Wilmington Woman's Club Ch. 75

The waiter appeared at their table and he ordered stone crabs and oysters on the half shell for both of them; while Val wondered what it would be like to "explore" with him.

"Actually, I didn't mean it that way. What I meant..." He realized he might have pushed the conversation too far too fast, and tried to salvage the moment, saying "I'm sorry, beautiful, am I making you nervous?"

"No, no," she said quickly. "Please. Go on."

Val looked out the window. They were facing west, and the sun had dipped below the horizon. The last rays of sunlight over the river caught the vapor trails from a jet plane, painting them red. The clouds, lower in the sky, had faded to pink. It was a magnificent sunset, and as the room grew darker as dusk settled over the city, the waiter brought their salads, refilled their wine glasses, and lit the candle on the table.

"Well, anyway, with Gloria I pushed her to do things, to try things... you know, and then I went away. She was a fragile thing. I mean that two ways. She was a skinny little kid, but she was also easily led. She knew I loved her. I have no doubt she loved me back, but in my absence she tried drugs... heroin, to be specific. It killed her. And that haunts me. I think if I had learned some things a little earlier, it would have worked out for us. It didn't, and that's that."

"I'm so sorry," Val murmured and reached out for his hand and squeezed it.

He raised her hand to his lips, brushed them over her fingertips, while she held her breath. Not since Paris... she thought. I haven't felt like this since that wonderful night in Paris.

He continued to hold her fingers to his lips. He leaned closer to her, touched her cheek with his fingertips. Their lips touched. Her eyes closed. Her lips parted, and she felt his tongue touch hers, lightly, teasing, with just the tip of his tongue. His teeth brushed her lower lip. His kiss was gentle, sensuous, nibbling, tasting, and very exciting.

"Hmmm," she murmured, and thought, I wouldn't have expected him to be so gentle.

"I've wanted to do that since I first laid eyes on you, but didn't. I have to tell you... you reek class, and I thought you'd reject me."

"Reject you? Oh, no... but if you think I reek, well perhaps I should reject you." But she had a smile on her lips that was unmistakable. "Do I really smell so badly?"

"No, no! What I meant was that you... well, obviously you have money," he touched one of her diamond earrings to emphasize his point.

She laughed and he joined her half a beat later.

The waiter served a half dozen iced oysters on the half shell, momentarily destroying the mood. Marty quickly ate one of the oysters with lemon and cocktail sauce. Val slowly spread cocktail sauce and horseradish on one of the oysters, took her fork, and plucked the oyster from its shell. Marty stared as she opened her mouth, placed it on her tongue, and drew it into her mouth.

She caught him staring, and she looked at him. "Oh, I'm sorry, am I making you nervous?" she said, realizing that oysters could be a sensual kind of thing. She just kept looking at him, waiting to see how he would handle himself.

"I'm sorry. Watching you eat that oyster. The way you placed it on your tongue and drew it into your mouth...."

She grinned knowingly, briefly wondering if she had the nerve to crawl under the table and suck his cock as she had Gerry Attric's. She let the thought linger a moment longer before deciding it would be less than prudent to be caught out in public and cause a scandal.

Instead, she widened her eyes and said provocatively, "Yes?"

Marty didn't answer. He took his fork, plucked another oyster from its shell, dipped it in sauce and brought it close to her mouth. She closed her eyes, opened her mouth and extended her tongue. He placed the oyster on her tongue and she sucked it into her mouth, a look of sheer pleasure on her face.

"Damn, but you're a very sexy woman."

Val suddenly realized just how turned on she was. She felt safe. She felt like she could be herself. Anything she did would be okay. She was definitely horny.

She took an oyster, dipped it in the sauce and served it to him. As she held it on the fork, he licked the sauce from it, running his tongue all over the oyster without taking it from the fork. Finally, he drew it between his lips and gently sucked it from the fork and into his mouth.

"Mmmm," he whispered as he did. "I love the fresh taste of oysters. I love the way an oyster feels on my tongue. I especially love to find the pearl in the oyster, find it with my tongue, lick it taste it...."

Oh, my God, she thought as he held her eyes with his then leaned forward and brushed her lips with his, flicked his tongue over her lips, and licked a bit of cocktail sauce from her mouth. "Don't want to waste any," he said.

Where was this headed? Val asked herself and smiled. Well, I know where I want it to go, she admitted to herself.

"That's a lovely dress you have on," Marty said with a smile.

"And you want to know what's under it, do you?"

"What?"

"I said you want to know what's under it. Isn't that what you were about to ask me?"

He laughed and said, "What are you wearing under the dress?"

"Just a bra and panties, no garter belt, no corset; it's just me and some frilly undies," she answered without hesitation.

"Nothing else?"

"No, nothing else."

"Tell me about them."

"White, with lacy frills."

"I'd like to see them."

She smiled. "Yes, I'm sure you would."

"I'd like to see them now."

