The Collar
Page 53
She laughed. “It was that way for me, too. You left and went to wash your hands. I was alone at the table, highly aroused, and had to make small talk like everything was normal.”
“I’d apologize,” he said, “but if I remember, I more than made it up to you once we got home.”
Her eyes darkened as she remembered. “You did. Definitely.”
He was uncomfortably hard. “Let’s talk about something else.” Before I fuck you on the table, he almost added.
“Just as well,” she said. “I need to decide what I want to eat.”
They silently studied their menus until the waitress came by for their order. After she left, Dena looked at him with a familiar naughty look in her eyes, and he knew he was in trouble unless he took control back.
She started to speak, but he stopped her by placing his finger over her lips. “Shhh. This table has some pretty long tablecloths, too. Typically, we talk before dinner, but tonight you’ll use your mouth for a different purpose. Namely, you can’t eat until you’ve sucked me off.”
Dena had always loved their public play, and by the gleam in her eyes, nothing had changed.
“That’s my favorite appetizer, Sir.”
“Then what are you waiting for?”
Without another word, she disappeared under the table. Within seconds, her hands were on him, undoing his pants. He fisted the tablecloth as her warm mouth engulfed him.
Fuck. What where they doing? They were acting like teenagers. He should pull her back up to the table and act like an adult.
Then she took him so deep in her mouth, he reached the back of her throat, and he decided maybe she could keep it up a little bit more.
“Excuse me, sir.” The waitress was suddenly standing by the table, and he could have kicked himself for not seeing her approach. “I didn’t ask what kind of salad dressing your friend wanted.”
He wasn’t sure, but he thought Dena was laughing around his cock.
“Uh, salad dressing?” he asked.
“Yes, sir. We have Italian, French, honey mustard, ranch, blue cheese—”
“Blue cheese. Yes, that’s it.” He remembered she’d ordered blue cheese once.
He thought.
But under the table, Dena shook her head “no” around his cock.
“No, wait. Not blue cheese.” He tried to think. Fuck, it was hard to concentrate on anything other than Dena’s mouth. “What were they again?”
“Italian, French, honey mustard …”
Dena’s head started nodding at “honey mustard.”
“Honey mustard,” he said in a tight voice.
The waitress wrote something down. “Got it. So,” she said, leaning against the wall to the right of the table. “I haven’t seen you before. Are you new in town?”
Fuck. Was she going to stand there and talk?
Under the table, Dena didn’t stop; in fact, she took him deeper.
He sucked in a sharp breath. “I’m caring for my father. He’s sick.”
“Where are you from, I mean if you’re just visiting here to help your dad?”
Damn it all. Yes, she was going to stand there and talk. And, yes, he was certain Dena was laughing under the table.
“Delaware,” he said, fisting Dena’s hair in order to still her.
It worked, and she kept her head still. But he was buried deep in her mouth, and she decided to suck harder and run her tongue up and down his shaft. With every sweep of her tongue, Jeff felt his release building. He would have to do his best to hold it back.
Fortunately, the waitress seemed to lose interest upon hearing he lived so far away. She pushed off the wall and left with an “I’ll go put this order in.”
As soon as she left, he thrust hard into Dena’s mouth and released down her throat, swearing under his breath. Seconds later, she slid up into her seat, wearing a grin and licking her lips.
“I thought that woman would never leave,” she said while he leaned back and gathered his breath. They locked gazes and laughed.
“Me, too,” Jeff admitted. “Thank God I’m not from around here or she’d probably still be here.”
“That was fun. We should do it again.”
He was getting ready to voice out loud that they were walking down a dangerous path when the waitress delivered their salads.
“Ah,” he said, looking down at the bowl of lettuce. “Saved by food.”
“Saved?” Dena cut into a tomato. “How so?”
Because I’m about ten seconds away from fucking you on top of the table. He cocked an eyebrow at her. “Best not ask that question.”
She gave him a sly smile that told him she knew why she shouldn’t be asking that question. She sighed. “Okay. If you insist.”
“I do.” He was operating on too little sleep and too much emotion to properly control himself if she continued playing him.
She seemed to understand his difficulty and thankfully changed the subject. For the next little bit, she caught him up on all the Wilmington gossip.
“How’s that mentee you’ve been helping Daniel with?” he asked halfway through their main courses.
“Ron? He’s doing okay, a little on the slow side. Daniel’s having to go over the same things repeatedly, and I can tell he’s not completely pleased with his progress. He had to have Cole run a session.”
“How’d that go?”
She took a bite of salad. “Pretty good. And by that I mean Cole didn’t make him cry.”
“What do you think?”
She took her time thinking through her reply. “I believe with enough work, he’ll become adequate, but he’ll never be a great Dom. There’s something inherent in the great ones. You guys are born with it. Not that there’s anything wrong with being adequate. He’ll be fine for someone looking for light or infrequent play.”
“Have you discussed your thoughts with Daniel?”
“Yes, several times. He agrees. Right now he’s just trying to give Ron enough knowledge so that he doesn’t hurt himself or anyone else.”
Daniel would do everything he could to ensure everyone’s safety. Plus, he had the patience and nature to firmly but kindly instruct and reinstruct. That was one of the reasons Jeff never took on a mentee. While he had some patience, if he had to reinstruct too many times, he had to admit he lost it.
