, that dirty little bastard!" He said with a chuckle, clinking his champagne flute to Sasha's and taking a long slow slip.

"Maybe if I let him, he'll comp our dinner." Sasha joked.

"Maybe! We should definitely test that hypothesis." John responded with a wink.

John sounded like he might just be serious. Sasha swallowed another oyster and took a sip of her champagne. Images of her exposing herself danced through Sasha's brain -- some imaginary, some real from their past -- she felt the familiar sensation of the butterflies beginning to dance in her belly. Sasha had never been wild or slutty, but she did have an exhibitionist streak, and John knew it. Even thinking about exposing herself to the host of this restaurant was making Sasha's heart beat faster.

John and Sasha's experiments with this "fetish" -- if that's what it was -- had been mild. They had had sex in hotel rooms with the curtains open -- but with the lights off. Once in a while, John would dare Sasha to go out commando, although never in a dress as short as the one she was wearing tonight. Once she had masturbated in the darkness of a movie theater, the other patrons oblivious to her debauchery. It felt edgy, but in truth it was all very safe.

The possibility of being seen, more than the reality of it, was what got those butterflies dancing for Sasha. John would've pushed her further, but he never wanted to take her out of her comfort zone, and he was more than happy with their slightly-edgy-but-mostly-vanilla erotic life. Still, after nearly four years together, deep down, they both yearned for just a little more spark and passion.

Sasha set down her champagne glass and looked into John's eyes with a penetrating gaze. "Don't joke about it. If you want me to, I'll do it."

John furrowed his brow as he studied his girlfriend's countenance to determine whether she was serious. He was pretty sure that she was. And he liked it. He took a slow sip of his own champagne, set the glass down on the table, and took Sasha's hand in his.

"Go to the restroom, take off your thong, come back to the table and hand it to me." He directed her.

Sasha didn't even hesitate. She lifted her napkin to wipe her mouth, set it atop the table, stood, and walked to the ladies' room. She could feel the heat of the host's gaze on her the entire way. Sasha checked her makeup in the mirror and reapplied her lipstick. She slid her thumbs up under the sides of her dress, hooked the waist band of the lace thong, and pulled it down until it dropped to the floor around her heels. She stepped out of it, and bent forward to retrieve it from the floor. She could feel the breeze from the ceiling fan on her bare vulva as she did. Sasha set the thong on the vanity in front of her, and lifted the front of her dress to inspect what the host might see. She had deep tan lines from her Brazilian bikini. Her legs were deep brown, but her bikini area was almost white. She had trimmed her soft straight black public hair into a tidy little triangle that made a stark contrast to the white skin on either side of it.

Sasha ran her fingers through her tiny bush and over her otherwise-smooth mound, admiring her grooming, and sighed at the comfort of her own touch. At that moment, Sasha heard the bathroom door creak and the sound of a woman's voice. Sasha hastily dropped her skirt, snatched her thong off of the vanity, and turned to go. She passed the other diner as she clutched her underwear in a tight fist and walked back towards the table.

Sasha held her knees together and slid into back into her seat next to John. She extended her hand to deliver her thong to him.

"I think he knows that something is up." John said.

"What? Why? How could he know?" Sasha asked incredulously.

"All I know is that when you walked back to the table just now his eyes were glued to your ass, and they were wide. He definitely saw something he liked." John responded with a sly smirk.

"I can't imagine what he could see -- this dress falls below my butt." Sasha said.

"It's a little bit see-through. Maybe he could tell that your underwear is gone." John shrugged, as if to say 'who knows?'

"Well just wait until he sees what's coming next!" Sasha said seductively, leaning forward to kiss her boyfriend deeply on the lips while stroking his cheek with her hand.

Sasha continued to pinch her knees together, but as the multi-course meal unfolded, she began to forget that she was panty-less, and her knees would fall ever so slightly apart; or she would turn her hips toward John, and then back towards the host stand; or she would cross and uncross her legs. Each time, she would remember that her crotch was bare and she would shoot a glance at the host to see if he had noticed. She couldn't tell if he had or if he hadn't.

The host finally brought over their entrees -- a salmon filet with orzo and pesto for John, and a lamb chop with risotto for Sasha. As the host set Sasha's plate down in front of her, standing to her side, she caught him looking down into her lap.

"I am glad that you both enjoyed the oyster course so much." The host said.

"Oh, we love oysters." John responded immediately. "Such a delicacy!"

"I love oysters, too. Very much. Please enjoy your entrees." Said the host as he retreated.

"You dope -- he was telling us something!" Sasha said as soon as the host was out of ear shot, elbowing John in the ribs.

