After Dinner Sweet

‘As soon as possible,’ said Redmond. ‘We’ve booked your passage on the ‘Voltsvaghn’ tomorrow morning.’

‘You’ve booked me on the boat already?’ said Riolta, ‘how did you know I’d accept? Wasn’t that a little presumptuous?’

‘We’ve booked a suite of rooms on the ship, Miss Snow. You won’t be going alone. There are two other skilled negotiators who will be accompanying you.’

‘By that I hope you mean that they are “negotiators” in the same sense you’re using to refer to me,’ said Riolta, a surge of erotic interest suddenly inflecting her voice.

‘I can assure you, Miss Snow, they are eminently capable in their abilities. We’ve put a lot of thought together in assembling this little team, and considered very carefully how all your different skills and attributes all complement each other.’

‘Sounds as though this could be pleasurable,’

‘Miss Snow, if it’s to be half as pleasurable for you as spending the last quarter of an hour conversing across this table has been for me, then you are sure to be carried on transports of ecstasy.’

‘You’re too kind,’

‘I’m serious, Miss Snow. Do believe me. It’s entirely possible that I might not make it through to the dessert course without losing quite a hefty load in my trousers just from merely looking at you. And that makes me certain that you’re the right person for the job.’

Riolta smiled to herself at Redmond’s complement. ‘What a shame we didn’t dine in the public room,’ she said, ‘or I’d be interested in rising to that challenge and seeing if I could make that embarrassment more public.’

‘I hope you won’t allow our rather more secluded confines to dissuade you from that. Although I understand you’re quite the exhibitionist, Miss Snow.’

‘Oh, you have no idea. Am I to understand, then, that you’re hard? Let me feel…’

Riolta slipped her foot out of her shoe and slid it underneath the table, planting it firmly against the very sizeable bulge that she discovered in Redmond’s trousers and stroking it up and down. Redmond gasped loudly and shuddered.

‘Whatever you do, don’t ****,’ said Riolta naughtily. ‘You do want to be alive for dessert, don’t you?’

Redmond nodded. In a flash, Riolta had disappeared underneath the table and begun to unbutton Redmond’s trousers, her nimble fingers attacking his fly with rapid expertise as the busty bow-woman sought voraciously for his cock.

At exactly the moment that Riolta buried the stiff tool in her moist, hot mouth, devouring the huge, plum shaped head between her sugary lips, a waitress appeared in the doorway to the V.I.P. room.

‘Is everything alright with your meal, sir?’