Monday, June 25, 2007

Dinner

I can't remember all the names. There are too many faces, too many expectations standing around waiting for something to happen. All dressed up in their need to impress suits, all hoping to stand out in the crowd. They don't know they are all but the backdrop for you.

Your hand on my back, steering me through the crowd, a nod here...a smile there. Your hand moves lower just to remind me of the promises you made before we arrived. Head bent you whisper in my ear...

"Are you still wet?"

"Mmm mmm", I reply under my breath, trying to control the flush as I respond to the greeting of yet another face requiring my attention.

Dinner is starting. I search your face, hoping for the sign that we can skip out early. Your evil little grin tells me you know what I'm thinking, but that I will be denied.

We sit. My thigh against your thigh. My hip against your hip. My foot winds around your leg with a mind of its own. This close to your body I have no control. My hand on your thigh, reaching between your legs during the dinner conversation. You take my hand to stop me from reaching where I want to go. Under my breath I sigh in frustration.

The speaker has started. People clap. The annoyance of leaving your hand long enough to put mine together frustrates me. Your eyes twinkle. Teasing. Between awards your hand has found my knee. Moving up, slowly, to the top of my stockings. The sensitive area exposed above my stockings. Bared as you requested.

Finally the bobbles have been passed out. The dessert has been cleared away. We just sit. Your arm thrown lazily around the back of my chair. Seemingly deep in conversation with the people at the table, our legs intertwine underneath. Unseen. Unknown.

As the conversation shifts away from us I lean up to whisper in your ear "please can we go home now? I want you."

"Hmmm-mmm".

Finally.