What turned out to be a Dinner Date with two who's urges and desires were so strong for each other....

Transcript

When I asked her what got her hot, I assumed it would be the usual fantasy. Getting taken out for a meal, cinema, kissed on the neck, massage, maybe leading to some sensual lovemaking. I wasn't ready for her actual answer.

She told me she liked to think of men wrapping their palms around their cocks and beating themselves off and then telling her about it. I mean, I'd never heard a woman say that before. I usually focus on their pleasure, making sure they come before me.

Almost my mission. I mean, I love it. It's not that I don't think of my own pleasure.

It's just I don't want to disappoint or leave the women unsatisfied, so my orgasm, or journey to orgasm, has never really been a thing. Like, I know I'm gonna come. That's a given, really.

Even if things don't turn out the way the evening had led us to believe, and we part ways, I can end my night in a wank if I like. But it will be a quick solo handjob to ease the burden, not some sort of seduction. But this is different.

She's got me thinking differently, almost as if I've reversed roles. We finished eating dinner, and as the waiter poured the first glass from the second bottle, she asked me, What do you think about when you wank? I spluttered wine over my empty plate and looked casually to the waiter, who thankfully retreated discreetly.

What? I asked, wondering if maybe I'd misheard. Her expression like that, that cat that got the cream, had told me I'd heard perfectly.

I said. She leaned in and pretended to pick fluff off the front of my shirt. I could smell her sweet wine breath with hints of the rich garlic sauce we'd just consumed.

What do you think about when you wank? On the last words, her gaze met mine, and she licked her lips slowly. Well, I shifted in my seat.

We hadn't even fucked yet, though she was by far the most sexual woman I'd ever met. Jesus, the promise of a good time in bed cascaded from her. She used sensuality, intrigue, and I could not get enough.

I don't know. She raised her left eyebrow in a way that told me my answer would not do. I mean, I've never really thought about it.

She sighed well. If you don't know what you think about when you wank, how will you know if you're going to be any good in bed? What? Her question made no sense.

How does that follow? I like a man to know himself, really know himself. She took me in, her seductive brown eyes easing over my face, then shoulders, then shirt buttons.

I think I could imagine what she was thinking right now. Why don't I show you how much I know myself? I said.

It was a risky strategy. We'd been playing this flirty game for four dates now, and the yearning I had to feel my body slip inside hers was becoming unbearable. It was like the dating equivalent of edging, and I felt like I was going to blow.

By the way, she stiffened ever so slightly. I knew I'd been too crass. Fuck.

I could have kicked myself. It's not like I was enjoying what we had on this level. I was, really was, and I'm no stranger to sexual denial or that glorious build-up, that tease.

It makes things all the better when they did finally happen. Sorry, it's okay, she said. I've been called worse than a prick tease.

Well, I didn't say anything of the sort. Now it was my turn to be pissed off. We'd managed to break the spell we'd so carefully been casting over the past few weeks.

A delicate web of arousal, desire, denial, and back and forth. Okay, listen. I'll tell you what I'm going to do to myself tonight, and what I'll be thinking about, and then on our next date, I want you to tell me what you did and what you thought of, she said, as if trying to pull the mood back.

I was a bit skeptical, but let's face it, her fucking gorgeous body and fuck-me-eyes would provide plenty of food for thought, if you will. And don't say you were thinking of me. That's predictable and psychophantic.

I can't be bothered with that. Jesus, I was beginning to feel my potential harden soften. This was starting to feel like something other than a flirtation.

I exhaled and sank back into my chair. She was losing me now. If this was how it was to be before we'd even fucked, imagine what a relationship might be like.

I tried to formulate a breakup sentence that wouldn't sound like I was butthurt about not getting sex. It had gone beyond that. I felt a bit insulted, to be honest.

Listen, I. .. she looked shocked.

She clasped her hands to her mouth, looked genuinely regretful of what she was about to say. Her eyes sparkled behind her palm, and I knew she was smiling. What the fuck? And then she laughed.

She kept smiling and reached for her wine, but the pulse at the clavicle gave her away. She was nervous now. Okay, so, explain.

I took a swig from my own glass, but kept my gaze firmly upon her. I watched her as she began to explain. Her body sat there, in the chair, the lights of the restaurant hitting her gorgeous skin.