He wasn't kidding. "Uh huh," she mumbled,

"Listen," she said recovering slightly. "I don't want anything foolish to happen here, or to the dress for that matter."

"I won't let anything happen to your dress. It's too pretty to soil."

Val stood, "Excuse me; I have to go to the powder room for a moment."

Marty stood until she passed him then watched her walk, saw the extra swing she put into her hips and knew it was for his benefit.

In the rest room, Val quickly entered a stall, raised her dress and pulled her pantyhose down followed immediately by her panties. She sat down and took a moment to reflect on whether she should take the pantyhose off along with the panties and decided to put them back on after removing the lacy undies. Finally she held the panties in her hand and saw how damp they were with her juices.

He would know how turned on she was. This made her nervous, but excited her more. Silently, without really thinking, she got up from the commode, unzipped her dress, opened the bra and took it off and put it in her purse. She took several minutes examining herself in the mirror making sure her breasts would remain confined within the dress and not pop out. Had that been the case, he would have been out of luck with her taking the bra off.

What else he would want her to do? He'd said he was imaginative. Well, if he wanted her to do anything too outrageous, she could say no. Couldn't she?

Val rolled her panties into a ball, concealing them in her hand, took a deep breath, and left the ladies room. She hurried to the table and sat down, nervously looking at her plate, the panties clenched tightly in her fist.

"May I?"

Val looked at him. He was holding his open palm toward her. She placed the damp white ball in his hand. He took it, held it to his lips and looked at her, holding her eyes with his. "Thank you. That wasn't so difficult, was it?"

She shook her head from side to side, unable to verbalize an answer as she thought, how many men ask their women to do what I've just done? Not all that many I bet. Almost immediately Val felt a confidence sweep over her.

"You're excited, aren't you?" Once again Val shook her head from side to side.

Her face flushed. She grew even more nervous as the waiter appeared with their salads. He was holding her panties in his hand. Would the waiter see them? Would he know how aroused she was?

Marty coolly put the panties in the breast pocket of his jacket and the waiter left after what seemed an eternity. Val took a deep breath. Had she been holding her breath the whole time he was serving the salads?

He took the panties out, unfolded them and brought them to his face, and said, "I can't wait to taste you."

He's going to smell them — going to smell me! She flushed, God, everything he does turns me on!

"Yes," she hissed as his tongue darted out to lick the gusset of her panties.

"You have a unique flavor to you," he told her as if asking her to pass the salt. "May I keep them?"

A long moment passed before she could bring herself to answer him. "Yes," she croaked.

They ate their salads in silence, the erotic tension building in Val's head. Then suddenly, Marty's words shattered the silence. "Take the middle finger of your right hand, put it inside you then give me the finger so I can taste you."

Stunned, Val could only look at him.

"Now, please."

Without another thought, she took her hand, moved it to her lap, and slid it under her dress. She was shaking as she slid her middle finger over her exposed lips and into her... self. She was hot; sopping wet. Involuntarily, her muscles tightened around the finger.

Marty leaned closer. "Let me taste your sweetness."

He says it so off-handedly one would think he was remarking on the weather outside, Val thought as she brought her finger to his lips.

He licked just the tip of her finger with the tip of his tongue. She moaned softly, imagining his kiss and his tongue in other places. She returned to reality as he gently bit the tip of the finger while teasing it with his tongue, sucked it, swirled his tongue around it. Was he trying to show her how to suck his cock? She damn well knew how to do that; Joe and several others including Gerry Attric, had given her glowing praise for her abilities in that regard.

Still, his actions had her yearning to suck his cock; to have him spew his load down her throat so she might swallow it all.

"Do you want to taste me like that?" He said, interrupting her thoughts.

Can he read my fucking mind? But she quickly replied, "Yes."

"Want to feel my hard cock in your mouth?"

"Yes."

"Want to feel it throbbing, pulsing? Taste me when I explode in your mouth?"

"Yessss!" she fairly hissed the last syllables of the word.

He leaned into her, pressing his lips to hers. His lips parted, and she felt his tongue teasing her lips. She opened her mouth, and his tongue slipped inside. She sucked his tongue; let it slide in and out between her lips and swirled her tongue around his. His tongue felt good.

He moaned softly into her mouth.

The kiss lasted forever.

Val couldn't recall being this turned on. I guess I was usually fucking or sucking my partner by this point, she thought, only to be brought out of her reverie by his next words.

"Now, take the middle finger of your left hand, and wet it in your mouth. Take it all the way into your mouth and get it nice and wet. Think about my cock. Think about sucking my cock." Mindlessly, completely absorbed, Val did as he said. "Now take the tip of that finger and place it just inside the lips of your pussy, letting the rest of the finger press on your clitoris."

"Ohhhh."

"Think about my tongue sliding between your lips like that. Think about my tongue moving up, lightly caressing your clit. Let your finger be my tongue. Let it move over your clit, teasing, tasting. Let my tongue inflame you."

