The Dinner Date (Part 2)

Chapter 1: The Dinner DateChapter 2: The Dinner Date (Part 2)

“So.”
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.”

“Mm, yes.”

“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?”

JR
Written by
Jayne Renault

comma chameleon. word witch. smut queen.

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