The Restaurant

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“You look beautiful tonight.” I clinked her wine glass.

“Oh, you really do love me.”

“I do Terry. I really do.”

“I love you too Stephen,” she said, clinking back.

Theresa and I were out for our every once in a while fancy restaurant night. You know, where you each take a little more care to dress nicely for each other to make sure you both know you care a bit more than you usually show.

“Do you love me enough to tell me which panties you’re wearing?”

She looked down at the table. “Steve, shhhh, you’re embarrassing me again. Why do you that?” This restaurant was quieter than most in New York, but there was still enough of a hubbub that no one was going to hear our conversation. “I don’t want everyone listening to us.”

“Come on, there’s almost no one here. We’re at the early oldster sitting. Which ones?”

“Oh okay. The red ones. The red Granny pants.” She was even turning a light shade of red herself.

“The ones with all the lace? The super sexy red ones?”

She nodded.

“For me? You wore them for me tonight? Am I going to get lucky later?”

She nodded again.

“What? Tell me.”

“You know I can’t do this in public. Wait until we get home, then I’ll tell you.”

“Well Terry, *you* might not get lucky when we get home if I can’t hear a little more from you.”

She let out a rush of air. “Yes Steve,” she lowered to almost a whisper. “You’re going to get lucky tonight.” I could barely hear her voice. “I’m going to fuck your brains out.” A pause. “Is that what you want from me?”

“The fucking or the telling? Both!” I smiled, and she smiled back. “Maybe you could give me those panties now so I can tell how lucky I’ll be?” I said with a hint of hopefulness.

“No sir Mister, no way.” She sounded pretty resolute. And yet, I could her shifting around in her seat.

This is probably a good time to tell you about Terry and me. We’ve been married for 24 years, living in Manhattan with two boys who are off at college. Our sex life has been pretty damned good, if interrupted raising a couple of kids, and we were on the way to rediscovering it. I’d always been the more adventurous, but Terry would come along for the ride, if a bit reluctantly. But she’d usually get there with a tiny push. At least, when we were alone in the bedroom. Even out in the kitchen things could get a little awkward for her with some harmless sexy talk. It was all right with me, we had a great time together.

Nonetheless, it was time for a little shove.

“I want your panties. Now.”

Terry shook her head.

“You know it turns me on. And that it’ll turn you on too.”

Her shifting was becoming a little agitated. Good.

“Of course, I’d rather see your bottom hugged in by those giant see through reds. But, if I can’t see that I could think about it when you hand them over.”

“Stop please!” she pleaded in a hoarse undertone. “I’ll say whatever you want at home. Not here!”

I just stared at her with a happy smile. Nudge nudge.

“What? What! You really want this?” She started to get up from her chair looking slightly disgusted and somewhat defeated.

“No. Sit down.” Terry was confused. “Here. Take them off here.”

Her jaw dropped. “Now? Here? No. It’s too hard, everyone will see.” Her head was shaking. “I told you, they’re grannys, big. It would take an hour to get them down.”

“I’m a patient man for the woman I love. And her bloomers,” I said with a genuine beam in my eyes.

“I can’t believe you’re asking me to do this,” was mumbling as her hips were rocking back and forth. ” And that I’m actually doing it!” She stopped for a second. “God,” she exhaled, “I…My…I’m Travesti already soaked. You creep!” She was smiling, by the way.

It was clear that she’d gotten hem down past her ankles and over her heels as she was handing them off to me under the table.

“Theresa!” I shook my head. “I want to see them.”

“I can’t… Not here… Oh…” She’d bunched up the red lace and pushed it across the table.

I opened them up in front of me before I grabbed them up and inhaled hem across my face.

“I can’t wait to get my mouth down there. Can you?” I said as she blushed profoundly.

“You didn’t do that did you Stephen? They’re so big, I have such a fat ass!” She was almost crying. “Do you like my big bum that much?”

“Oh baby, you know I do. I love those big cheeks, every twitch in them.” I really did. “In fact, maybe you could get up and show it to me when you walk away to the ladies. And take off your bra for me too and bring it back. Is it red too?”

“Really? Your kidding, right? With this blouse?” Her whisper was hoarse again.

“That’s why you’ll look so good.” I sweet talked.

“I… but… people will look…”

“And people will only see a gorgeous woman that turns their heads.”

“Are you sure? I mean, I want you to be turned on and happy with me.”

