The Dinner Date
The Dinner Date (Part 2)
With my wine glass dangled between both hands, I pressed my forearms into the island’s edge and leaned in. “We’ve got some time yet before the next course is ready… Have you thought of a question for me yet?”
We’d been playing this game lately to encourage and enrich our conversations surrounding our still budding, ever-evolving sex life. Mostly because talking about all the possibilities gets me crazy turned on, but also because I like the pleasant side effects it had on our deepening connection in general. Lucky for me, he was more than happy to indulge me.
“Hmmm…” He wiped the last of his meal from the corners of his mouth and dropped his napkin next to his cleared plate. “Yeah, I think I got one.”
“Alright. Let’s hear it.”
“So, I know you’re into girls.”
“Ohmigod, because girls are soooo pretty.”
“Oh. My god, right? Agreed. One hundred percent. But so my question is: how much practical experience do you have with them? If any.”
I flashed a coy smile at him.
“What?” he laughed defensively.
“Nothing. I’m just a little surprised it’s taken this long for us get to this talking point.”
“What, I can’t just show you my whole hand just like that!” His face stayed locked on mine as he swiveled back and forth in his seat. “I have to play my cards wisely if I want to keep you around. If we rushed through everything too quickly, you’d get bored of me and find someone else to play with.”
“Look at that. More than a pretty face; he’s a quick study too.”
He just winked and took another swig from his glass as I cleared our plates out of the way for us and put them in the sink for later.
“Well, let’s see.” I turned around again to face him, leaned into the counter behind me, and crossed my arms over my chest, looking to the ceiling to create a more pensive air about me. “I guess I’ve”—air quotes—“dated three girls. One of those was more of a queerplatonic situation though.”
His eyebrows got curious again.
“That is to say that we were pretty in love and didn’t bang. And we were very happy like that.”
“Ah, right. Okay, cool.” There was nothing facetious in his tone.
“But… I’ve also been roped—sometimes literally—into a few threesomes with so-called straight couples.”
He stopped swiveling and failed to hide the way he squirmed ever-so-slightly in his seat instead. “You don’t say…”
“Mm-hmm. Oh, and I’ve attended some pretty steamy all-women sex parties, so,” I couldn’t suppress my smile when his eyebrows slid right up to his hairline, “I guess you could say my practical experience with women is pretty nuanced.”
He didn’t say anything. Just pinched his bottom lip between his teeth like he just needed to nibble on something.
“What?” I asked.
“Nothing,” he said with the slightest shake of his head. “That’s just… way hotter than anything I expected you to say, jesus.”
“Never underestimate me, my dear.”
“I promise you, I don’t.” He bit his lip again and, though he didn’t move, he seemed to look at me from a different angle. “Your turn.”
“Well, I think I’m going to piggy-back on this question and throw it back at you. How about you? What’s your deal with people who aren’t pretty girls like me?”
“I mean,” he rose from his seat and came over to my side again, “if a handsome dude—lady, whoever—is handsome, I’ll be the first to admit it. Zero shame there.”
He stood right next to me then and played with the short ends of my hair as he continued his confession.
“But my experiences with other guys haven’t been quite so… hand-some, if you know what I mean.” He wrapped his fingers around the nape of my neck and squeezed as he said it.
I closed my eyes, melting into his touch. “Mmm, I think I’m picking up what you’re throwing down.”
“I guess I’ve thought about it,” he added. “Because you know me—I’m not afraid to get a little handsy with the people I like. I’ll hug just about anyone.”
“You’re pretty good at it too.”
He smiled again. “But yeah, there have definitely been times, usually when I’m a little tipsy so, you know, inhibitions,” he waved goodbye at the air, “that the odd embrace with certain guys in the past that… well, it’s made me think about it.”
“But that’s as far as it’s ever really gone. If we’re being honest…” His face softened the way it always does when he lets himself be vulnerable with me. “I just… don’t even know where I would start, even if I had the chance.”
“Yeah, I totally get that.”
“Besides,” his tone lifted again. “I kind of like where I am right now.”
I sighed a long exhale. His words had every inch of me flaring for more and my appetite was already well past piqued for him.
“Do you think you would you though?” I pushed a little further. “Maybe like to kiss a boy? Maybe more even more?”
He looked pleasantly contemplative as his answers tumbled out. “I guess? I mean, for the right boy? Yeah, probably?”
“I like that answer.” I turned then to peek inside the oven quickly—dessert was almost ready; he took the opportunity to slip a hand up my outer thigh and under my skirt. “Because—ohh, yep, I like that too—because I needed someone to graft into an ongoing fantasy of mine.”
“Oh?” He gave the bare cheek of my ass a squeeze. “And which fantasy is that?”
“The one where I bring two boys into my bed who are extremely generous with me,” I pushed back into his hips, "and maybe also with each other.”
The bulge in his jeans thumped right into me and his exhale rattled from somewhere at the back of his throat.
“Fuck…” he said. The cool air was nice on my flesh when he lifted my skirt up to expose my ass to him. “Well, it seems that… is also hotter than I expected it to be.”
