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“I don’t know.”
“Can’t keep me in suspense,” he sipped more wine, licking his lips to savour the taste.
The red wine ignited the thread, dissolving my resolve. “It can be quite awkward. Especially if, let’s say, one is prematurely…” I lowered my voice, “entered.”
Tom’s eyes widened. He winked and grinned. “That terrible? It’s not a subject that receives much discussion. But the ideal of the hot thick shlong, now that’s a frequent ideal that appears in films…it’s what every sex toy is about, but strangely enough, I don’t feel threatened by sex toys.” He winked, “They don’t keep a woman warm at night, can’t talk and are quite challenged in respect to intimacy.”
I closed my mouth and nodded. Whether the wine or the topic of conversation, I felt rising dampness infiltrate my upper inner thigh area.
“More wine?”
I shook my head.
“Oh go one. It’s half a glass at the most.”
The wine tipped me over the edge; I needed to eat more, so ordered dessert straight after I polished off a rather small portion of spaghetti marinara. Trendy restaurants are mindful of appearance and, it seems, rental costs.
When my chocolate soufflé arrived, I half expected Tom to comment on my choice. Instead, we entered the familiar zone, one that I barely remembered with Paul.
“Here, let me try some.”
“Only if you let me try your Tiramisu,” I said, hardly expecting him to agree. Tom cut a sizeable chunk and offered it to me, which I accepted, without any oral innuendo. “Nice.”
His eyes gazed at my lips. I noticed his Adam’s apple bob a couple of times. I shifted in my seat and not from any repulsion. His salient response primed my arousal. I decided to take the conversation to the next allotted stop.
“How do you find using the adult web service? Do you find it daunting?”
“I don’t know. Are you…daunted right now?” he smiled.
I measured my words. “A little. I don’t know if I’m a little scared or unnerved, but I am a little frazzled.”
“That’s an interesting word, commonly used in relation to work and stress.”
“A good frazzled. Is there any other?”
Tom frowned. Even I hadn’t anticipated my delayed reaction. To save any more embarrassment, I loosened my mental hold on the conversation, throwing all caution to the farthest reaches of my conscious mind.
“I’m fine. It’s not the wine, I’m just a little nervous.” I signaled for him to come closer as our waiter hovered. When Tom came within whispering distance, I took in his exotic cologne. “I’m a little…turned on. Right now.”
His eyes met mine and I could tell that he felt a little uncertain himself. Was I having him on or was I mental? It couldn’t be that easy. So many thoughts danced behind his eyes.
“I’m not mucking about,” I said. If we weren’t seated at a round table for two, I would have taken his free hand and placed it beneath the skirt of my dress, up close to my damp crotch for him to feel the proof.
“What brought that on?” he huskily asked.
“I’m wondering what you’re capable of. I can’t stop thinking about your online message to me.”
“Which one?”
I swallowed and steadied myself. “L-Let me eat you. That message.” Even saying it in a whisper was enough to churn more sticky juices from my pussy.
(2 B Cont’d)
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