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We were finishing our third bottle of beer each when
the fortune cookies arrived like telegrams we could choose for ourselves.
Deborah reached out as the plate was still being lowered. Jason followed
her hand. I should have learned then that there was no such thing as an
innocent smile on Jason. He slid into fever mode almost immediately. I
could almost feel him tasting the auburn down on Deborah's arm, like his
eyes were little tongues.
As Deborah cracked open the cookie her eyes shot like rockets aimed to
destroy targets in central-Jason. I heard myself asking for another beer
in lieu of a finalized tab. Can you bring it right away? There was this
dry mouth and that quick-release lever sprung--the one that permits
everything to continue.
That these two were connecting was obvious. It was exhilarating to watch.
Jason had slid his way slowly to her around the curve of the U-shaped
naugahyde. The two co-workers sat close together and across from me.
Deborah was recently hired and although we did office chatter together I
didn't know anything about her, really. But at least the two of us
interacted there and did talk. It looked to me even up until this morning
that she didn't know who Jason was. By the arrival of my after-lunch beer
Deborah was squirming slightly next to him, here in the bowels of the
Golden Dragon.
- You are eager to please. Make sure it brings benefit.
- A new friend has some interesting ideas.
- You will attend a party where strange customs prevail.
The last one was mine.
Deborah was average to an extreme in her appearance, if that's possible.
When she smiled it was pleasant, and I have not yet seen her get angry. I
had not yet seen her exhibit much of any drive or emotion at the office.
But I figured that was just the office. I was right. Here she was openly
squirming about something--something Jason was doing to her under the
table, across from me. Neither one of them was moving very much but it was
obvious that something was happening.
The jokes about our fortunes dried up and Deborah wondered aloud about
another beer, then decided against it. She leaned toward the end of the
booth, away from Jason, and excused herself. As she began her walk to the
restroom Jason slid out and followed her, blurting out "Nature calls." I
was sitting by myself.
I was sitting by myself for more than 10 minutes. It was Deborah who
returned, alone. She stopped a few feet from the table and turned away
from me. She slowly bent over retrieving something from the floor,
although there was nothing there. Her short loose skirt began to lift.
There it was: even though the thigh highs she wore were a nude shade, the
contrast of a pale milky skin crowning the sheer tops was still there,
arousing, nearly blinding. As she continued bending, I saw this whiteness
of flesh turn to a dark rosiness between her legs and her cheeks behind.
No panties. She stood bent over before me like this for a slow thud of a
heartbeat. Then she straightened up, smoothed down her skirt and sat next
to me. I took a slug of beer like a gasp for air.
"Order me a beer." I called the old waiter over. He kept looking at
Deborah. Apparently I was not the only one who watched her searching the
floor for something. After he left she turned to me and smiled. The
pleasantness I was so fond of now had an edge to it. I remained silent,
and in doing so I felt I was telling her what I had just seen. I didn't
smile back either, and this I felt was my way of telling her that what I
had just seen aroused me.
She looked around as the beer was placed before her. "Where's Jason?"
When I shrugged and said he hadn't returned yet she lifted the bottle and
took a few good gulps from it before placing it back on the table. Again a
new edge. "Did you enjoy what you saw?"
I was taken back by what she said, but I was also taken in by it. I
replied with a mumbled affirmation.
"Was that a yes? I want to see you nod. Did you enjoy watching?"
I lowered and raised my head slowly, catching the intensity of her stare
as I looked up. After I was done Deborah too nodded a yes to me as she
whispered "I enjoyed showing you."
I had no doubt that she did enjoy it. Her slight chest caused motion in
the folds of her simple white blouse as she told this to me. She lifted
the bottle once more and this time sipped, her lips tight against the
bottle, her eyes on me. She licked her lips and sighed.
"But something was missing, right? I'll bet you're the type of man who
would have liked to see what I wore under my skirt, and how snug it could
be against me. Even in me. No?" I went for broke when I heard this remark.
"I was surprised that you aren't wearing panties, if that's what you
mean." Saying the words was like allowing my fingers to begin touching her
in many places, repeatedly. " And yes, I think you have found that type of
man . . . " And here I stopped to empty that fourth bottle before
continuing. "The type of man who wonders what goes on under a table, the
type of man who wants a flash of stocking top, and thigh, and panty, the
type of man who has found it difficult to express these things before."
The edge on her smile sharpened with each word I spoke. "It's been
difficult because you have never known anyone like me before, right?" I
had to agree.
"Here." Her hand slid something into my lap and as it did so brushed
against my erect cock without any remark. I looked down and saw a bunching
of black lace tenting my tent. "I *was* wearing panties until I went to
powder my nose. You can imagine what your friend was doing to me under the
table, right?" She leaned into me and reduced her low voice to a whisper.
"They're all wet. Feel them."
I just stared at her.
"Don't you want to feel them?" She brushed my face with her fingers. I
took my own to the fabric.
