Dinner For Two

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One on one M/F sex in public.
2.3k words
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Tonight would be the last night. My heart stuttered a bit within its walls, some blend of trepidation, sorrow and relief. As much as I would miss him, miss the laughter, the jokes, I would not miss this ridiculous tension that unfulfilled desire was causing. It was wreaking havoc with my body, no matter how many times a day I masturbated.

Damn man. It was like I could feel it the moment he even entered a room. His energy seemed to call to mine on some visceral level. Toss in the fact that we got along well, had the same sense of humor, and had been through a multitude of sex scenes together and I was off the charts, crazy, totally turned on. All. The. Damn. Time.

But tonight would be the end of it. Sure, I would miss the flirtatious banter, the off color jokes, the teasing compliments about my ass whenever we had to 'get naked' together. However, I would not miss having to fight down my desire to simply tackle him to the ground and straddle him. So, a couple more hours and we would be done.

I felt his hand against my back, creating that slow burn between my thighs as we made our way around the room, greeting everyone, trading handshakes, listening to compliments about our 'stage presence' and 'on screen chemistry'. Ha! If only these people knew the truth. Even now I could feel moisture pooling against my panties.

He shifted, pulling me a little closer until I could feel the heat of him full length down the side of my body. As soon as possible, I stepped away, moving on to speak to someone else and create a little distance while I was at it.

Slowly people began to melt away, leaving only the cast and crew our little movie had needed as we headed into the room where the small, private dinner party would be held. Of course we were seated together at a private table in the center of the room.

Terrific. This was exactly what I didn't need. More time spent close to him.

'Just one more night... a few more hours', I reminded myself, sucking in a deep breath and sitting gingerly. The pressure of the chair against my engorged flesh actually felt good. A little too good. Soon, it was all I could do not to squirm in my seat.

I forced down a few bites, the shrimp scampi and filet mignon tasting a bit like sawdust as I fought to ignore the heat of his leg against mine. I began to hate the dress I had loved only a few hours ago. My black, floor length, fitted sheath dress had a split almost to my hip on one side. Sexy, yes, but also necessary if one wished to walk. Now, it left my leg bare, his thigh pressing up against mine under the table. Was it my imagination or was he sitting far closer than was actually necessary?

As they cleared the tables, serving a rich chocolate dessert, I made the mistake of looking over at him. His dark hair was spiky and tousled on his head, and when I reached his deep green eyes, his gaze locked onto mine. I felt the breath leave my lungs in a rush. He smirked a little, the damnable dimple popping up in his cheek.

At once, the remembered feel of his body pressed against mine, all but naked as we 'made love' for the camera, his lips warm and firm as we kissed, sent a spiral of longing through my already dangerously aroused senses.

I wanted him to kiss me. Right here, right now. Not for the camera's but simply because he wanted me even half as much as I wanted him.

The smirk disappeared, heat blazed through his eyes before he turned his head away, muttering a curse word beneath his breath.

I could breathe again.

I took a bite of the dessert, sipped my wine and went back to ignoring his heat. It was an impossible situation. I knew he felt the tension too, at least to some extent. But, it could never be for us. Not in this lifetime.

As dinner turned to dancing, wine turned to frivolity, some of the tension started to ease. I was able to relax, to enjoy myself, as I danced and flirted with some of the other actors, the smaller roles in the film.

When I felt my head starting to spin, I headed back to my table to have a glass of water and rest for a moment. I knew he was there before I actually felt his touch. My hair, swept up into some fancy twist I'd had done, left my neck and back exposed. His fingers trailed down my spine, brushing through the wisps of hair on my neck as he sat down next to me. I bit my cheek to stop the little shiver.

His hand settled on my thigh as he leaned into my ear, whispering, "You look stunning tonight. I haven't been able to keep my eyes off of you."

One little sentence, whispered in his deep rumble and I was awash in desire. I hated him a little bit right then. I hated that he could do this to me. "You don't get to say things like that."

"I know," he said, "But I can't seem to stop myself."

His hand started to trail up my thigh, the butterfly touch of his fingers sending little pulses of pleasure straight to my core. Once again I felt my love-hate relationship with this gown. The damn slit gave him unhindered access not only to my leg, but to the wet folds hidden only by a thin shield of lace.

His hand continued its upward motion, sliding under the dress and between my thighs. Even as I told myself I should clamp them tight, refuse him access, my legs parted of their own volition. His fingers brushed by my engorged folds, one light, quick, glancing touch. I whimpered.

I heard him hiss, a tiny groan escaping with the air. "You're already so fucking wet," he whispered against my ear.

I could only nod my head and bite my lip to hold back the moan. Despite my efforts, I felt a the little shiver of pleasure run through me leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. When his teeth nipped at my neck, one hard little bite into the muscle that ran across my shoulders, my nipples tightened, aching to join the game.

I hated him again. Not only that he had this kind of power over me, but I hated myself for responding this way, yet I couldn't seem to stop it and he knew it.

When his fingers dipped once more, this time sliding my lace panties out of the way, I simply parted my legs, giving in to the pleasure. Crazy, wrong, foolish... it didn't matter. I wanted this.

