Under The Table

Without a word, but with a twinkle in her eye, Lois got down on the floor and crawled underneath the red-and-white checkered tablecloth. It was dark...but the reporter felt her was forward on hands and knees, until one of her hands brushed against her date's shoe.

Lois slid her hand up from the sneaker, along the jeans...feeling the hard muscle of Blaze's leg, like those of a dancer or a runner. She scooted forward, careful not to bump her head on the table, tracing her hand up past Angelica's knee to her thigh.

There was a bulge there, soft but with definite potential. Definitely not one for tucking, Lois joked to herself. Her stomach was full of butterflies, surprised that she was actually doing this, wondering if anyone would catch her...but some imp of the perverse was whispering in her ear tonight, and she wanted to do something naughty.

Her fingers found the zipper.

Quietly, carefully, Lois pulled it down. The scent of her lover's musk filled the close confined space under the table...a lockerroom reek that reminded Lois of hampers full of jockstraps, but in a pleasant kind of way. She fished the great soft cock out of Blaze's pants by touch.

Lois heard steps approach the table, and froze with the dick in her hand. A man's voice, and then Angelica's. The waiter taking their order.

Lois licked her lips, shivering with excitement. Now or never...

The reporter brought the cock up to her mouth and licked it. The prick was soft and warm in her hand, as big soft as many men were hard and erect, and Lois wrapped her lips around the head and began peeling back the foreskin, letting her tongue roll over the flange. Blaze hadn't washed her dick since she had fucked Lois, and the sticky remnants of their encounter were still there, sweet and salty and sour mixed together.

The shaft grew hard slowly. Lois could feel the head, swollen now, brushing against the top of her mouth. The footsteps went away. Maybe he'd be back with drinks or appetizers, but Lois figured they had at least twenty or thirty minutes to wait until the food arrived.

She intended to use it.

Long, slow blowjobs were one of Lois' specialties. It was something she had gotten very good at in college, where she had finally found the opportunity and willing partners to let her indulge in exploring a penis with her mouth and tongue for as long as she wanted. To run her lips down the length of the cock, to press her lips to the swollen balls while gently stroking the tip...just to taste and love every inch of it, at her own pace.

With a cock as big as her date had, of course, Lois could do something special. Lois had lost track of time, but she felt the tremors up Blaze's thighs, the ache in her own knees from leaning on the hard floorboards, and knew it was time. She took a deep breath, wrapped her lips around her teeth, and pressed the head against the back of her mouth. There was the urge to gag—always, but she held it back with an effort of will, pushing forward until the swollen prick slid into her throat.

Lois brought her head back and forth, her hair brushing the bottom of the table. she could feel Angelica quivering, the shemale striving to sit still even as her hips tried to move. The reporter pressed her jaws together lightly, just enough to increase the pressure...and finally felt the warm spurt down her throat that she had craved. She bobbed her head a few more times, milking the last drops out, before letting the softening cock slip out of her mouth.

Wordlessly, she crawled backwards, out from under the table, and regained her seat. There were two bottles of wine on the table, open and breathing. Lois took her napkin and wiped her face, unable to keep the naughty little grin away. Angelica simply looked a bit flustered and dazed.

"Did you order an appetizer?" Lois asked.

"No," Blaze replied, leaning back in her chair.

"No matter," Lois winked. "I already had mine."