"What? What'd I miss?" John asked defensively.

"Look at my lap." Sasha instructed.

John leaned to his side and looked down at Sasha's lap. Her shifting movements had driven the hem of her dress up past her hips. Her napkin was wrapped around her bare thigh. Her little black triangle, the tip of her clit, and the very top of her slit were clearly visible from above. The tan lines running up the creases of her thighs framed the view.

"My favorite oyster." John cooed as he leaned in to give Sasha a kiss.

"Seems like it's his too!" She quipped, kissing him back.

"Well, now that you know he has seen it, you can stop being so prim." John teased. "I don't think anyone in the restaurant can see under the table except the host. Why don't you relax and really give him something to get excited about?"

The butterflies were doing somersaults now. Sasha's mouth was dry. She slurped from her water glass before placing her hands atop to the table to make sure nobody could see them shake. She scanned the room and confirmed that nobody at all was looking at her, and that they probably would not be able to see beneath the table even if they tried.

The butterflies began to put on an entire Cirque du Soleil show in Sasha's belly. Her breathing grew shallow. Sasha turned her head toward the host stand. The host was, once again, directing his gaze towards her. Sasha very slowly, languorously, but deliberately separated her thighs -- first an inch, then several, then several more. She didn't stop until her knees hit the edge of the banquette. Her sex now open to the host's hungry eyes. Sasha's heart was pounding out of her chest and her breathing grew shallower. She never felt so alive. Or so aroused.

The host licked his lips. Sasha looked down into her lap. Here she was, with her boyfriend, in a restaurant full of people. Her vulva was splayed wide, the lips of her labia slightly separated, as the light from the lamp above their table illuminated her now-moist and glistening pussy. The host's eyes, unblinking and intense, were locked onto Sasha's crotch. She could hear her own heart beating in her chest.

"Oh my god, this is so hot." Sasha panted, half to John, half to herself.

John leaned over to look into her lap. "Holy shit, you're really going for it! This must be the best night of his life."

"Might be the craziest night of mine!" Sasha purred.

As Sasha finished her entrée, she could no more focus on keeping her legs spread than she earlier had been able to focus on keeping them closed. She tried just to stop thinking about them entirely, to relax and enjoy the delicious meal, and to feel the delicious vibrations that her exposure was sending through her, clit to belly, belly to temples, temples to ears, and back down again. She felt flushed and was afraid she was blushing.

Sasha soldiered on, dress hiked up above her hips. When their server or a bus boy would deliver or retrieve a plate, or refill the water glasses, Sasha would lean forward to deprive them of any view or any clue.

When the host would deliver a fresh glass of wine, she would lean back in the banquette so that he could see clearly and up close exactly what he was mostly watching from across the room. He knew that Sasha knew that he was watching her. And Sasha knew that he knew. They did not speak of it, but they saw one another, and she let him look. She encouraged him to look. And she never averted her eyes from his. She was not shy, she was brazen. And she was loving it.

By the time the host delivered their dessert course, most of the other guests had left. He strode across the dining room with John's gelato and Sasha's chocolate cake, and placed them on the table, again leering lustfully at Sasha's thighs, now aglow with sweat, and her pussy, now sticky and slick with her juices.

"May I offer you a dessert wine with my compliments? We have an aged Marsala from Sicily that is as sweet as any port. I think you would like it." The host offered.

"Yes! That sounds lovely!" Sasha accepted. "Would you like to sit and enjoy a glass with us?"

He looked around, and confirming that the restaurant was nearly empty, and so his hosting duties nearly concluded, he replied "Yes, that would be lovely. I will be right back."

"What mischief are you getting up to?" John pressed.

"That guy is better acquainted with my pussy than anyone other than you or my gynecologist." Sasha stated. "I don't think it's unreasonable to want to share a drink and have some conversation with him."

"As long as you know what you're doing." John said with a loving smile and gave Sasha another kiss.

The host returned with a bottle and three small glasses. He pulled up a chair and sat across from John with Sasha between them. He pulled the cork, poured the wine, and placed the tiny goblets in front of them. "Saluti!" He said, holding out his glass.

"Saluti!" Cheered John and Sasha, as they toasted the host.

After introductions (his name was Gino), Gino the host said "I have very much enjoyed having you as guests of our restaurant this evening. I am going to comp your wine and your dessert. On me."

"Wow thanks!" Said John.

