Follow her out.*

Oh fuck. This is too much. You waddle out of the bathroom seconds away from an orgasm, with that pair of panties rubbing between your legs. No no no. This is too much. About halfway back to the table, you freeze in place--knees buckling. Alison turns back to you and sticks her tongue out between her teeth. She knows exactly why you stopped. If you continue on, you'll cum for sure, and in front of all of these people eating their meals.

"Are you coming?" she asks with a wink.

You mutter out that you can't keep going. You plead for help.

Slowly, she wants up to you. Her body so close to yours isn't helping how humiliating your situation is. She leans in close, and whispers. "You did do a good job with me, so I suppose I owe you some help. Here. I'll pull down your panties, just a tiny bit. Just enough so you can wiggle over to the table and sit down again. I'll make sure nobody sees, or suspects anything."

The breath on your ear makes you shiver, but you agree. You feel her fingers move up your thighs, and slowly pull down your undergarments. The fact that this is happening directly in the middle of a public eatery drives you mad. Your face burns red. She keeps her word however, and only pulls them down enough to no longer be rubbing deep. She sticks close, and leads you back to your table, and you sit down with a sigh of relief, but still incredibly discomfort. Of course, she sits back down next to you.

"Are you guys okay? You looked like you were having some trouble," asks Roger.

"We're fine," replies Alison. "Don't worry. I'm taking good care of Jane."