Ladies Who Lunch
By Oleander Plume
The waiter stared in a condescending manner that made me bristle. Smug asshole. I resisted the urge to punch him in the face or tie him to a chair and shave off his pretentious pencil-thin mustache. The only thing stopping me was the delicious buzzing sensation that flooded my cunt.
“Should I repeat the specials?” he asked. “We have a nice crab bisque today, or…”
“I’ll have the, um…” I white knuckled the menu, barely able to speak, but played it cool to avoid hard consequences. “The Caesar, uh…” I bit my lip.
“The Caesar salad? Can I add grilled chicken to that for you?”
The vibration in my pussy grew stronger. I wanted to kick Jennifer under the table, but didn’t dare. Not that she would have stopped anyway, her finger seemed to be glued to the goddamn remote. The bitch wanted to force a screaming orgasm out of me right in the middle of lunch.
“Yes, um, chicken sounds, uhhhhh, great!” When the vibration stopped, I took a gulp of ice water. “And a glass of white wine, please.”
Jennifer narrowed her eyes as the waiter stomped off. “You did not handle that well.”
“Holy crap.” I dabbed my forehead with a napkin. “This new gadget is more powerful than the old one. Wow.”
“That doesn’t matter. You broke a rule.” She reached over and twisted one of my nipples.
“Someone will see us,” I hissed, eyes searching the room for potential witnesses.
Jennifer set her martini glass on the paper coaster, centering it perfectly like she always does when she’s pissed. Her OCD kicks into overdrive when she’s pissed.
“Forget I said that, it slipped out,” I said.
“Questioning me is grounds for punishment.”
Outwardly I sighed, but tingled with excitement on the inside. I leaned back and waited for her command. “Yes, madam.”
“Pinch both of your nipples. Now.”
Despite my earlier protests, the thrill of possible discovery made me squirm. My nipples turned into knots as I kneaded them between my fingers.
“Stop. Let’s see. Yes, they are hard.” Jennifer licked her lips. “Tell me about your pussy.”
“It’s drenched. Good thing I’m wearing this leather skirt, or I’d leave a puddle.”
I loathed that skirt. A size too small, the leather’s rough seams left red welts on my skin, but I dared not complain. The rules dictated that Jennifer had the privilege of choosing my outfit for the day.
“Is it still shaved?”
“Clean as a whistle.”
“Do you want me to lick it?”
I quivered at the thought of her hot tongue lapping at my dripping crevices. The vibration started again, courtesy of the silver egg entrenched in my cunt. Jennifer slid across the seat of the corner booth until her knee touched mine.
“That’s the lowest setting, how does it feel?”
“Nice, incredibly nice.” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the waiter returning with my drink. I hoped Jennifer wouldn’t notice, but she did, clicking the remote with great delight. My pussy clenched and my spine stiffened.
“Here you are, miss.”
The waiter moved in slow motion. The tickle in my clit warned of an epic orgasm heading my way, a climax that would make me whimper like a whipped dog. I cursed Jennifer under my breath and reached for the glass, trying to ignore the ecstasy taking place in my nether regions.
“Your salads will be ready shortly. Can I get…” The waiter grew somber. “Are you okay, miss?”
“Yes, fine.” I chugged the wine and handed him the empty glass. “More, please and, um, hurry.”
“Right away, miss.”
As soon as he stepped away from the table, the buzzing stopped. I wanted to scream and throw a gigantic hissy fit, but protesting went against the rules.
“That was pathetic. You deserve punishment.”
“Pull up your skirt as high as it will go. Do it now.”
My face burned as I tugged up the stiff leather, but when the cool air touched the skin between my legs, a thrill drenched my body. Public nudity, however discreet, always turned me on. Jennifer dug her fingers into my slit and gave my clit a quick rubdown.
“So wet.” She pulled her hand away and licked. “Sweet.”
Determined not to whine for more, I concentrated on the drink menu. “These chocolate martinis look good. I might try one.”
“Don’t get drunk, you’ll make a scene.”
“But, I-” A glare from Jennifer sealed my lips. “Sorry, madam.”
Jennifer sighed. After rummaging around in her purse, she pressed a stiff object into my hand. A black butt plug. “Since you won’t behave, go put this in. Hurry back.”
I shoved the thing in my purse and scuttled to the ladies room, clenching my pussy tight so the egg wouldn’t fall out and clatter on the marble tile. Locked inside a stall, I coated the plug with a layer of lube and worked it inside – one foot balanced on the toilet seat. My ass opened wide to accept the latex intrusion and then closed over the narrow base when I had it in position. As much as I adored having both orifices stuffed, I loathed having to crab walk back to the table.
“Is the plug in position?”
“All the way?”
“How do you feel now?”
And horny. Fuck. I wanted to yank up my skirt and dive across Jennifer’s lap. I wanted her to grip the base of the plug and pull it in and out while she turned the remote on high. I wanted her to alternate between fucking my ass and spanking it while the waiter stared. Most of all, I wanted to come, but she wasn’t ready to let me.
“Look, here’s the waiter.”
Jennifer used her sing song voice, the one I hate. The vibration started again, and I braced myself. I wondered if the waiter heard the damn thing humming inside me. I sure as hell did, the buzzing hammered my bones and slammed against my eardrums. My pussy clenched around the egg, and my ass clenched around the plug, the glorious pressure added to my need.
“Your Caesar miss. Would you like fresh ground pepper?”
Jennifer piped up. “Yes, we both would. Give us lots of pepper.”
He smiled as he held the large mill over my plate and rotated the end. I concentrated on his hands, watching black flecks magically appear on my salad, while Jennifer cranked up the egg’s speed. I felt like I was sitting on a paint mixer. My teeth rattled, and I worried my fillings would loosen.
“That’s good!” I said with too much enthusiasm. Luckily, they both thought I meant the seasoning and not the earthquake taking place between my legs. “Perfect. I just, um, love pepper.”
The waiter busied himself with Jennifer’s salad. I willed him to go faster, but he took his sweet damn time. I could have come at any second, but he kept grinding and grinding.
“That’s probably enough.” Jennifer smirked.
“Excellent. Can I get you ladies anything else?”
“No,” I said. “Nothing at all.”
Jennifer stared at me. “My friend might like a chocolate martini. Right, Kate?”
“Um, I’m not sure.”
Gripped at last in a dizzying orgasm, the words fell off my tongue in a garbled rush. I stared silently into Jennifer’s eyes while riding wave after wave of pleasure. I kept my expression blank, but she knew, that bitch, she knew.
“Bring her one, please, she deserves it,” Jennifer said as she winked at me.
I watched the waiter saunter off, my cunt still trembling as the vibrations stopped.
“Did your toes curl?”
“Yes, maybe my hair too. That was intense.”
“You did well.” She patted my hand. “After lunch, we should go shopping. For shoes.”
“Whatever you say, madam.”
I smiled at her, but plotted sweet revenge. Tomorrow, she would go back to being Jenny, my dutiful secretary. A list of demands grew in my mind as she pressed the remote again.
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