“I’d apologize,” he said, “but if I remember, I more than made it up to you once we got home.”
Her eyes darkened as she remembered. “You did. Definitely.”
He was uncomfortably hard. “Let’s talk about something else.” Before I fuck you on the table, he almost added.
“Just as well,” she said. “I need to decide what I want to eat.”
They silently studied their menus until the waitress came by for their order. After she left, Dena looked at him with a familiar naughty look in her eyes, and he knew he was in trouble unless he took control back.
She started to speak, but he stopped her by placing his finger over her lips. “Shhh. This table has some pretty long tablecloths, too. Typically, we talk before dinner, but tonight you’ll use your mouth for a different purpose. Namely, you can’t eat until you’ve sucked me off.”
Dena had always loved their public play, and by the gleam in her eyes, nothing had changed.
“That’s my favorite appetizer, Sir.”
“Then what are you waiting for?”
Without another word, she disappeared under the table. Within seconds, her hands were on him, undoing his pants. He fisted the tablecloth as her warm mouth engulfed him.
Fuck. What where they doing? They were acting like teenagers. He should pull her back up to the table and act like an adult.
Then she took him so deep in her mouth, he reached the back of her throat, and he decided maybe she could keep it up a little bit more.
“Excuse me, sir.” The waitress was suddenly standing by the table, and he could have kicked himself for not seeing her approach. “I didn’t ask what kind of salad dressing your friend wanted.”
He wasn’t sure, but he thought Dena was laughing around his cock.
“Uh, salad dressing?” he asked.
“Yes, sir. We have Italian, French, honey mustard, ranch, blue cheese—”
“Blue cheese. Yes, that’s it.” He remembered she’d ordered blue cheese once.
He thought.
But under the table, Dena shook her head “no” around his cock.
“No, wait. Not blue cheese.” He tried to think. Fuck, it was hard to concentrate on anything other than Dena’s mouth. “What were they again?”
“Italian, French, honey mustard …”
Dena’s head started nodding at “honey mustard.”
“Honey mustard,” he said in a tight voice.
The waitress wrote something down. “Got it. So,” she said, leaning against the wall to the right of the table. “I haven’t seen you before. Are you new in town?”
Fuck. Was she going to stand there and talk?
Under the table, Dena didn’t stop; in fact, she took him deeper.
He sucked in a sharp breath. “I’m caring for my father. He’s sick.”
“Where are you from, I mean if you’re just visiting here to help your dad?”
Damn it all. Yes, she was going to stand there and talk. And, yes, he was certain Dena was laughing under the table.
“Delaware,” he said, fisting Dena’s hair in order to still her.
It worked, and she kept her head still. But he was buried deep in her mouth, and she decided to suck harder and run her tongue up and down his shaft. With every sweep of her tongue, Jeff felt his release building. He would have to do his best to hold it back.
Fortunately, the waitress seemed to lose interest upon hearing he lived so far away. She pushed off the wall and left with an “I’ll go put this order in.”
As soon as she left, he thrust hard into Dena’s mouth and released down her throat, swearing under his breath. Seconds later, she slid up into her seat, wearing a grin and licking her lips.
“I thought that woman would never leave,” she said while he leaned back and gathered his breath. They locked gazes and laughed.
“Me, too,” Jeff admitted. “Thank God I’m not from around here or she’d probably still be here.”
“That was fun. We should do it again.”
He was getting ready to voice out loud that they were walking down a dangerous path when the waitress delivered their salads.
“Ah,” he said, looking down at the bowl of lettuce. “Saved by food.”
“Saved?” Dena cut into a tomato. “How so?”
Because I’m about ten seconds away from fucking you on top of the table. He cocked an eyebrow at her. “Best not ask that question.”
She gave him a sly smile that told him she knew why she shouldn’t be asking that question. She sighed. “Okay. If you insist.”
“I do.” He was operating on too little sleep and too much emotion to properly control himself if she continued playing him.
She seemed to understand his difficulty and thankfully changed the subject. For the next little bit, she caught him up on all the Wilmington gossip.
“How’s that mentee you’ve been helping Daniel with?” he asked halfway through their main courses.
“Ron? He’s doing okay, a little on the slow side. Daniel’s having to go over the same things repeatedly, and I can tell he’s not completely pleased with his progress. He had to have Cole run a session.”
“How’d that go?”
She took a bite of salad. “Pretty good. And by that I mean Cole didn’t make him cry.”
“What do you think?”
She took her time thinking through her reply. “I believe with enough work, he’ll become adequate, but he’ll never be a great Dom. There’s something inherent in the great ones. You guys are born with it. Not that there’s anything wrong with being adequate. He’ll be fine for someone looking for light or infrequent play.”
“Have you discussed your thoughts with Daniel?”
“Yes, several times. He agrees. Right now he’s just trying to give Ron enough knowledge so that he doesn’t hurt himself or anyone else.”
Daniel would do everything he could to ensure everyone’s safety. Plus, he had the patience and nature to firmly but kindly instruct and reinstruct. That was one of the reasons Jeff never took on a mentee. While he had some patience, if he had to reinstruct too many times, he had to admit he lost it.