His fingers separated my folds, sliding over my clit, bringing another rush of wetness to my pussy, easing his way as he finally dipped his finger into my opening. I was already so aroused, the entire night, hell the entire year, having been one, long tease for my senses. Even that little pressure, that one seeking finger, was enough to put me on the edge of release. It wouldn't take much to push me over the edge.

My internal muscles clenched, tightening around his hand, causing him to mutter, "Fuck," under his breath. I glanced around quickly, pleased to notice that the room had mostly cleared, less than twenty people remained and they were all highly inebriated. No one was paying us any attention whatsoever.

Thank God.

I let my head roll back, my eyes closed as I gave myself over to the pleasure.

The next little dip, he used two fingers, sliding them deeper, curling them up so he hit that sensitive bundle of nerves inside me. I gasped, thrusting my hips toward his hand. My body knew what it wanted, what I needed. I wanted to fuck him. Right here, right now.

His fingers kept pulling back, thrusting in, curling up, the pressure expanding, blossoming low in my abdomen, before it worked its way out. My nipples got impossibly harder, pressing into the silken fabric as if trying to rip through, seeking the heat of his mouth.

As the first waves of orgasm broke over me, I grabbed his head and pulled him to me, kissing him with all the strength, all the feeling I had been holding in for so fucking long. His mouth absorbed my cry, his tongue meeting mine as he groaned into me.

When I pulled back, gasping for air, I heard him mumble, "Fuck it," as he lifted and yanked, manhandling me, twisting my body until I was sitting on the table in front of him.

Before I could even ask what he intended to do, he pushed my legs wide, settling my spiked heels into his thighs. A rough yank and my lace panties were no more, the wispy fabric falling to the floor.

"Wait, no... People are he..." His mouth settled against my pussy, the sensation sending all coherent thought right out of my head. No barrier, no restrictions, no cameras. What did I care about these people watching. Most of them had been on the set when we had done our sex scenes anyway. Now, at least, I was going to get some pleasure out of it.

His tongue slipped between my folds, teasing my clit again, before finally plunging inside. Oh fuck! It felt so good, I couldn't help but throw my head back and whimper a little. My hands gave out, and I settled back onto my elbows while he continued to tease and torment me with his mouth. Finally, when I felt the first stirrings of release, I grabbed his head, grinding my pussy into his face, as I fucked up into him, setting the rhythm I needed.

The orgasm ripped through me, more intense than the first, and I couldn't contain the sound any longer. A long deep moan burst forth, echoing off the now almost silent room.

The silence registered in my subconscious, and as soon as my brain could process the information, I forced my eyes open. A quick look around confirmed mostly everyone had left. However, the few people that remained had actually moved in closer.

To watch.

I waited for the rush of humiliation.

Instead, I felt another little burst of wetness rush out of my very exposed pussy. The tingle of arousal, rather than dying out, flared to life again. I looked up and met his eyes. The green depths were almost black with desire.

He was waiting on me. My choice. My decision. Finally, I had some power in this 'relationship'.

I gave one sharp nod of my head.

"Thank fucking God," he said as he yanked at the button on his slacks, pushing them backward he freed his erection.

I had seen it before, but knowing it was about to be buried inside me in truth, not just fiction, made it a whole different prospect. He was huge. And so ready the head was already a dark purple.

I groaned and grabbed at his shirt, pulling him to me for a long deep kiss as he yanked my hips toward him. I could taste myself on his face and I was surprised to find it pleasant, arousing even. The head of his cock brushed through my folds, the wetness from his mouth and two orgasms making him slip and slide against me. As good as it felt, that wasn't what I needed.

He knew.

His hands gripped tighter, hard enough to leave marks I was sure I would see tomorrow. I heard people gasp around us. Whether it was the sound itself or simply the reminder that we had an audience, I couldn't say, but something sent another little pulse of arousal through me. I needed him... Now!

Finally, I felt the head pushing into me, stretching the tight ring of muscle at my entrance, before his cock slipped past the opening and the delicious pressure began to fill me. I was so tight, it had been so damn long since I had been with anyone, and never anyone as big as he was, I could feel every inch, every centimeter as he pushed harder, sliding into me slowly.

Inch by inch, push by push, finally he pulled back and simply drove into my pussy in one hard thrust.

A groan tore from his throat when he was buried to the hilt, a matching sound echoing from somewhere behind me. He pulled out and thrust again, and I no longer cared where the noise came from.

Something seemed to snap inside him, the controlled passion, the gentle lips, were suddenly gone as he fucked me, hard and fast, pulling me to him as he rammed his hips forward.

I loved it. I fucking loved it!

He drove us both up, hard and fast, the tension coiling inside my belly tighter and tighter, almost to the point of pain. I knew he couldn't hold on much longer, his body strung so taut his back felt like granite where I gripped it.

I felt his release begin, his teeth sinking into the neck muscle one more time, hard and deep, the first jets of his come bathing my insides with heat. The combination released an orgasm unlike anything I've ever felt, every muscle in my body tensing and releasing. I threw my head back, the sound of my keening cry ricocheted off the walls as my nails tried to tear through the fabric of his dress shirt.

By the time I could force my eyes open again, he was buttoned, my dress pulled back into place to cover everything important. I looked into those green eyes, his dark hair totally destroyed by my hands grabbing onto him. He helped me up, gently, setting me on his lap rather than my own chair.

I felt his lips against my ear again... "Once will never be enough."

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