A Dream Dinner Date (MF/MDom/Cons/Oral)

The intensity of the dream stirred me, a faint sigh escaping me in my half wakeful state, before the dream called me onwards once more, and sleep reclaimed me….
….I was in a small, softly lit restaurant, the table before me covered in a snow white tablecloth which tumbled to the floor, caressing my silk stocking-covered knees as it passed. Upon it lay highly polished silverware, glinting in the flickering light of the twin crimson coloured candles set in the centre of the table, between me and the man I was dining with. I studied the table setting intently, not wanting to raise my eyes and meet those of my companion, shy and demure in his presence. However, I could feel his gaze roving over what parts of my body were not hidden by the table, marked by a heat on my skin, almost as if he had touched me. I knew he was taking in the black, steelboned clincher that circled my waist, stopping short of the swell of my breasts and skimming above my hips, which was delicately embroidered in cream and the palest rose pink with flowers and vines. I could sense him glancing over the fitted cream silk shirt that was crushed to my skin underneath, his eyes lingering over the lightly tanned swell of my breasts, exposed by a loosened button, before travelling up to my throat. I knew that what he would see there would be what pleased him most, regardless of the care I had taken with my appearance for him that night. Mostly hidden by my ash blonde waves of hair, was a thick collar, closed snugly around the soft flesh of my throat, the silver buckle gleaming against the white and deep grape purple of the leather it was made from, with a loop centred on it, left empty for a leash. It seemed incongruous with the rest of my attire, but I couldn’t remove it. It showed what I was to him. I quickly glanced up at him under my lashes, and he caught the gesture and nodded his appreciation of what I was wearing.
He then ordered for both of us and, having gained his approval for now, I raised my eyes, turned a shade of violet by the light, to meet his. We talked quietly, my confidence increasing as our conversation ebbed and flowed, knowing that he was satisfied thus far. When our food arrived, I ensured my manners were impeccable, my duty to be pleasing to him guaranteeing that he could find nothing by which to fault me. Upon finishing our main course, he fixed me with an intense gaze that warned me no disobedience would be brooked, and enquired as to what I would like for dessert. Being used to referring all my decisions to him, I remained silent and dropped my gaze, as he knew I would, prompting him to answer for me.
“I have an idea for your dessert. Would you like to know what it is?”
My lips began to part on speech but, without waiting for my answer, he immediately carried on,
“Get on your knees, and under the table. Now”
His voice was soft, yet strong and deliberate, and I knew that within seconds I would be obeying him. My pulse fluttered and raced at the thought of what I knew he had for me, my reward for behaving. I could feel the gentle heat that had persisted between my legs for the duration of the meal intensify, and bring with it a wetness that caused my labia to easily slide together as I shifted to do as he said. The knee-length skirt that I was wearing, however, was extremely tight and restrictive, clinging to my rounded buttocks and the curve of my hips, keeping my legs closed together, making me take a little longer to comply than he was accustomed to. This elicited a low growl from him which forced me to abandon grace, and sink to the floor on both knees with as much speed as I could, worried about being denied my dessert. Oblivious to anyone else in the restaurant, I swiftly ducked under the tablecloth, keeping my head low, my tall body neatly folded so as not to hit the table above me, and was greeted by the sight of him undoing his trousers and freeing his thick cock in the dim half light that filtered through the white fabric. I inched forwards on my knees, exquisitely bound by the skirt that he had ordered me to wear, raised my head slightly, and placed my hands on the tops of his thighs, waiting for him to signal me to begin. I kept my eyes fixed on his exposed cock, silently wishing that he would let me start, deliberately directing my warm breath over the tip of it, hoping that the sensation would prompt him. His cock stiffened, intensifying my longing to slide my soft lips over it, but still no command came. All I had managed to do was sweetly torture myself, and even without being able to see me kneeling at his feet, he knew it. His hands remained still, folded over his stomach.
