We are enjoying a hot coffee in an intimate restaurant after sharing a lovely meal. Throughout dinner, the talk has been heavily under-toned with sexuality. I am ever aware of your dominance, the way your eyes look unwavering straight into mine, they way your hand reaches across the table to take my wrists and hold them locked together in your grip. My body reacts of its own accord to these gestures of ownership. My heart pounds, my cunt stays wet, my mind races ahead to anticipate your needs so that I will be ready. It comes as a shock, a wave of self-conscious despair when you instruct me firmly to excuse myself, go to the ladies room and remove my bra. I cannot deny you and do as you ask, proudly displaying my devotion to you as I return to the table. I’m fully aware as I walk through the crowded dining room back to our table that my nipples can be clearly seen through the white cotton blouse I am wearing. The look of pleasure I see upon your face eases my embarrassment...
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