A date with Evelyn: the Dinner

It all goes wonderful, just like Lily told you. Evelyn takes you to this very expensive restaurant. You feel so intimidated by it that you freeze at the entrance unable to get your own legs to move you a single step forward. But she understands, she takes your hand and talk to you. "Don't be shy, Mark. Tonight you are my man and no one tells my man when he is allowed or not. Sll those haughty bitches, they can go to hell."

You feel everyone's eyes on you. Older and younger women look at you with desire, some even blink at you or send you a stealthy kiss. Older and younger men look at you with scorn, one seems about to split at you. You almost can't handle it. But she is by your side, she takes you by the hand. She orders the food and the wine, as you can't even speak.

"I've never been in public with a man so striking. You really catch the eyes of everyone."

"They must think that I am a prostitute. I don't belong here."

"Mark, look at me." You do as she says. "This place has my favourite pasta in the whole city. I want you to taste it, I think you deserve to taste it. Yes, deserve. Times are changing, soon men won't be told what to do or not just because they are men. You don't look like a prostitute, you look like a fairy tale prince, like the man you kiss at the end of a Hollywood movie. You are that handsome."

"Am I?" You ask.

"Mark... I am a professional, I'm used to see half naked and fully naked patients all the time and act all calm and collected... I can't barely control myself around you. I have thoughts about kissing you, in front of all these vultures, to make them fly away."

"I... Thank you." You manage to say. You then remember Lily's teachings and bring a hand to your chest and undo the first two buttons of your dress. Her eyes go really wide, she is unable to look away or breathe as you follow your sister instruction. The collected image of doctor Evelyn fades really quickly. But then, they bring the food she ordered to your table and she behaves. Sort of. "Hope you like it. It is really good."

You both are nervous, you no longer think about the gaze of others, only hers. It doesn't take too long for the next step in Lily's instructions to become real. She gets closer to you, her hips in touch with yours, and so you do what you were told and brush a bit against her to show your approval. Just like with Lily, you hear a faint moan, but this time it is accompanied by the sound of her fork falling into the plate. "Sorry." She says looking at you.

You both keep eating in silence. As talkative and knowledgeable as she was before, now she seems out of words. She eventually has to look, she inclines her head ever so slightly and looks at your bulge. And as instructed, you move your legs apart to indicate that you like that look.

"God I should have sat at your right." She says.

"Why so?"

"I suck at eating with my left." She moves her fork to said hand, while her right descends subtlety under the table. First she moves it over her tight, then slowly, like the legs of a spider, her fingers move over your own tight. She then goes down your own legs, finger by finger, until she finds the end of your skirt, which she slowly begins to lift, exposing your private parts. You both try to keep eating as if nothing is happening under the table, but something is indeed happening. She touches your bulgie, she covers it with her hand and feels it's size and proportions. To your surprise, she is the one to gasp. Her hand lingers there, trying to cover it all.

"I want you Mark." She says with but a whisper, "I really, really want you. Would you forget my possessiveness?"

"I do."

"I hadn't planned this to go so fast, I didn't expect you to be this... Assertive. I suck at improvising, I had all these dinner topics to try to impress you, but know you have left me with nothing."

"I am impressed." You say.

"I am too..." Her hand holds your cock just a bit stronger, just in case you didn't know what she meant. You moan this time. The table to your right hears you, the man stares at you all scandalised and offended, mouth and eyes opened, the lady just smiles as if she would be next in line. She appreciates the show.

"I'll need you to eat a bit quicker, my dear." Says Evelyn "It might be your free day but you cannot arrive too late at the Barton's."

You have never eat this fast. It's improper for a well mannered boy, but proper manners are not your priorities. A conservative doubt arrives at your mind as you walk to her expensive car. Will she think that you are an easy boy for going this quick? Will she get bored of you? Once you are inside, you both sit at the passenger seats and she taps the window that communicates with the driver's seat. "To the Barton household. Do a little detour: 30 minutes."

You expect her to be more refine, more sophisticated, but all women in the end are women, they all want the same thing. She jumps on you, devouring you with kisses, you feel the weight of her motherly tights, the invasiveness of her tongue. "Mark" she says. "What did you do to me?" You both have trouble breathing or keeping a sane train of thought. Her big and beautiful green eyes stare at you, her collected hair cut has gone wild, as the rest of her. All illusions of refinement broken. You stare her back and that earns you another kiss, deep and inevitable.

You feel her hands over your bulgie again. They tremble as she tries to undo it. "Your male lingerie, always so complicated." She laughs shyly. You try to tell her that it is not that complicated, just that women are not used to it, but you can barely talk. She succeeds finally and gasp once again when she uncovers her prize.

"Oh my god." She brings her hands to her mouth, and not just because of your size.

That's right, you are wearing the laze over your cock, remember?, the one that Lily also brought for you. Unbeknownst to you, they were colour coded, a code that is only known in really kinky and elitist circles of high society, and you chose a colour, a colour that will indicate to any maiden that knows that you partake from a certain... Disposition.