"Yes, thank you so much!" Sasha leaning over to Gina and giving him a chaste peck on his cheek. "I knew you were looking at me all night." She said, naming the elephant in the room, poking a hole in the balloon of tension. She suddenly felt like she could breathe again. But the tension began to rebuild almost immediately, as Sasha considered what was to come.

"You are a spectacularly beautiful woman," said Gino in his sexy Italian accent. "Your confidence is sexy and powerful. I am grateful that you have shared your body with me tonight. Thank you -- thank you very much."

"You're welcome." Said Sasha, "I'm glad you enjoyed it. I knew you were looking at me, and I guess I'm a bit of an exhibitionist." She laughed.

"You took it to a new level tonight, Sasha! Here's to Sasha!" Said John, raising another toast.

"To Sasha and her beautiful body!" Said Gino.

"To me and my beautiful body!" Said Sasha.

"You know," Sasha paused, and continued, "I mean literally: you know -- you can see! I am very aroused."

John and Gino both leaned to look into Sasha's lap. She looked down as well. Her labia was dark, engorged, and blooming like an orchid. Sasha's clit was erect and jutting out from its pink hood. Her slit was leaking copiously, and a small puddle had formed on the leather beneath her.

"Wow!" John and Gino said in unison, wide eyed and captivated by Sasha's wet, musky, trembling pussy.

Sasha lowered her voice almost to a whisper, and her eyes darted back and forth between John and Gino as she asked "Would you like to watch me bring myself off? There's nobody else in here, and I need to come so badly."

"You want to touch yourself? Here?" Asked Gino, looking around to confirm that the dining room was empty, and looking to John to see if he was okay with this.

"I would enjoy that." Said John encouragingly.

"Yes, I would enjoy that too." Said Gino.

Sasha bit her lower lip. She gave John another kiss. She took a sip of her Marsala, its sweet warmth tamping down the butterflies.

Sasha turned her body towards Gino and pulled one leg up onto the banquette, fully exposing herself to him, no longer across a room, but merely a yard away. She slid her middle finger down her belly, through her bush, across her clit, to a point a millimeter above her anus. Then she drew her juices from her taint up to her clit, where she made small wet circles. With her other hand she cupped her breast and pinched her nipple through the fabric of her dress.

Sasha looked at Gino, who was slack jawed and locked in on the extraordinary pussy displayed before him. Sasha took the hand from her breast, reached down behind her thigh, and drove two fingers into her gooey pussy while the other hand fluttered over her clit with increasing intensity. She started to pant heavily, shoving her fingers in and out of her gash, the squishy sounds of it just barely audible above the music in the restaurant. Sasha's other hand was flying side to side over her clit. Her heart quickened and she began to moan. Gino was rapt.

John reached over to cup Sasha's now-unattended breast in his palm, and that pushed her over the edge. Sasha's hips began to buck as her abdominal muscles seized and the muscles at the door to her pussy pulsed and rhythmically clenched around her fingers. She tossed her head back as her eyeballs rolled up into her skull and gave a grunt followed by a long moan and a whimper. Her juices puddled in front of her on the leather banquette.

"Dios mio." Exclaimed Gino, looking shell shocked.

Sasha inhaled deliberately and exhaled from pursed lips. She withdrew the fingers from her pussy and offered them to John, who licked them clean, and took another sip of the Marsala. John nodded towards Gino. Sasha kissed John, took two fingers, and shoved them back into herself. She stirred them around in her come, drew them slowly out of herself as Gino watched, and held her hand out to him.

Gino took her hand and his and sucked the two fingers into his mouth, licking them affectionately. "My god. Exquisite." He said.

Sasha pulled her napkin to her lap, and spread it over the puddle on the banquette beneath her, reseating herself atop it. She pulled her dress back down to her thighs, and swept her hair back over her shoulders. She threw back the rest of her Marsala.

"Check please?" She said, grinning.

"You know what?" Said Gino. "This is on me. The whole meal. On the house. Thank you. Thank you very much. Please, come back again. You are always welcome here."

Sasha stood. John stood. She reached out to pull Gino in for a hug. "Thank you." She said. "It was a spectacular meal. You really didn't have to, but we'll let you. And we'll definitely be back -- as long as you make sure we get this table." And Sasha kissed Gino again on his left cheek, and then his right -- Italian style.

"This is your table now, whenever you want it." Said Gino.

John offered Sasha his elbow. She took looped her hand through it, and the two walked to the door. Sasha reached behind herself and flipped up the back of her dress to give Gino a parting view of her beautiful derriere.

"I told you I could get dinner comped." She whispered in John's ear as they exited.

"Can't wait to find out what's next." John responded, planting a kiss on Sasha's red lips.

To be continued...