Dinner Served Hot & Wet

The anticipation hung thick in the air, a palpable humidity clinging to the plush velvet of the booth as we waited for our reservation at Macy’s. It wasn’t just any dinner; this was “Cum for Dinner,” a clandestine affair we’d meticulously planned, a night dedicated solely to our desires. I’d insisted on a private table, tucked away in the darkest corner of the back room, far from the raucous music and prying eyes. Lucy, radiant in a figure-hugging, sheer black dress that barely concealed her curves, emanated an intoxicating scent of jasmine and something wilder, something primal. My own attire – a loose, dark linen shirt and tailored trousers – was deliberately provocative, designed to tease and entice. The absence of underwear was a silent invitation, a declaration of our mutual intent.

As we navigated the dimly lit streets, Lucy’s excitement built with each passing minute. She took control, her hand instinctively finding her own pleasure, her fingers tracing the sensitive skin of her clitoris. “I can’t believe how wet I am,” she whispered, her breath hot against my ear. “Put your hand here, feel the heat. It’s a volcano about to erupt.” Her touch was insistent, demanding, a delicious transgression that sent shivers down my spine. She squeezed my hand under her dress, her nails digging into my flesh as she eagerly anticipated the inevitable. The car ride felt like an eternity, each second a step closer to the brink.

Upon arriving at Macy’s, our waiter, a young man with an awkward smile and an overly attentive demeanor, led us to our secluded table. The candlelight cast long, dancing shadows across the dark wood, creating an atmosphere of both intimacy and secrecy. I ordered two glasses of chilled Sauvignon Blanc and, with a mischievous glint in my eyes, requested the “Finger Platter 4 Two.” The anticipation was almost unbearable. We knew what was coming, and the thought alone sent waves of pleasure rippling through my body.

As the wine arrived, Lucy, already in motion, began to explore her own pleasure, her fingers delicately navigating the folds of her dress. She moved with a slow, deliberate grace, each touch a deliberate provocation. A small, discreet smile played on her lips as she worked, clearly relishing the build-up. I leaned closer, studying her every move, savoring the anticipation of what was to come.

My hand, driven by an irresistible urge, slipped beneath her dress, feeling the subtle tremors that accompanied her self-stimulation. The sensation was electric, a potent cocktail of lust and desire. She seemed to sense my intentions, her movements becoming more frantic, more insistent. “Open your pants and take out your cock,” she commanded, her voice husky with anticipation. It was a direct challenge, an invitation to lose control.

With a sigh of surrender, I complied, unbuttoning my shirt and pulling down my trousers. The cool night air rushed over my exposed flesh, a stark contrast to the heat building within me. The feeling of exposure was exhilarating, liberating. As she took her place beside me, her hand swiftly and expertly positioned itself against my erect member. Her grip was firm, confident, and undeniably powerful. She began to tease, her fingers tracing the contours of my cock, igniting a fire deep within my core.

The waiter returned, checking on our wine and silently observing the increasingly animated scene unfolding before him. The added element of public intimacy only heightened the erotic tension, transforming our private desires into a shared spectacle. Lucy, lost in her own world of sensation, let out a primal groan as she reached the point of no return. She clamped her legs around my hand, her grip unyielding, determined to maintain control. Her entire body throbbed with pleasure, her breathing ragged and shallow.

The anticipation was almost unbearable, but it was an exquisite torture. As I felt my own body nearing the same precipice, I reached for my handkerchief, a small measure of control in the face of overwhelming desire. But it was too late. The release was inevitable. My cock erupted, a torrent of potent fluids spilling across the table, soaking my trousers and staining the pristine white linen. The waiter, overwhelmed by the spectacle, let out a startled gasp and promptly left, unable to bear the intensity of the moment.

Lucy, seemingly unfazed by the mess, took a moment to regain her composure before turning her attention back to me. She grabbed my hand, her grip surprisingly gentle as she guided my fingers into her pussy. The sensation was overwhelming, a surge of pleasure that threatened to consume us both. Her body shook violently, her hips thrusting against mine in a rhythm of pure abandon.

As we continued our frenzied dance, the waiter returned, this time accompanied by a tray laden with the finger snacks we’d ordered. He hesitated for a moment, his eyes wide with disbelief as he witnessed our uninhibited display. But the sight of our passionate embrace, the aroma of our arousal, and the sheer audacity of our actions overwhelmed his shock. He simply placed the plate on the table and retreated, leaving us to our own devices.

Lost in the throes of our shared pleasure, we continued to indulge in our desires, our bodies intertwined, our senses heightened. The wine flowed freely, the finger snacks vanished quickly, and the world outside faded into insignificance. It was a night of pure, unadulterated lust, a celebration of our connection, a testament to the power of desire.

As the intensity of our passion began to subside, Lucy gently removed her hand from my cock and lifted her head to rest against my shoulder. Her body remained wracked with shivers, a lingering reminder of the exquisite pleasure we’d just experienced. “Let’s take this game home,” she whispered, her voice husky with satisfaction. “There’s still plenty of room for more.”

With renewed vigor, we rose from the table and made our way out of Macy’s, leaving behind the remnants of our unforgettable evening. The city lights blurred around us as we walked, our bodies radiating heat and pleasure. It was a night we would never forget, a perfect example of the potent cocktail of lust, desire, and explicit content that defines our shared passion. The experience left us both breathless, wanting more, ready to repeat the ritual as soon as possible. It was, as we had planned, truly “Cum for Dinner.”

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