Dinner Plans

‘I’ll wear a butt plug to dinner if you do’

What a text for anyone to wake up to. Especially for me to wake up to: someone who has a buttplug spreadsheet and is a self-confessed anal devotee, especially from him who feels very much the same way.

I arrive at the restaurant and am greeted by a long flight of stairs to reach the lower floor. I check my phone to see if he has arrived and open his message.

‘Stairs are fun’

Indeed they are, I realise as I make my way to the bar to meet him.

His smile is coy, he’s a little nervous as it’s been a very long time since we last saw each other and longer still since we fucked. As we greet each other, and he envelopes me into his broad frame, the air between us crackles, and I’m reminded of our chemistry- unlike anything I’ve experienced before and the reason we are always drawn back to each other. His smell, his beard grazing the top of my head, his hands on my back- it all comes flooding back to me and I can tell by his smile that his head his filled with similar memories. His nerves disappear, and he is back to his usual self. His cocky, confident, assertive, fucking delicious self.

‘We are waiting on a table, we are number 1. The person ahead of us got 69- I’m devastated.’ We laugh and take a seat at the bar.

We talk, drink and laugh some more until we are finished our food. He tells me about his exciting life plans and I tell him about mine. He reinforces that I’m doing well and I’m great, I know that he knows exactly what to say but graciously accept his compliments.

‘So what do you want to do now?’ I ask, as he takes my foot, slips of my shoe and presses it against his cock under the table. I gently introduce pressure, as he slowly gets hard underneath it- inches away from our fellow diners on the communal table. I remember doing this exact thing in a taxi years before, as he wanked and came on my feet before sliding my shoe back on. A modern day Cinderella story.

‘Well’ he replies, slightly stunted by the under the table happenings. ‘We either have sex in this bathroom or go back to your hotel?’

I give the bathroom a curious glance.

‘How big is it?’ I ask, with a raised eyebrow.

It turns out he was joking about the bathroom, and we return to climb the stairs as he reaches up my skirt to cup my arse, easily in full view of the restaurant.

Luckily my hotel is a matter of doors away- which he knows but is still surprised at how quickly we arrive. As we get into the elevator I pull him into me, just before the doors close and we kiss. It’s fucking hot and our hands are everywhere and I gently claw at his back under his shirt, and he pulls my hair. But the seconds of electricity soon dissipate as we arrive to my floor and make our way to my room.

There are no words, and he pushes me over my bed and pulls my skirt to my ankles. My underwear is peeled to the top of my thighs and he pulls my arse cheeks apart to inspect me, grabbing handfuls of me as he exposes the base of the glass plug I’m wearing. In silence he unzips his trousers and starts to wank as he inspects, and not before long I’m on my knees in front of him which his hand firmly on the back of my head.

The first time we fuck it is urgent. I suck him until he can’t hold back any more and he pushes me onto the bed being his weight upon me as he fucks me. I can’t move. I don’t want to be able to move. Afterwards we remove our plugs and laugh at the fact we’ve both chosen the same make and model to wear.

The second time it is slower. After I lie beside him and run my hand along his arm, gently kissing where it meets his shoulder, he rolls me onto my back and bites my shoulder as my legs wrap around him. I inhale his scent and can taste the salt of his sweat.

The third time doesn’t involve any penetration (of me) at all. I start to go down on him, really slowly. As he lies there exhausted I lick his cock from the base to the tip with the flat of my tongue over and over and over again. I take my time and wait until he starts bucking towards me and guiding his cock into my open mouth. I give it to him, for a bit, and then I give him something else which I know he’s been craving for a long time. I delicately kiss his balls and continue to kiss past them as his breathing becomes more erratic. I guide his hand to his cock, and instruct him to pleasure himself, as I stop kissing for a moment and look up at him from between his legs.

‘Shall I continue?’

‘Yes’ he replies, but his tone is meeker than his confident propositioning of earlier. I’ve heard that tone from him once before, the first time I fucked him with a strap on.

So continue I do. My tongue responds to his moans and occasional requests, perhaps more accurately even begs, to penetrate him with it. As he gets closer and closer, he makes noises I’ve never heard him make before. I know he’s going to come soon and although I could quite happily carry on, I realise it’s been far too long since I’ve tasted his come. And it’s not long before I do, and he makes those delicious, loud groans as he does.

We cuddle for a few minutes, I run him a bath and tell him he’s free to go or stay as he pleases. I tuck myself into bed, knowing he won’t be there in the morning and wake up with the smell of him on my pillows.

Until next time.

Written as part of Smutathon 2018– a fundraiser for Abortion Support Network. Donate below, enter the raffle and follow the conversation on Twitter under the hashtags #Smutathon2018 and #SmutForChoice.

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