The Man and I exchanged surreptitious glances over our bowls of soup, fizzing with excitement over what may or may not happen later on in the evening.
There were two other friends at the table, who knew nothing of our secret alliance. As far as they and anyone else were concerned, we were just a man and woman who were friends – that at the end of the night everyone at the table would head off in different directions to their own beds.
The clandestine nature of our lustful fun made it all the more exhilarating. I felt myself blush at my naughty thoughts as we talked about all kinds of trivial things as we tucked into the main course – steak and veg, rather than the other main course I would devour later.
The Man was cooking for three of us and it was satisfying to see him whisking plates and cutlery away and breezing back with different courses. I liked to see him a little flustered – it gave me a tiny peak at his usually hidden vulnerability. He was usually strong, calm and in control and seeing this side of him (which rarely appeared) always made me feel like perhaps he was not as self-sufficient as he liked everyone to think. It also made me want to jump up from the table, maybe upset a few plates, push him up against the wall and kiss him. But that would pretty much blow our cover.
So instead, with our friends, I carried on our conversation about how best to cook steak and took sips from my wine.
We sailed through dessert and started on some cheese and biscuits. I could feel myself tingling in the groin, not because of the brie, but at the anticipation of what may come soon. Our friends were muttering about it getting late and looking at their watches. I remained calm – after all, I lived near The Man, so it wasn’t necessary for me to worry about setting off home just yet.
Eventually, our friends left and we sat back down at the table to finish our wine.
Then, he turned to me, this time looking full on into my eyes, now he was free to be bold again.
“So, little girl, would you like to come upstairs with me?” He asked, smirking, knowing full well that I had been waiting all evening for this moment. He was back in control again and was totally aware he could reduce me to mush. All I could do was let him lead me by the hand up to this room.
In the soft-focused red wine haze we kissed and were naked within seconds as he tasted my damp and over-excited pussy. I writhed with pleasure and pulled him on top of me – I wanted to feel him inside me now, after all this time. My patience had run out hours ago.
He entered me hard and deep and I gasped at the force, but thrust my hips to make him do it again, and again, and again… He flipped me over and slapped my bottom playfully. The heat of the slap only made me hunger for more of his dick. We bonked hard and the bed creaked. But the long evening had zapped our energy, so we soon crashed on to the bed in a heap, exhausted but satisfied.
But, dear readers, he is a damn good cook, so if food was all that was on the table, some of my needs would have been satisfied, while others would have been growling and rumbling…