She took a pause to swallow and touched her fingertips to the décolleté, her glaze flicking down my shirt buttons one at a time, as if she could open them with her mind. Well, fuck. I could start telling her that it was most certainly responding right now, but not to my touch, but to her words.

Shit. My dick was now straining into my dress, trousers pressing against the rough seam of my boxers. It felt.

.. it felt tight, and stifled, and fucking sexy. I began to understand.

She was getting me to really think about what was happening. To take in the physiology of my body, and as weird as it sounds, it was turning me on even more. My thoughts drifted to her body again, and her arousal.

What was it like for her to do this? Okay, I think I get the idea. I shifted in my seat to signal that I definitely got the idea.

She smiled, knowing exactly what happened. And you? She replied, cocking her head to the side as if she'd forgotten everything we'd just been talking about.

Yes, you were going to tell me what you were going to do to yourself tonight, and what you'll be thinking about. She grinned. But you better not say you'll be thinking of me.

That's predictable, and psychophantic. I can't be bothered with that. Touché.

She held my gaze unwaveringly, and reached out to take my hands in hers over the empty dinner plates. She leant over and whispered in my ear, Tonight, I will most definitely be touching myself, and thinking about you, and your beautiful thick dick. And then I will finger fuck myself.

Jesus, my cock was almost painful, and I had to adjust my position. She didn't miss a thing, and raised that sexy eyebrow again, knowing precisely what she was doing to me. I will slam back on the front door, driving my hands beneath my skirt, and pull my drenched knickers to one side, plunging my fingers right into my sopping cunt.

Her voice was a raspy whisper. She'd kept the volume so low the surrounding tables wouldn't hear, but part of me wished someone would, if only to bear witness, She let me know I hadn't fallen into some fancy sex dream. This woman was fucking incredible.

Erotic words dripped from her filthy, slick mouth like cherries on the breeze, and I ate them up, their succulent sweet flesh sliding into me. Goosebumps skittered down my nape and over my shoulders as I witnessed her nipples stiffen and bead beneath her blouse. Then what? I breathed.

Barely a sound came out. I looked over and whispered once more into my ear, Why don't you find out? I quickly took the pill, and hurried her quickly back to my place.

I invited her through the front door, and barely a moment passed before she was all over me. Her lips around my lips, her hands around my waist, reaching for my cock. A tingle runs down my spine.

I tug my cock up, dragging my balls to it feels so good. I threw her onto the sofa and took a moment to inhale her delicious scent. She's everything I knew she would be, sweet, salty, musky, hot, and oh so fragrant.

I bury my nose between her lips, bathing my face in her sweet juices. The groan that comes from her throat is telling me she's desperate for more, desperate for me to suckle her straining clits. Her fingers tangle in my hair, she draws me deeper, pulsing into my mouth.

I open her pussy with my tongue, and find the scent stiffen up where I feast and devour. Her groans get louder, and I lift one arm wrapping it around her thigh, and grabbing at her ass as I eat her. She dips lower, spreading herself for me, and I take the hint, sliding two fingers up into her welcoming hole from behind.

She's wet, so fucking wet, and I ram my fingers home. She growls this time, and grips tighter, pushing onto me, shrieking as it's too awkward. I have to bring my arm around to the front to give her a proper three finger fucking.

She shifts to accommodate me, and I start thrusting three thick digits knuckle deep into her hot cunt. Lick by lip, her fever mounts, and before I know it, she's spasming and rhythmically pulsing around my fingers, and my whole hand is slathered in her beautiful silky cum. And then, after the twitching subsides, she releases me, and stares into my eyes with a huge grin.

She slowly bends her knees and squats hovering over my dick, which is honestly harder than it's ever been. I'm gonna blow very fucking soon. When she finally sinks low enough, her pussy swallows me up, wraps around me, and grips me like a fist.

She's so fucking slick, and starts to slide up and down faster and harder, her tits bouncing in my face, her hair flickering over my shoulders, oh fucking god, she's incredible. Before I can take a breath and savour the moment, the surge in my balls overtakes me, and the warm gush starts shooting up my dick. Her pussy squeezes tighter, my cock thrusts deeper, and there it is.

I cum. I cum so fucking hard, and erupt all my emotion out into this beauty of a fucking woman. Holy fucking shit indeed.

What a woman. I run my thumb over the tip of my cock, and over the tip of her pussy, as the gentle drips of cum fall down my hand. I'm hoping, I think I might be in the right thinking, that maybe, maybe this time, we broke the rules.