“I’m already turned on. I want *you* to be turned on.”

She twinkled slightly and murmured, “You know you can make me horny with just your leer, but we’re in the middle of so many people.” That was an exaggeration, but we certainly were in a public place. “Everything will show. My nipples are so hard they’ll stick out a mile and everyone will see…” She trailed off as she started to get up. “All right Stephen. All right.” But I could see she was smiling again. She was enjoying the shove, just a little.

The waiters were just delivering our meals when Terry was walking back with her right hand trying, and failing, to contain all the material from clutching her bra. But my eyes were glued to the 70s TV style jiggle of her breasts. She was right about that, her nipples did indeed stick out a mile. She quickly sat down as the waiters were departing.

“Here!” she said as she thrust her hand across the table and deposited the goods. “God, the material keeps rubbing, I feel like I could come right away.” She went pink. “Don’t do that!”

I’d spread her bra out with the D-cups pointing upwards like the mountain range they were.

“Put that away right now.” I did. “I am mortified! Why do you like doing this to me? It doesn’t really arouse me as much as you think it does.”

“Oh really? You know, when you were walking towards the ladies, I was fixated on the wet spot on the back of your dress.”

“What?! I had a spot?! Do you think anyone else noticed?!” Now the pink turned almost dark red. “I don’t understand how you do this to me.”

I don’t care what she says, without fail afterwards she tells me she loves every minute of the game.

“Can we eat? Please.”

It was delicious, as usual. But I think, maybe more so because of the sexual tension that had built up. Terry was quiet, but not in any kind of bad way. Just subdued, like she was thinking about something, maybe what we were going to do later. At least, a man could dream.

After we ordered dessert and coffee she looked over at me.

“I feel like I’m naked and all the people are staring at my tits.”

Whenever she used the word “tits” I knew foreplay had started.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know, it’s just that everytime I move I can feel my knobs tickle my…” she quieted a litte. “It tingles in my kitty.” Quieter still. “I feel my Antalya Travesti pussy leak a little more. I’m scared if I get up there’ll be a puddle.” She exhaled.

“You like the sensations, right?” I said in just as low a voice. “You can take it, can’t you?”

“Yes can take it! I just want you to take me! But we can’t until we leave. Do we have to have have dessert? I really need you to plow me.”

“Eating a dessert sounds,” I told her with an exaggerated ogle. “I guess I’m going to have two helpings tonight, though one of them will be kind of soupy.”

“Oh Steve, stop. Really. You’re torturing me.” She was breathing heavier.

“You could stop it right now. Just reach under your dress.”


“You’ll like it. You’ll not only get relief, but it’ll get you ready for the main event.” “No no no no no. I fell for that once before. But no matter how hot I am, I am not going to make myself come in public again.”

Once when we were dating I’d convinced Terry to rub herself to orgasm on a park bench. That’s a story worth telling someday. To make it short, when we got back to her apartment I think we fucked for five hours, on every piece of furniture, on the floor, in the shower. She must have come about 500 times. Maybe I did too. But that was then, and I’d never been able persuade her to try again.

OK whatever. “Then tell me. You can guess what I’m going to do to you when we get home. Tell me what *you’re* going to do to *me*.”

“Hmmm, all right, I can do that. Let me think.” Her eyes looked up at the ceiling for a second, before they found mine again. “I’m going keep my clothes on. But you’re not. Instead of my stripping for you, tonight you’re going to stand in front on me while I’m prim and proper on the couch…”

“Prim and proper without a bra or panties under your chic clothes, leaking all over the place.”

“Shut up, you. It’s my turn.” She started again. “You’re going to do what I say, and button by button you’ll open your shirt for me so I can see that hairy chest of yours.”

“My fat, hairy chest.”

“The hairy chest I like so much mister,” she said firmly. “You’ll take off your shoes and socks, unbuckle your belt, unbutton your pants.”

“And pull them down?”

“Be quiet, or I’m going to stop.”

“You’ve got the floor mistress.” I pantomimed a zipper across my lips.

“Good. Back to what I want. You’ll pull your penis out from the slit in your underwear and zipper, it’ll be difficult because it’s already as hard as a rock.”

I nodded vigorously.

“Yes, a total stiffy. And it’ll stick out of your pants, straight up with that little curve that it has. It looks so stupid like that, and so… so dirty. It’s so ridiculous that I have to grab it and put it down my throat.”