Finally, after what seemed an eternity, during which I became aware of the discomfort starting to assert itself from being kept bent and kneeling, I felt his big hands weave through my hair, until his fingers met at the back of my head. Once there he applied a gentle but firm pressure, which I knew meant, “Begin.” At that, I dropped my head so that my full lips came into contact with the tip of his cock, and slipped my tongue to the smooth skin that was brushing against my mouth. I flicked my tongue slowly over the now swollen head then ventured to the sensitive ridge on the underside of his cock, where the head met the shaft. Keeping my tongue firm, I moved the tip of it from side to side over that rise, before parting my lips further and lowering my head, so that his hard shaft slid over my tongue until I could take him no further. Above me I heard him stifle a soft moan, and I could picture him, head tilted back, eyes heavy lidded, as I had seen so many times before. The image made me pause for a second, until he recalled me by winding a hank of my hair around his hand, and pulling firmly. At that, I tightened my lips around the base of his cock, and started to suck on him, gently at first, then with increasing intensity, my tongue dancing along the underside of his shaft at the same time. The head of his cock was pressed firmly to the back of my throat, and I had to draw my lips upwards for respite, leaving a glistening trail of my saliva behind. It didn’t last long, for almost instantly his hands pushed me back down, and my mouth was as full as it was before. I loved the taste and feeling of him, the raised lines of his veins under my flickering tongue, the gentle throb against the delicate skin of my lips, and I could feel my nipples stiffening, my pussy getting wetter still beneath my tight skirt. I shifted and tried to raise my skirt to touch myself, wanting to ease the ache, but quickly found that in the confined space beneath the table, I couldn’t. Realisation about his insistence on my wearing it dawned on me- this was for his pleasure only, not mine. I regretfully turned my mind from my swollen clit and the lips which would by now be a deep crimson colour, and concentrated on his cock, which I still held in my mouth. I started to move my head up and down in earnest now, dragging my lips up and down the full length of him, while gently rolling his balls in one hand, eliciting another moan. The throbbing of his cock became stronger, causing me to move faster and suck harder, adding my free hand to his cock, below my lips. I worked my mouth and hand over his shaft, making sure my palm was coated with my saliva from his cock, before beginning to twist it gently around the base as I continued to push my lips up and down. His breathing above me was getting heavier, encouraging me to tighten my hand and lips in an effort to make him cum. It worked. Minutes later, he groaned and I felt his cock swell, his cum hitting the back of my throat, one, two….three times. Greedily I swallowed, holding still so as not to let any escape, loving the taste of his cum. Finally I freed him from my mouth, and ran my tongue from base to tip, lapping up any cum I had left behind. I felt his hands loosen from the back of my head, and his fingers untangle themselves from my silky hair- my cue to get up from under the table.
Twenty minutes later, having found our way out of the restaurant, away from the bemused stares of other diners, who had wondered about our behaviour, we stood next to his car. Turning to me with a smile, he spoke a sentence,
“I hope you enjoyed your dessert, now take that skirt off”
Ignoring the few people in the car park, I obeyed him, as I always would, peeling it off my skin, exposing my stockings and smooth pussy to his gaze. I knew he would immediately notice the glisten of my juices on my inner thighs as I parted my legs and flexed them, relieved to be free of the tight fabric. He held the car door open for me, and watched my slippery wet pussy opening as I stretched one leg into the car, before ducking down and pulling in the other. I was certain, as he closed the door, that I was going to enjoy the ride home….
….I woke then, in a tangle of sheets, my skin lightly goosefleshed, my nipples browny-pink and stiff. I knew, without even reaching down, that I would be as wet as I was in my dream…


  • Incredible.  You really have something to your very vivid writing style.  Don't know what else you could have added to make it more powerful.  Keep writing, seriously -  amazing talented woman.
  • Scarlet . . You truly have a talent .. you made me feel like I was the one at the table with you or surley you damn sure made me wish I was.. keep the stories coming please .. and if you can come visit us in the chat .. I would love to get to know you better .. maybe ask you out for a little dinner and dessert .. 
  • Amazingly well written story,indeed it had me hooked on the first few words,i read it with a smlie of appreciation for your talents. Iconsider myself a lucky man to know you. Do please keep writing.
  • Dee ..you dawg .. you better hope daw doesn't see this post and find out you are messing around with scarlet too ..
  • Gatorrrr like your one to talk you saucy get
  • Scarlet, the visions that your story spawned in my imagination moved me in a special way and I humbly thank you, from the very bottom of my being, I thank you. Please post more!
  • edited July 2008
    Emp my friend .. you are so damn horny that if all scarlet wrote is she dropped a napkin at dinner and bent over to pick it up you would get hard.   But knowing scarlet .. just picturing that myself kinda moves me . hellj, ust me typing it has me .. sorry .. can't finish .. i have to go take care of something that just popped up.
  • I do believe that all four of you read that with your trousers about your ankles. giggles.
    Luvie your imagery and use of flow is very well here. Were you at  my dinner date? Just a jokes luvie. I loved the story and with the granted permissions am passing on to higher powers than I for this venue of pros.
    your keen in my book luv.
  • thankyou very much lusty for passing it on...thankyou to all of you for your kind comments...always nice when it's your first story!...and gator, you are one randy get...put it away
    more stories to follow....have caught the writing bug now...
  • scarlet, take care my dawlin.  You write pretty good for a hillbilly  hehehehe ..and on your return I expect more stories to knock my socks off .. and trousers too.
  • Scarlett, I must say this was exciting to read.  All this talk about resturants and sex well lets just say im not very hungry for food!  Im glad we have people braving the spotlight to post their stories,  Even tho we arent formal publishers here its still difficult for writers to put up THEIR desires and thoughts for review.  Thanks to all the GENUINE contributors. I now have little reason to leave my fantasti.cc family with all the great writing to read, the people to talk to and the vids 
    Your chief,editor and bottlewasher, Stefanwolf
  • A very vivid story Daw... I mean Scarlett!..  This is not a story I should be reading at my desk.   The fact that you were under the table and restricted so you couldn't touch yourself was very very good for the imagination.  It's interesting that you place yourself in a submissive role in the story.  is this part of your fantasy? I'll be sure to enjoy again and hope there is more.   Irish
  • You and I need to talk, Scar.....There's this really nice resturant I know, plenty of room under the tables! LOL :) Keep writing, you have talent...... x
  • Thanks Scarlet - a very arousing little story, perfectly written, and if that is what BDSM is all about, I think you have created another convert!
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