"You know," she said sweetly, "I've always wanted to suck a guy's dick in public."
He choked and spluttered, spraying toast crumbs over the diner's table. A minute or two of coughing and hacking and he had recovered enough to say, "Christ, couldn't you kind of work up to something like that? My heart isn't what it once was. Can't take surprises like that one anymore."
"Bollocks," she opined, and put a hand on his on the table. "You're not even forty yet. I just surprised you. I like surprising you."
"You do at that," he allowed, drinking deeply from his orange juice. "Ahh. That's better. Now what the hell prompted you to say that anyway?"
She looked around the crowded room. "Dunno. I'm just feeling frisky right now, and this seemed like as good a time as any. This diner's tables" -- she patted theirs -- "have nice long tablecloths, I've noticed."
His eyes widened as he realized where she was going with this. "No. Absolutely not."
"Oh, come onnnnnnn....." she wheedled, her hand already running up his thigh to his crotch. "Don't tell me you've never fantasized about it too."
"Fantasizing and doing are two different things," he hissed. "Dammit, stop that!" 'That' was her opening his fly and snaking a hand inside, wrapping her fingers around his rapidly swelling cock. He drew breath sharply and darted a shaken glance around. No one appeared to have noticed...yet.
He turned to her to give her a tongue-lashing and blinked; she wasn't there anymore, but he could still feel her hand on his cock. What the hell? Oh, no, she wasn't. Was she?
Yes, she was. Under the cover of the tablecloth, she'd slipped under the table and was now on her knees in front of him, her talented tongue now dancing over the crown of his cock. He grunted, the shock of pleasure stunning him, as she took him deep, humming quietly to herself, no doubt laughing like a demon inside as he moaned helplessly and began thrusting forward into her eagerly sucking mouth. She was really going for it, too, using every trick of her considerable skill. Pleasure was exploding outward from his groin, adrenaline whipping through his bloodstream. One of his hands crept under the table and twined into her hair; he heard her giggle, low and soft, around his cock.
Suddenly he sat bolt upright in shock, eyes going in terror to the front door, where a familiar pair of faces had come in. Oh fuck, that's the Richardsons. Please don't let them come over here, please don't let them come over here, please don't let them come over here.....
"Jimmy!" A hailing shout. "What've you been up to?"
If you only knew, he thought, forcing a grin onto his face and struggling to bite back the groans of ecstasy that wanted to escape as underneath the table she continued to suck his dick loudly, sloppily, enthusiastically. He just prayed he wouldn't give the game away when he blasted off down her throat, which by all indications wasn't going to be very long....
(Microfantasy Monday is the brainchild of Ang, the Sweltering Celt. If you want to see who else is playing, go see Ang!)