Foreman kept moving his hand as Amber tried to pin it between her thighs. Back and forth. A strong, heavy pressure, then a short teasing brush. He had no idea if he was winning or losing this game, but the longer it kept up, the less he cared. He felt more like a teenager than ever, holding back his groans, his jaw tight with how hard he was clenching his teeth not to let loose how he was feeling, like he was hiding a furtive beat-off session behind the bathroom door. "Yeah," he said raggedly. I love watching you. God, he couldn't say that, not even if he wasn't trying to keep back as much as he could. It was their second--third?--date, and they might be practically fucking in public, but he couldn't say that.
"Amber--" Her name jerked out of him when she started undoing his belt. The word stop leaped to mind, but he swallowed it down. Couldn't give in. Her fingers were deft, more skillful than he could have ever imagined. It seemed like only seconds until her hand was inside his pants. Close. Stroking him. Eroding his control. Foreman sucked in a deeper, even breath, and reached for his wine with his free hand. He took a sip, although it wasn't the wine he was savouring. The pull of silk across his cock was light, slippery, so fucking close to perfect. When his hand dropped back under the table, he brought his napkin with it, pushing it against the back of Amber's hand. He was not going to walk out of here with a semen stain on his shirt, and he hoped Amber took the hint. From her words, maybe she wouldn't care about that either. The more she spoke, the more the sounds of the restaurant faded from Foreman's attention. He forced his eyes open, taking another look around. That was the only thing saving him from coming on the spot: knowing that he might be watched. He'd kept up his own efforts at bringing Amber off by an act of will, and his fingers were already moving harder and faster. He had to get the better of her, and fast, before they both went too far.
"I think you're wrong." Start with a challenge, to make sure she was listening. "I know you don't like to lose, but if you--mmn--do that--much longer, then you will." He'd looked around when Amber did, seen the woman who was peeking furtively at them from across the room. What could she see? The tablecloth moving? How close Foreman was sitting to Amber? The soft, intimate way Amber had leaned in to whisper in his ear? Whatever it was, she kept looking back. She suspected, at least. Embarrassment burned through Foreman, but it wasn't as strong or as hot as the feel of Amber's fingers curving around his cock through his shorts. And Amber hadn't stopped after seeing that they were being watched. She'd grown bolder, more brazen. She liked it--wanted to be seen. "I could...follow you back to the bathroom. Have you up against the door." Foreman clenched his teeth, struggling to keep too many images, too many sensations at bay just a little longer. It wasn't his fantasy, his kink, but he could see how to drive Amber over the edge, make her picture everything the way she'd been invading his imagination since this evening began. If he could just hold on to his control a little longer. Keep touching Amber, firm circles over her clit with the heel of this hand, teasing strokes along the damp material with his fingers, pressing up rhythmically, so close to being inside her. Ignore the eager, dangerous play of her fingers up and down the length of his erection, the treacherous heat of pleasure building in the pit of his stomach. Foreman leaned in, his lips warm and close against Amber's ear when he finished speaking. "Anyone could be listening. Right on the other side. I'd fuck you until you couldn't stay quiet."
no subject
"Amber--" Her name jerked out of him when she started undoing his belt. The word stop leaped to mind, but he swallowed it down. Couldn't give in. Her fingers were deft, more skillful than he could have ever imagined. It seemed like only seconds until her hand was inside his pants. Close. Stroking him. Eroding his control. Foreman sucked in a deeper, even breath, and reached for his wine with his free hand. He took a sip, although it wasn't the wine he was savouring. The pull of silk across his cock was light, slippery, so fucking close to perfect. When his hand dropped back under the table, he brought his napkin with it, pushing it against the back of Amber's hand. He was not going to walk out of here with a semen stain on his shirt, and he hoped Amber took the hint. From her words, maybe she wouldn't care about that either. The more she spoke, the more the sounds of the restaurant faded from Foreman's attention. He forced his eyes open, taking another look around. That was the only thing saving him from coming on the spot: knowing that he might be watched. He'd kept up his own efforts at bringing Amber off by an act of will, and his fingers were already moving harder and faster. He had to get the better of her, and fast, before they both went too far.
"I think you're wrong." Start with a challenge, to make sure she was listening. "I know you don't like to lose, but if you--mmn--do that--much longer, then you will." He'd looked around when Amber did, seen the woman who was peeking furtively at them from across the room. What could she see? The tablecloth moving? How close Foreman was sitting to Amber? The soft, intimate way Amber had leaned in to whisper in his ear? Whatever it was, she kept looking back. She suspected, at least. Embarrassment burned through Foreman, but it wasn't as strong or as hot as the feel of Amber's fingers curving around his cock through his shorts. And Amber hadn't stopped after seeing that they were being watched. She'd grown bolder, more brazen. She liked it--wanted to be seen. "I could...follow you back to the bathroom. Have you up against the door." Foreman clenched his teeth, struggling to keep too many images, too many sensations at bay just a little longer. It wasn't his fantasy, his kink, but he could see how to drive Amber over the edge, make her picture everything the way she'd been invading his imagination since this evening began. If he could just hold on to his control a little longer. Keep touching Amber, firm circles over her clit with the heel of this hand, teasing strokes along the damp material with his fingers, pressing up rhythmically, so close to being inside her. Ignore the eager, dangerous play of her fingers up and down the length of his erection, the treacherous heat of pleasure building in the pit of his stomach. Foreman leaned in, his lips warm and close against Amber's ear when he finished speaking. "Anyone could be listening. Right on the other side. I'd fuck you until you couldn't stay quiet."