A Treat Between Courses

Day nine was the best orgasm so far. and the first one that wasn’t solo.

We sat in a secluded corner of our favourite Indian restaurant, my lover and I. The poppadums were served hot and crisp, the chutneys tangy and the Chardonnay was dry and oaky just as I like it.  A sensual feast for the mouth. The onion bhajis were, well,divine.

But there was more in store for him. He moved aside to let me out from behind the table so that I could go to the loo. I turned and beckoned to him to follow me. I pulled him into the cramped cubicle. I lifted my dress, pulled down my knickers and said

“Kneel.”

He did as he was told.

I sat down on the toilet, bursting for a wee after the wine and beer earlier at the pub. I had been saving it all for him. I took his head, pulled it in close to my crotch and pushed my cock into his eager mouth. I felt myself stiffen slightly but not enough to stop the strong hot flow down my urethra. He sucked and drank and struggled at the quick insistent flow that filled his mouth faster than he could swallow until he started to gag  and I withdrew to let the rest flow into the toilet bowl..

He looked up, smiling with happiness, and wiped a drop off his chin. Now I was getting hard.

“After wine, lassi” I said.

He didn’t need to be told what to do.  My lover gives me divine pleasure with his mouth. It is soft and warm, and he works me just right,  always enough to make me come, never too vigorous on my most sensitive parts. I  sat back, leant against the newly tiled wall and moaned louder and louder until I heard the door open.

“Keep going” I ordered in a fierce whisper.

I was hard but not quite ready to come. I took my cock out, quickly masturbated to completion before coming in his lovely  mouth in glugs of ecstasy. Whoever had been in, waiting impatiently, had gone so I let out a scream as the orgasm hit  me in waves.

Most days I would return the favour. But not today. There was no more time. The main courses were surely about to be served. He had his reward though, tucked greedily into nan breads that were liberally smeared with what the casual observer might have thought was butter.

And I am back there tomorrow with my lady lover, for a spicy dish with lady’s fingers

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