I felt the generous wetness growing between my folds again and worried for a moment what it might do to his black pants, but I figured: he’s a grown-up—he can make that call for himself. I pushed back again, rubbing myself with more intent into his ever-straining erection.
“Hmm… Yeah, I think—ohhh yes please keep doing that—with the right guy… this is a kind of hot I could be very into…” He bowed over me and slid a hand up the front of my shirt, cupping one breast as he kissed the top of my spine. “If nothing else, I think I’d really love to watch you lose your mind with that much attention on you.”
My voice took on a breathy whine. “Mmm, yes, I want that too. I love the idea of you fucking me from behind, just like this, while he rams himself down my throat.”
His hand then slipped under the front of my skirt and teased between my folds.
“Jesus, you’re wet,” he gasped.
I ignored the comment and added my hand to his, encouraging him to slide deeper. “And then watching him suck all my juices off you.”
Feeling around behind me with my other hand, I fumbled with his belt and buttons to reach down his pants. As far as I could tell, he didn’t seem to mind this fantasy of mine at all.
“Unf… And then maybe…” His mouth was too dry—syllables kept tripping on his tongue as he tried to find any semblance of footing. “Maybe you’d like me to know what you taste like on him.”
“Yes, I really would.” I tugged around at his pants until he pulled them right down for me and we released his cock together. “Ohhh, I really, really would. Just thinking about you guys kissing is making me dizzy.”
He pulled his hand away from my pussy while I stroked him with a gentle, firm hand, until I heard the telltale tear of foil. He took his cock from my hand. I groaned at his momentary absence, leaning my forehead to the counter and reaching between my legs to play idly with myself.
“Fuck, I am so wet for you right now.”
“You don’t say.”
He didn’t tease me first that time. He slid his sheathed cock into me in one deft thrust, filling me completely. I keened, high and breathy, and slammed my hand on the cutting board when he reached my limits. (Don’t worry, the knife was put away by then.)
“There’s one thing though,” I panted between thrusts, “that I can’t figure out yet is which I’d like more…”
“Yeah?” His voice was more of a grunt, equally labored. “What’s that?”
“Your cock in his mouth. Or his in yours.”
He groaned and dragged me up into him by my hair, pulling me flush to his body as he pumped a little harder, a little deeper into me.
“And what about you?” he panted right into the shell my ear. “What are we going to do with you? There are a lot of ways to get two hard cocks into you.”
I whined and pushed back harder on him until he wrapped his hand around my throat and tightened the grip on my hair.
“I knew you’d like that… Maybe you should let me fuck that tight ass of yours since I already know what you like back there, while we let him get a proper taste of this gorgeous pussy.” He released the grip on my hair to find my clit instead as he said it.
I just moaned approvingly.
“Yeah, is that want you want? To have both of our cocks in you at the same time?”
“Yes!” I coughed through the strain of his grip on my throat. “Oh my god, that’s exactly what I want.”
He spun me around then and splayed me down flat over the island. But before he could slide back into me, I growled, “Wait,” and I pushed him away and turned over to face him.
I scooched back on the hard, flat surface and spread my knees a little wider. With my eyes trained on him, I coated my fingers in thick saliva and rubbed my clit in earnest. He was gloriously disheveled then—chest heaving, hair mussed, shirt and vest both unbuttoned dangling like curtains around his ever-hard cock, which he held in one hand as his eyes moved from my face down to my working hand and back up again.
“Are you sure you can handle all that?” he asked between breaths.
“I’m pretty sure I can. The question is: could you?”
His tongue darted out to lick his bottom lip before he bit down on it the way he does, as he raised his curious eyebrows and cocked his head at me.
That was enough to throw me over the edge. I scrubbed my clit into oblivion and nearly sobbed as I gushed over the wood surface of my island. I might have fallen right over the literal edge if he hadn’t moved in to catch me in time. When I tried to stand, I lost my balance.
“Whoa there. Just give yourself a minute.” Shudders tracked up and down my body while he held me steady.
I buried my face into in chest and an exasperated “Wow” was all I could manage.
“Whenever you’re ready…” he said as he stroked my hair, “we should probably clean up before any more dessert, hey?”
“Yes,” I grumbled. “Probably a good idea.”
Once everything in the kitchen was back in order, I sent him into the living room with the task of lighting candles and pouring more wine.
“So… I think I have another question,” he said with a slightly raised voice.
I was around the corner in the kitchen—out of sight, but still well within earshot.
“Oh yeah, what’s that?” I called back as I laid a generous piece of coconut creme pie onto a white serving plate.
“Who is this other guy in your fantasy?” he asked. It was playful, but the semi-serious undertone wasn’t lost on me. “Anyone I know?”
His eyebrows furrowed with a different kind of confusion when I came into the room with three pieces of pie in my hands. Before he could say anything, the doorbell rang.
“Funny you should ask,” I said. "Would you like to find out?”
More by Queen Jayne:
The Birthday Bash
Comings and Goings
Curry On, My Haywardson
Diamonds and Pearls
The Edge of Glory
Expressions of Grief
For Dommestic Use Only
The Slap Bet
Strangers on a Train