Her story was getting intense.

“Your cock always tastes so good to me. I just love having my lips around the tip, getting my red lipstick all over it and then cleaning it off.” I saw her arm move a little deeper under the table. “Keep your shirt on, but take your pants off. I want to see you hairy balls too.”

I was a little bewildered. “Now? Here?” I was starting to sound like her.

“Yes. Here.” She smiled. “No silly. At home.” Another smile. “But how’s it feel?”

That was a close one.

“I want to see your balls hanging down under your shirt tales. For some reason that’s really sexy to me. With your dick standing straight up so I lick you all over, suck your dick, play with your balls, and finger your ass, all at the same time.” Her arm was going back and forth a little. Was she…? Terry seemed to lost her inhibitions about being out in the restaurant.

“I Bursa Travesti love it when I soak your penis with my mouth, it feels so good. But I want even slicker, so I reach over to the table where –magically!– there just happens to be a bottle of our favorite lube.”

Lube? I wonder if…

“And I pour the lube out over your hard cock, and slick it all up, rubbing up and down, making it shudder in my hands, massaging it just up to the point where you’re going to spurt… But I stop.”

“Oh jeeez, don’t. I’m about to explode out in public myself.”

“Don’t you dare, there’s more to come. Sorry for the pun.”

Pun, shum. “Tell me more.”

“As I’m rubbing your shaft I start getting a feeling I haven’t had in a long time. I slowly stand up and turn around, shimmying up my skirt, shifting my hips back and forth. Can you imagine that?”

Terry’s burning her eyes into mine right now.

“My big, fat ass is staring you right in the face. Just like you like it. Do you know what I want?”

I hope I do, I just can’t say it out loud. The words are stuck.

“You want me to spread it don’t you?” she asked.

I nodded.

“What? Tell me. Say it.”

“I do, I want you to spread your ass cheeks.”


“Uh, I want to see you do it.”

“But it makes me so uncomfortable.”

“Please, please open your ass for me. Please Terry. Let me see your asshole, let me lick it.”

“All right Steve, if you make me do it I can spread for you. You can lick me, no matter how humiliating it is. If you make me.”

“I don’t need to make you, you love it when I lick you there. I can taste your cunt juices that have dripped down.”

“Oh God yes.” Her arm continued to shake the tablecloth. “I do. I love to spread for you, I love the feeling of your tongue on my asshole. But please, take the lube and drip it there.”

“I’m pushing my finger in your ass. Now, two. It’s so slick.”

“Steve?” she said, almost a little modestly. “I love your fingers. But, tonight they’re not enough. Could you…?”

“Could I what? What do you want me to do?”

“Could you…? Could you take your fingers out. Keep me open? Take your fingers out and fill the hole with something else?”

“What? A butt plug? Is that what you want in your asshole?”

“No no. Not a plug, not tonight. I want something warm. Something big, something hard, something hot.”

“Something like…?” I pushed. “What can I give you?”

“I… I want… I, um… Steve, can you take your lubed up cock and put it straight up my lubed up big, fat, open ass. Fuck me up the ass with your big hard cock? Please Steve, fuck my ass tonight. Ohhhh ohhhh ohhhhhhhhhh my gawddddddd. Fuck me fuck my ass. Ahhhhhhhhhhh.”

Her orgasm was intense. Intense, but quieter than I’m making it sound. The look in her eyes, which never wavered from mine. I’m not sure that she even blinked.

She quietly let out a gasp of air. “Oh my God, oh my God, did that just happen? What did I do? What did you do to me?”

Actually, no one around us looked up for even a second. There were enough people around that the restaurant background noise shield both of us. But still.

“I told you before. You’re beautiful. You’re gorgeous. That was amazing. You are so… You are really something.”

“Yeah, really something. And soaked now. How am I going to out of here? Everyone will see.”

“Everyone will see a spectacular looking creature. That’s all. And by the way Terry, what do you mean how will *you* get out of here? How will *we* get out of here? I’m soaked too. That was incredible.”

“You too? Oh my God, you too?” She beamed. “I did that to you? You made me take off my underwear in public, but I did that to you?”

I nodded.

“Fair play buster. I have a feeling this was just the warm up. Let’s enjoy our coffee so we can get home and start the main event.”

And what a night it was. Hallelujah.

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