So, he said, as the second bottle of wine was opened by the waiter in an over priced gourmet restaurant where they had just had foie gras with mandarin and shrimp with chocolate.
So, what if I were to tell you to touch yourself right now, would you do it?
She reached over to cover a bit of her thighs with the white mantel, and she did, she touched herself and wished, desired to be touched by him, or by the waiter or whoever was near by.
It wasn’t a business lunch, but it could have been, almost. Or so it seemed.
But wine with an intelligent conversation, many languages and countries in between, twenty years apart in age and so many confessions to be said, had taken them to that point, where he was asking her to touch herself, and she did.
They drank, and toasted, to serendipity and to all the circumstantial circumstances which had taken them there, in this gray afternoon when she had arrived wearing a hat and a matching coat.
He hadn’t told her where to go, but she had hopped on a taxi and he texted her, take this road, now go right, turn left on that street, go straight. The expectation was growing in her mind and between her thighs, riding a taxi without knowing where she was going to end up. The cab driver probably thought she was a spy, or a prostitute, or a model. She even told him to stop at some points because she didn’t have the next set of directions. When she arrived at the restaurant, she smiled and walked in, asking for his table.
They talked, and seduction was not on the menu, or so they thought. Or so she thought.
But as the cups of wine kept disappearing from their sight, the things they didn’t dare say, arose.
And he kept telling her of all those things they could do, or he would do, if, for example, they were in an airplane, aisle to aisle. He would tell her to touch herself, and the guy sitting next to her would participate. And then, she would have to go to the toilet, and touch herself again.
When they got wherever they were going, in the car, he would fondle her, and lick and bite her nipple as the car driver saw them. When they checked in, he would stay at the lobby checking things and she would ride the elevator with the bellboy, who was so tall and so gorgeous and she would have to do things to him without penetration. And then, and then.
She was drinking wine, and listening to him, looking out the window. Wetting herself while wetting her lips.
She got up, said excuse me, and went to powder her nose. She locked herself in, and started to touch herself. She was wet enough to do so, and began to quiver.
She finished, washed her hands, set a stray hair into behind her ear, smiled, and walked out.
He was coming out of the bathroom too, just opposite the ladies room. They smiled, and she said, so, did you enjoy yourself?
Yes, but not as much as you did.
And they went back to a lunch which had turned into a dinner with a twist and a kink, with a tad of flirt.
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