Head back to the table.

You slip back into your seat at the table first, your body still humming from the encounter in the bathroom. Steven is in your seat next to your wife, showing her some photos on his phone. Your meals have already been cleared from the table, and you take a seat in his chair, reaching over for your glass of wine. A few minutes later, Gemma emerges and glides back to the table, her dress swaying. She slides into her seat beside you, her arm brushing against yours as she reaches for her glass.

“Everything okay?” Rebecca asks, her voice light, but her eyes are sharp, assessing.

Gemma nods, taking a sip of her drink, her fingers trembling just slightly. You order your desserts and continue chatting. Gemma's knee bumps against yours under the table, and your hand finds hers, guiding her palm to your thigh. She tenses, her eyes widening as she feels the hard outline of your cock through your pants. Her fingers work at your belt, then your zipper, the sound of the metal teeth parting lost beneath Steven’s voice as he launches into another story.

Gemma swallows hard, then slips her hand inside your pants, her fingers wrapping around your cock. She hesitates for just a second, her eyes darting to Rebecca, who’s eyeing her curiously, but you don't let her stop, pressing her palm harder against you, your hips subtly thrusting up into her grip. Her grip tightens, and her strokes grow more confident, her thumb swiping over the tip of your cock, spreading the pre-cum that’s already leaking all down your shaft. You can feel her shaking nervously beside you as she works you under the table.

The desserts arrive, and Steven begins another story. You grip Gemma's wrist, your fingers digging into her skin as you guide her strokes, your hips bucking up into her palm. With a muffled groan, you explode in her hand, your load pulsing hot and thick all over her fingers and palm. You don't let her stop stroking you until she's milked out every last drop, and when it’s over, you let go of her wrist, your body sagging back into your chair. Gemmaslowly pulls her hand from your pants, her fingers glistening with your cum. She doesn’t have a napkin, doesn’t have a way to clean up - not without drawing attention. So she does the only thing she can. She brings her fingers to her mouth, her tongue darting out to lick them clean.

"Gemma, remember your manners," says Steven, his eyebrows shooting up.

Gemma freezes, her fingers still in her mouth, her eyes wide and cheeks blushing. But she recovers quickly, pulling her hand away with a soft pop and forcing a laugh.

“Oh my god, the dessert's just... too good...” she lies, licking the last of your glaze off her bottom lip.

Rebecca reaches for her wine, her eyes flicking between you and Gemma. “You two are both acting weird tonight,” she muses, her voice teasing, but there’s a hint of suspicion in her tone.