Continued from… Meet Mister Silent (1)
Once during lunch, between the starter and the main course and while we were talking, Mister Silent leaned towards me and stroke my leg with his right hand, running his fingers up and down and probably pulling my dress up a bit more. But, it was only after our main course that he half turned in his seat and put his hand on my back, stroking up and down, tangling his hand in my hair and rubbing my neck. Damn, it felt so good. Warm. And I don’t mean that only his hand felt warm. He radiated interest, fondness and it filled my body with heat. I was wet already, but probably became just a bit wetter then.
I looked at Master T and saw the approval in his eyes, the smile around his lips. He approved. I was his slut and I was about to do what he expected of me.
With his left hand firmly on my back, Mister Silent leaned over and pushed his right hand between my legs. I remember a previous conversation about my wetness and knew that was what he would find there, depending on how much he explored. Two fingers pushed my labia apart and found my clitoris. He ran the tip of his finger over it, but then explored further down, finding my wetness. I tilted my hips backwards to give him room to push a finger inside me.
“You haven’t lied,” Mister Silent said, “it’s definitely damp.”
Of course I blushed.
He moved on to my breasts, pulling my dress aside and exposing it for a moment. There was something magical in this moment, even though it lasted for only a second. Exposed in the restaurant by a man who is not my husband, and with my husband watching us. Through the fabric of my dress he lightly pinched first one nipple, then the other.
“They do react quite quickly,” he said, looking at Master T, who nodded and agreed. Even though this was only a short remark, I liked the way they spoke about me – no, my body – as if I wasn’t there. It excited me.
His hand moved towards my pussy again, but Mister Silent pulled my dress up, exposing me to his eyes.
“Finally, I’m seeing it live,” he said, referring to the many images he had seen of me and on which he had commented.
I wondered what this date did to him. Was he excited? He seemed calm, but maybe he had an erection or maybe at least something stirred in his pants. I wanted to put my hand on his leg, but I didn’t. I have no idea why not. I think I was just enjoying his touch too much.
Several times Mister Silent had to withdraw his hand from between my legs or he had to stop pinching my nipples, because a young lady and a young man, who tended our table and others around us, came closer. There was a moment when I realized that the young lady definitely caught on to what Mister Silent was doing. I blushed, but I felt a sense of pride too. Where in the past I would have chickened out, now I almost didn’t mind being ‘seen’. I left the two men alone to go to the restrooms and as I walked there, the young man walked towards me. The smile on his face and the quick way he glanced in the direction of the two men at our table told me enough: he knew what happened back at that table!
When I got back to the table, the men had already paid the bill. We had been there for three hours! Mister Silent leaned over towards me and said: “I want to feel you one last time before we go.”
By then his hand was already between my legs, which I spread and again I tilted my hips for him to push a finger inside me. A quick kiss on the mouth and then we stood up to leave. We walked away – me hand in hand with Master T – and laughed talking about the waitress and waiter probably being baffled at that moment, as all along at the table it looked like I belong with Mister Silent.
The date didn’t end there. Master T and I went home first. In the car we talked about the lunch date and how Mister Silent ‘examined the goods’.
“I really like him,” I said to Master T who smiled approvingly.
Walking into the back garden I said to Master T: “Your wife is a slut.”
Master T smiled and said: “Just the way I like it!”
Mister Silent joined us later in our regular hangout (he’s the first man we’ve dated with that we allowed into our personal circle) for a couple of drinks and it was only long after the evening had set in that he left to go home, and so did we. The men made one promise when we parted: a different kind of date will follow soon!
I can’t wait!
© Rebel’s Notes
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