Discreetly

Riva kept her hands folded neatly on her lap, smiling at the right moments until finally she could bear it no longer. Her eyes fell on an elegant dining-tine, two-pronged on one end but with a rounded handle on the other. Riva surreptitiously slid it off the edge of the table onto her lap. Beneath the tablecloth she parted her thighs and let the hem of her gown slide higher. The smooth round handle of the long dining-tine found her bare pussy.

She sat there tracing slow, teasing circles over her swollen clit as she listened to the steamy tale, one of her friends lowering her voice as she described the merchant’s heavy cock and the way the queen's handmaids had taken turns swallowing it. Riva then pushed the handle's rounded end inside herself in shallow strokes. The slender metal gave only frustrating friction, enough to keep her ache burning but never enough to satisfy. Her walls clenched uselessly around it while she listened to the explicit gossip, thighs growing slick.

By the time the plates were cleared, her breath came shorter and her body felt feverish. The friends rose to leave. Riva let the dining-tine slip from her fingers to clatter softly on the floor, then stood and escorted them out with gracious smiles and promises to meet again. Once the door closed she turned back into the room.

Philip, the young manservant, was crawling out from beneath the tablecloth, already nearly halfway to the servants' door. The dining-tine’s handle glistened between his lips as he licked every trace of her from the metal, savoring the taste with half-lidded eyes. Riva gasped at the sight.