Assignment # 2: Date Night
Angela here again! Time for my second part of this unusual assignment. This time I decided it was time to try something a little more public, and on Friday night, together with my – still slightly doubtful – boyfriend Rob, I headed for a wine bar in the town centre. Nice place; dim lighting, cosy corners, good music , and a great wine list. As usual at the weekend it was crowded with all types of people, and I admit my courage nearly failed me at the door. But I took a deep breath, grasped Rob's hand tightly, and plunged in. Miracle; a group of people were leaving, and I managed to secure a small table in the far corner, while I sent Rob to the bar to get us a bottle of Merlot and some snacks. As I mentioned, this was a nice place, and I had made an effort correspondingly. Knee length pencil skirt, blouse tight but not obvious, with a couple of buttons undone to show a hint of cleavage, stockings and little heels. I knew I looked good, and after a glass of wine I began to feel fairly sexy, tossing my hair about and smiling and leaning towards Rob provocatively. I crossed and uncrossed me legs. I even went so far as to trail the tip of my finger in the wine, then suck it off slowly. Cheesy I know, but it certainly got Rob going. We were talking about nothing in particular; work, my flatmates, just the usual when we hadn't seen each other for a couple of days, but I could see that my outrageous flirting was making it harder and harder for him to concentrate. His eyes kept flicking to my breasts, and he was shifting in his chair and losing the thread of the conversation. When he paused for even longer than usual, I leaned forward and quietly asked him, “Do you want me?”
“God, Angela, of course I do!” he said. “I always want you, but tonight with your skirt, and your hair like this, and your legs…you're just gorgeous. Of course I want you; what man wouldn't?”
“So tell me.” I said, leaning towards him again. He leant back and looked at me uneasily. “What do you mean tell you? Is this for your magazine thing again?” “Yes and no” I told him. It will be useful for the article, but it will also be really exciting for me, and hopefully for you too.” He blinked at me. “So, what do you want me to do?” “Just tell me. Just tell me exactly how much you want me, how I make you feel, what you want to do to me. Tell me how you're going to do it. Tell me your plans for me tonight.” “What, here?” “Yes, right here.” I sat back, re-crossed my legs slowly, and looked at him.
Well bless him, he did his best. I could see he was embarrassed; he kept pausing, glancing around him, licking his lips, not looking me in the eye. So after a couple of minutes I took over. I told him how gorgeous he was, how I loved his shoulders and his eyes, how I daydreamed about his arse while I was at work. I told him exactly how much I loved fucking him, and I told him how excited I was just thinking about what we would do when we got home. I told him that he would already be half naked in the lift, that before we crashed through the door to his flat my fingers would already be wrapped around his cock, and that before we reached the bedroom it would be my lips. I talked to him about the feel of my silky hair brushing against his balls as I swallowed him whole, about how much I loved the taste of him. in my pussy for hours, how I tasted so good…”
He was brilliant. I was so proud, and yes – so, so turned on. I could feel the slickness between my legs as he described how he was going to push into me, just as the barman bent over us to replace our candle. When he had gone, I rested my face on my hands and stared into Rob's eyes. He was breathing hard, and his eyes were gleaming as he stared back at me. “Rob,” I said “All of that is going to happen. You were right about absolutely everything, except…” then I grabbed his hand, and, under the table, ran it right up under my skirt, so that he could feel the wetness, and feel that under my smart clothes, there was one thing missing. My knickers.
He sat stunned for a second without moving, then like lightening he jumped to his feet, and dragging me behind him practically ran to the toilets. As he slammed the cubicle door behind us, the last of our inhibitions were firmly shut outside.
We did not emerge from that cubicle for a very, very long time. It's safe to say that I won't be going back to that wine bar any time soon, and when I do go, I should maybe wear a wig. But oh, what a wonderful, wonderful date night!
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