Close: The Other Side

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Across the table where Gypsy and Master dine.
1.3k words
4.21
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Part 2 of the 2 part series

Updated 08/31/2017
Created 06/30/2003
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Tom and Sue have just been seated at a table in this nice establishment for dinner. They are looking forward to a good meal and a quiet evening on the town – away from the kids. Tom is in his 40s, a bit weary, Sue is his wife of many years, attractive but a bit pinched about the mouth. Tom and Sue are dressed expensively, but their dress is incompatible, as he is casual and she overdressed.

They glance up as another couple is escorted to the corner booth across from their table. The man moves with an easy grace, slim hipped and broad shouldered, youthful despite his gray-touched hair. He is casually dressed, as suits this town, slacks, a button down collar, and sports jacket. He is accompanied by a woman with dark copper hair whose most spectacular features are her cheekbones and smouldering eyes which flash from time to time, and her erect bearing emphasizes the sway of her hips. She wears a red dress, simple in style, a vee-neck shows some cleavage. The hem of the slightly full skirt brushes her knees. Something about them is compelling.

Dinner is served, Tom and Sue enjoy their dinner, but largely without conversation. They people watch for entertainment, long since having run out of things to say to each other. The couple in the corner booth provide some interesting moments, as they seem to be glued together at the hip and the woman spends much time gazing at her escort. Tom thinks it would be nice to have a woman look at him in this way. Sue thinks that redhead is rather obvious. The man is handsome and attentive. She considers it would be nice if Tom would act that way toward her. They’re most likely not married, sue decides. She sniffs her disdain.

Movement under the corner table catches Tom’s eye as he glances toward the couple in the booth again. It’s all he can do to keep his head from snapping around. As he casts quick glances, he sees more and more female leg becoming bare. My God! He can see almost all the way to her quim! Her knees are still closed tightly, almost primly. Each time he looks he has a new vista. More and more white thigh is exposed. Her skirt is nearly to her waist! Now her knees separate slightly and his view is dead on. He looks quickly again at the woman, her face is scarlet and she is looking at the man with large, startled eyes, almost pleading.

Sue settles back to enjoy her dessert and coffee. She leans forward to say something catty to Tom when she catches his sideways look. Her eyes follow his glance – that woman in the corner booth is sitting with her legs aspraddle – and gasps. A deep flush creeps up Tom’s neck. Caught! Sue leans forward and whispers to Tom, “What in the world. . . . .?” Tom shushes her. Offended she sits back. Tom gives up glancing and stares. Sue stares as well, on hand crossed on her breast, the other at her mouth.


A hand intrudes on Tom’s view and then broadens it. There is no doubt that his view now includes the pink fastnesses between her legs with no obscuring bush! Tom’s erection is almost immediate with this discovery. Does he actually see liquid sheening the red flesh or is it his imagination? Tom’s stare is rewarded with the sight of two fingers disappearing into the cleft and returning, there begins a rhythm. Tom is fascinated. His breathing accelerates. Sue has vanished from his mind.

Sue is still silent. She glances down and then back again to the scene being played out just eight feet away. That man is playing with that slut! The thought that Tom barely touches her there passes through her mind. Her own legs clamp closed. As she watches, the slow motion of the fingers playing in the damp, shadowed field sends jolts of electric energy through Sue, tightening about her chest and tingling in the center of her sex. Her breathing accelerates.

Tom watches, fascinated. The redhead’s eyes are closed and she is leaning against the back of the booth. Her breasts heave unevenly as if she is having trouble breathing. He can see her nipples pushing at the fabric of her dress. The man turns to the redhead and speaks to her in low tones. Her eyes open and meet . . . Tom’s! Tom almost flinches, but cannot stop watching. The redhead’s face again blanches and the flushes scarlet. A knowing smile begins to form on Tom’s face. A few more whispered words. The redhead licks her lips, her head nods and comes erect.

Sue is enthralled. As she stares, unbelieving, from the sides the redhead’s hands open the lips of her cunny, stretching the skin at the top and the man’s finger begins a rapid dance back and forth across the pearly nubbin now exposed to her view. Sue looks up at the man. He has a curiously blissful look on his face as he watches the redhead. The redhead’s eyes have closed again, and she has become almost motionless, except for an undulation of her hips that follows the man’s hand as if seeking to catch and devour it.

Another whisper and the redhead’s eyes fly open. The man across from her is almost drooling and his trousers sport a new damp spot near the bulge that deforms them. His hand is clenched on his own thigh as if to squeeze it into submission. The woman’s breath is a visible pant and the hand on her breast is unconsciously kneading her nipple. A flush spreads up her neck. The redhead strains upward as if drawn by her breasts on marionette strings. She sucks a breath inward and it stops. Her face a masque, emotion shown only in her unseeing eyes which are slowly shuttered, as her hands clench the linen beneath the table’s edge. Her knees rise as her feet curl downward. Soft noises reach Tom and Sue’s ears — a soft inhaled oooooooo followed by a gutteral sound echoed from the redhead’s throat, her mouth almost closed. A quick flick of tongue and teeth capture her lower lip. As he hears this muted animal cry, Tom’s own breath ceases its sussurrations, his cock strains toward its own release. Sue, too, holds her breath. The scene holds a horrid fascination for her – a marvel, an obscenity, a delight – it grips her consciousness.

As the strokings slow, the redhead trembles visibly with each apogee, relaxing more each time the shudder passes. The man whispers in her hear and her eyes open languidly. A small smile turns the corners of her mouth upward. Her chin lowers and she fixates on her audience, a citrine flash from her eyes glints in the light of the candle on the table. Her hands lower the curtain of her skirts as she returns the couple’s stares.

Tom has the grace to blush. He looks to Sue. Sue looks at the table and a dark flush stains her neck, rising to her cheeks. Sue and Tom look across the table, over each other’s shoulders at the other diners. No one else seems to have been privy to this unusual sight. Tom glances back at the corner booth. The redhead sips wine as she listens to the man. An adoring expression is on her face; she watches his mouth drinking in his words, eyes raised and open.

A few minutes more pass. The bill is paid. The man steps down from the booth and hands the redhead from her seat in a courtly manner, and draws her hand to lead her toward the exit. The redhead’s back is straight, shoulders squared. She smiles at her escort. She precedes him toward the front of the establishment. The man pauses at Tom and Sue’s table, a knowing grin on his face, saying, “The ambiance of this restaurant certainly is unique.” Tom and Sue cannot meet his eyes. The redhead smiles again.

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