"Oh, my God!"

"Take your right hand; take two fingers... put them in your cunt."

Val moaned softly, but took her right hand, slid it under her dress, between her legs. Jesus, I'm so wet! The fingers slid in easily. She squeezed the fingers, as her hand moved over her clit.

"Put the two fingers in your cunt and think about my cock inside you. I want you to think about how that will feel. My hard cock, throbbing inside you; it's filling you, filling you all up."

Val was squirming in her chair. Two fingers moving inside her, her other finger massaging her exposed clitoris. Her brain filled with images of his cock in her pussy, in her mouth, his tongue on her. If she kept this up, she'd have an orgasm right here at the table.

"Don't you dare cum!"

He is a mind reader! She concluded. She was so close. Wanted to come, needed to come, but did she dare? He'd told her not too... she had better not. He would make a scene. People would know. It would be mortifying. Someone here must know who she was. Having dinner with a man wasn't a crime. It could be anything; a social affair, a business meeting, anything, all above board. All innocent, unless they can also read my mind, or my face.

Suddenly Val was happy he had prohibited her from coming. It made things even more exciting. But how much more could she take?

She froze. The waiter appeared with the main course. Her hands were under her dress. She knew the air must be filled with the scent of sex. She didn't move.

The waiter placed two plates of colorful stone crab claws in front of them, beautifully arranged on a bed of lettuce, with tomatoes and other cold vegetables completing the presentation. Slowly, the waiter refreshed the wine glasses. Val was afraid to look at him. She wondered, though, if he was looking at her, knowing what she was doing with her hands.

Finally, the waiter departed.

"I want you to leave your hands where they are. I will feed you. I want you to imagine that your hands are tied, that you are bound and that you have given control to me. I will control your pleasure, and I will give you exquisite pleasures. I will control your orgasms. You will not come without my permission. Your orgasms will be your gift to me, and I will take pleasure in them. And in turn they will be my gift to you."

He paused to give her a sip of wine; her mind was reeling.

Marty cracked one of the claws, and peeled the shell away. The sweet meat fell from the claw in chunks. He took one of the chunks between his fingers, dipped it in the sauce, and offered it to her. She took it with her mouth, nibbling his fingers as she did, licking his fingers clean.

They ate dinner silently. He fed her the delicious crab meat; gave her sips of wine. She watched him eat, slowly, sensuously, licking and sucking the sweet meat. Her hands remained under her dress through dinner. Once, he wanted to taste her. She withdrew her two fingers and he sucked them. Once, he offered an entire claw to her, told her it was his cock, told her to eat it. Once, he told her to take the middle finger of her left hand, dip it in the remoulade and suck it like a cock, then put it back between her legs and imagine the head of his cock against her clit.

All through dinner he kept her on the edge.

As they finished dinner, he leaned close and kissed her cheek, then lightly brushed her lips with his. He kissed her, nibbling her lips, teasing with his tongue. He broke the kiss, then kissed her ear, and whispered, "Think about my mouth on your pussy. When I kiss your lips, imagine I am kissing your sweet pussy lips. When my tongue touches yours, imagine my tongue is touching your clit, when your fingers move inside you, imagine my cock thrusting deep inside you."

She managed a low moan through what was suddenly a parched throat.

He placed his lips on hers again, drew her lower lip between his, and sucked gently, running his tongue over her lip. His tongue touched hers. She gasped. It was as if it were between her legs. It was all connected now in her head. It was all the same; one feeling. She was close to coming.

Reading her mind, he said, "Not yet," and she groaned.

"Now," he whispered, "I want you to imagine my mouth on you. Not your mouth — your cunt. Picture my mouth munching on you."

Blinking her eyes repeatedly, she realized he had taken her breath away. She squirmed in her chair.

"Yes, can you feel me licking you?" he whispered then kissed her.

She was whimpering now, squirming, hips moving in her seat, her muscles contracting around her fingers. She was on the edge. She felt everything he said. His tongue danced in her mouth.

Tearing his lips from hers, he growled, "Now, come for me, come for me!"

She closed her eyes, and instantly felt the first wave build and crash over her. That was followed by another and another. Off in the distance, she felt his lips back on hers, nibbling and licking and sucking.

He was whispering too, but she was no longer listening; only feeling, wave after wave of pleasure and desperately trying not to scream.

Finally, she came down. She could not believe what she had just done. She opened her eyes, looked at him, and saw him smiling, saw his blue eyes shining.

Val sat at the table in a trance, barely comprehending what she had just done. Her hands were under the tablecloth, between her legs. She had just masturbated in a public restaurant — on his command — it had been incredible. And, even more amazing, she realized, she wanted more.

Somewhere, some part of her brain heard him say, "Come on, it's time to leave." Still dazed, she let him lead her from the restaurant. She was beginning to come to grips with what had happened. What had he done to her? What she had done?

To be continued...