"Don't you want to taste them? Look at me and taste them. Taste your
fingers now." Her hand dropped from my face to my crotch, unzipped my
pants and freed my hardon, resting gently upon it. Why did I think she
would automatically grab and yank me? She was moving over my cock with
only the slightest of pressure. Before I tasted her on my fingers I
brought them to my nostrils and Deborah let out a little gasp of pleasure
to see this. When they went into my mouth she squeezed me once, hard, and
her fingertips snaked around while her palm held me tight. The waiter
chose this moment to return for my empty bottle. Deborah and I didn't even
bother acknowledging his presence.
"Deborah, maybe we shouldn't be doing--"
"Oh, I'll bet you'd like to feel how nice and silky these can be around
your cock. Wouldn't you? Shhh . . . don't speak, just nod."
I'm glad I got that option because I'm not sure I could have spoken right
then. Very dry mouth, and I wasn't thinking of calling back the waiter. I
nodded, a bit quicker than the last time, and reached for her beer. She
intercepted my hand.
"No, no. I need that. You can't have it." She took the nearly-empty bottle
and swung it under the table. One of her legs kicked into me as she spread
them. I watched the rhythmic little movements her arm was making. When her
whole body barely began to move in time with her arm she brought the
bottle back to the table. "You know what I was doing under there, don't
you?" Her hand now draped the panties over my cock and began pumping. I
nodded my yes. I was learning.
The bottle remained on the table. I wanted that taste so badly but
couldn't move. I stared at Deborah as she jacked me off quickly into her
panties. For the minute or so it was happening her smile became wilder and
wilder. She directed her eyes to the beer bottle every so often, and
immediately afterward to my face and my cock. She spoke, a variant of her
previous comments.
"Nod yes just before. Nod yes just before, all right?" She pumped me
furiously. You will attend a party where strange customs prevail. Her
panties felt cool and soft and damp against my cock. My hips began to
move. I looked straight into her eyes and nodded, over and over. She
watched me, continued to handle me, did no more.
"What's the matter? What do you want?" I was nearly at climax.
"The beer."
"You want beer? Shall we order another round?" Her fingers separated and
ran over my balls, under my balls, into my ass. "Is that what you want?
Some beer?" Her fingernails scraped the insides of my thighs on their way
back up to squeezing my cock once more. "Tell me what you want."
"I want to taste you." I don't know how I kept my voice at the same
whisper level as hers. My words caused her hand to move down again,
retracing the route it had just traveled, this time with even more
urgency. Deborah was probably enjoying this as much as I was. That
possibility nearly made me lose it. "I want that bottle in my mouth. You
put it inside you. I want it in my mouth when I come."
Her free hand disappeared under the table, deep in her lap. I continued
nodding, trying my last-ditch best to hold off. "In your mouth?" Her tone
shifted slightly, and I knew better where the shift was taking her when
she continued. "Like a cock?"
She lifted the bottle and pointed it toward my lips. I could see fluid
coating most of its long neck. I wanted to taste it so badly while she
jerked me to climax. "Will you nod for me again?" She shook the bottle
from side to side and a drop of something flew off. I nodded, slow and
considered.
Deborah pressed the bottle between my lips and began moving it in much the
same way her hand was moving over my cock. I wondered whether the few
other patrons noticed any of this, and if they did would it somehow
translate into fun and games of no serious nature, much like how I saw
Deborah and Jason as they sat together and something set Deborah to
squirming.
"Tastes good, doesn't it?" I nodded once more as I came, with as little
additional movement as possible.
I continued to suck at the bottle a while as my body wound down, and the
taste I savored was lost. Deborah faked a sneeze and brought the black
"hanky" to her face, leaving something there rather than cleaning up. Just
a touch of something, barely visible, except for me who knew where the
wisp had been. She placed it in her purse, and I stuck my cock back in my
shorts and zipped up my pants. I never did drink the bit of beer that was
left in there. Deborah picked up the bottle and emptied it herself.
"I'll tell you. I really wasn't sure about you. I have a way of getting
men to open up quickly to me though, don't I? I knew you had a touch of
the voyeur in you; I could see that just from how you looked at people in
the office. As well as I've known Jason I wasn't sure he could pull this
off. He is not quite the exhibitionist I am. So for him to finger me in
front of you--well, he's a darling, isn't he? But he did get what he
wanted, the old peeper."
As she turned toward a couple of tables in the back I followed the
movement of her head and I saw Jason. He sat alone in the half-dark, his
hands in his lap.
"You know Jason?" I started to think we'd never get back to the office,
and I didn't care. I wanted to spend more time with both of them and,
besides, my dry mouth needed another beer.
"Yes, but I didn't want you to know that, right away. You understand why
now, don't you?"
I nodded one last time and looked again toward those tables. Jason smiled
an edgy smile, and nodded back. |
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