I suppose she had already noticed the waiter was approaching our table to collect the plates and had struck her pose in preparation.All the while he was clearing the table, Julie stayed with her legs apart, staring wordlessly at me and the moment he turned and started to walk away she said, “I’m not wearing any underwear you know.”My God, I can still clearly remember the instant sensation in my cock. It didn’t suddenly get hard, no. It was more an intense tingling, like a fiendishly aggressive call girl had run her teeth and tongue along the length of it from tip to balls – and then some.But it wasn’t the fact that my wife had said she wasn’t wearing underwear – well, not entirely anyway. It was the fact that the waiter almost definitely heard her.“And what if he did?” Julie challenged, with a smirk on her face. And it wasn’t just a simple, rhetorical question either. I knew … we both knew, she was seriously questioning where things would lead if it happened that the waiter should. I blushed instantly.“Awh, is my little slave boy getting impatient?” Mistress asked me. She stood behind my head.I tilted my head back to see her. I bit my lip at her mocking tone. Somehow, I got even harder.“How’s about a little show?” she teased with a smile.“Yes, please.”“So polite,” she praised, “Good boy.”I was embarrassed by how good her praise felt. I think she could tell.“Do you like being my good boy?” she tugged on my hair with a balled up fist.“Yes!”“Yes, what?”“Yes, Mistress!” I corrected myself.My mistress undid her trench coat. It fell to the floor in a heap around her ankles. Her naked body was so beautiful. I licked my lips.She slid two of her fingers into her pussy. She fingered herself for a few seconds, then withdrew her hand. A thick slime coated both fingers.“Open,” she ordered. She put her fingers to my lips.I opened my mouth like she said, letting her fingers onto my tongue. I sucked and licked her fluids off. A greed settled inside me that I didn’t understand..
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