Drinks With Suzie

Suzie took a deep breath, opened the door, and stepped inside the dimly lit lounge. It was bitterly cold outside, and it took a moment before she shook off the chill and felt like unbuttoning the front of her overcoat to allow the warm air in. She stuffed her gloves in a pocket, and fumbled with the three buttons of her coat, lingering with the last one long enough to look up and see the reaction of at least three men at the bar. Their eyebrows went up as her coat parted, permitting the sight of Suzie’s short skirt, sexy bare legs, and high heels on such a blustery Wisconsin night. Truth be told, no other woman in the bar was wearing anything other than pants, and as Suzie walked her heels clicked on the floor; it drew more attention despite the loud music and the murmur of the bar patrons. Smiles spread across men’s faces, and Suzie couldn’t help but smile back while searching for me.
I’d been waiting for her for a few minutes, sitting in a booth near the back, nursing a key lime martini. She appeared from out of nowhere, wearing exactly what she told me she would: a tight fitting black top that accentuated her perky breasts and a short tan skirt that looked like it might be perfect for summer, but somewhat uncomfortable for winter. I rose to meet her, gave her a hug, and invited her to take a seat to my right.
“You look great,” I leaned in and told her. “Thanks, I was afraid I’d be late, but the traffic wasn’t too bad,” she replied. She told me how nice I looked in my Navy blazer, khakis pants, and lime green button down collar shirt.
The waiter offered her a drink, and she ordered a pomegranate martini. We talked, enjoyed our drinks, and watched the crowd. Another round of martinis. More talk. She looked anxious. As she looked up, I mustered up my courage. My right hand moved silently and unseen under the table. My open hand landed on her right thigh about the hemline. Her skin was silky smooth against my rougher, more masculine touch. She looked at me with the look of a startled doe in the forest, both nervous and anticipating all at the same time. She seemed to tremble for a second. Then her gaze focused on my eyes, and she put her forefinger to my lips, spread her winning smile, and said, “I’ll be right back.” She downed her drink, and disappeared. I ordered another round while she was gone.
“Much better,” she said, sliding in close to me. She fingered the rim of her empty martini glass while my right hand returned to its place on her thigh. I began rubbing a small circle, which prompted Suzie to inhale, expanding her ribcage and displaying her sexy form more splendidly. My hand slowly moved up, pushing the hem of her skirt higher. “You know, it’s a little cool in here,” she said as if speaking to no one, and pulling her overcoat into her lap.
Moments later the waiter delivered our third round of drinks and collected our empty glasses. I was fairly certain that he knew something was going on but didn’t care. As Suzie took the first sip from her very full martini, she slid down in the booth just in time for my forefinger to meet her nicely trimmed ******. She continued to sip her drink but glanced in my way as I slipped the tip of my digit inside her. Her lips parted like the pedals of a rose, and I encountered Suzie’s steamy hot, wet tunnel. She seemed to move ever so slightly. People were walking by our booth, but nobody seemed to notice that I was touching Suzie.
I continued to finger her tight wet ***** with my right hand, while balancing my drink in the other. “Suzie, you are so wet,” I whispered to her. She nodded. “I know. I can’t believe we’re doing this, but it feels so good. Keep going.” I worked my finger deeper inside her, and felt her hips moving ever so slowly. Both of us began to breathe more deeply, and the room warmed up as if it were on fire. She blinked her eyes and seemed to bite her lower lip, exhaling short fast breaths with an almost inaudible groan at regular intervals.
“You two doing all right,” the waiter said, popping around the edge of the booth for seconds before disappearing. “Oh yes,” I replied. “Just fine,” Suzie said, trying to maintain her composure. My finger fell out of her, but I quickly located her love tunnel, and slid not one, but two fingers in her. Suzie’s face held new look of shock, which turned to pleasure seconds later. I rubbed her with intensity unlike the first time I was inside her. She began to breath faster, gulped more of her drink, and grew wetter. She moved her hips, and seemed to lift up off the seat and slam back down over and over. She set her glass down and clutched the table. Her face turned to mine. We kissed. Our tongues mingling. I could feel her panting as we broke our kiss, and her hand stroked the back of my head. “Oh God,” she whispered in my ear, her face behind mine. Her ***** clutched my finger. “I’m *******.” I kept fingering her until I felt the hand on the back of my neck relax and saw the other hand that hand been clutching the table release. She slumped back, and my fingers popped out of her.
We smiled at each other. She caught her breath, and finished her drink in one swallow. I looked at my fingers, wet with her ***, and tasted each one. “Now there’s a martini flavor I wish they’d make,” I said.
Postscript: We decided to go back to my place to get more comfortable and have more fun. As we were putting on our coats, Suzie noticed that her panties that she’d taken off when she excused herself were clumsily stuffed in her purse and were still visible in the open satchel. We both figured the waiter had seen them when he delivered our last round of drinks and decided he’d give us some privacy. He seemed to confirm that when we passed him on the way out and he wished us a good night and gave us a big thumbs up, an appropriate salute for our secret finger **** in public.

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Jan 17, 2013