[F4M] Stall

You flashed a grin at the waiter, thanking him as the steaming plates were placed on our tables. A lovely Italian restaurant that would have otherwise been a perfect date after a long week, but… my body had other plans. We’d been going at it for less than a week, walks in the park, going out to eat and watching movies together but we’d yet to actually get naked. So much for Tinder and instant hook-ups.

My eyes watched as your hands grasped the fork, and for the first time in my life I wanted to be a fork. God. I wanted your arms around my body, your hands pressed up against my back, your lips brushing up against my neck, your bre- You repeated your question, pulling me out of my lustful daze as I stared up blankly. Food, yes, that!

“It’s uhh…” I hesitated to say good as I’d not actually tasted it yet and the watering of my mouth was more than likely of a different hunger. Trying to appear less foolish, I quickly speared the bowl of spaghetti before raising it hastily to my lips, mouth now watering doubly as hard with the divine smell seeping through my nose and tickling at my empty stomach.

I couldn’t imagine how blatantly aroused I sounded with the moan passing through my throat as I sucked up the strands, mind wishing and imagining less than publicly presentable thoughts about what I’d rather be stuffing my face with. My cheeks flushed red, thighs coming together at the growing wetness beneath my dress and just how loud that sound of pleasure was. The food was good, but somehow I doubted any food could be that good. You have no idea how badly I want you... I wanted to whisper but only made a few more muffled sounds into the mouthful of warmth that I so desperately wanted to be of another substance.

Calm the fuck down Rainbow, next thing you know you’ll be on top or under the table at this rate, I chided myself, nodding dumbly at the food in my mouth before swallowing, unconsciously savouring the saltiness more than anything else.

“It’s good.” I replied finally, after what felt like a whole minute. It was like someone had decided to set fire between my legs, a fire that defied all logic as the wet became wetter; your chewing motion made me wonder how it would feel to have my thighs wrapped around your head, your hands up against my ass and back pressed against the wall with my fingers curled into your hair. I couldn’t help it, every second was a waking daydream of lust. Whether it was the season or some time of the month didn’t matter, all that did was that I needed you.

Now!

The hammer I’d been holding my breath for finally fell, striking the metal and jolting my body straight up. Your wrist was shackled by my grip as I dragged you off, the bewildered stares of waitrons and customers hardly making a dent on my resolve. I was going to fuck you, to hell with anyone who said otherwise. Your protests, if any were a preach to the choir, a cry on deaf ears as I let the ironclad cuff of my skin speak for itself. The fact that you hadn’t made a move the entire week we’d been dating was mind boggling, considering how much you stared at me and how many painfully obvious signs I’d given off. I wanted to scream, a growl taking it’s place as the bathroom door shut behind us.

A second later, I slammed your back up against the stall, teeth gritted like some ravenous wolf that had finally caught a lamb.

“We. Are. Fucking.” I snarled, making sure each word was clear as day with hands pulling away your jacket-y suit. The sounds of the stall rattling as we fucked already playing out in my mind, the constant quaking as each thrust shook them to their very foundations. A bitch in heat would have run at my sight, and here you were in mine.

Prompt Status: Closed (Edit: this should have been "Stall Status" instead...)

The Tinder Profile

Do I really need to spell it out to you? Fuck. Me. Or at least let me fuck you...