She smirked across the table at him.
He laughed. “What?!”
She raised an eyebrow. “I beg your pardon?”
He looked puzzled, then gave her a sheepish smile.
“What are you thinking, Ma’am?”
She eyed his crotch, then looked back up to his face.
His eyes widened, brow furrowed.
“Your lap,” she said, as if it wasn’t obvious.
Understanding dawned. He hesitated, then shifted his chair back, the feet scraping loudly on the floor, he didn’t look around to see if anyone noticed. He leaned back in the seat, grinned cockily at her, looked pointedly at his crotch, then back at her.
She laughed. In a swift move, she stood, slid over and settled herself in his lap.
She shuffled to get more comfortable. He pulled her close, one arm going around her back, the other landing gently on her thigh, stroking her leg through the light fabric of her skirt.
She wrapped an arm around his neck, leaning into him. She grabbed her wine off the table, took a sip and offered it to his mouth. He parted his lips and she tipped the glass to let the cold clear liquid flow onto his tongue, watching intently as he swallowed.
“Lick it,” she whispered into his ear.
She watched his tongue, moistly tipped, flatten and swipe the edge of the glass slowly, his eyes looking up at her.
She made a low sound of pleasure and felt him stiffen under her.
She brought her lips to rest against his ear, breathed softly into it, “Good boy, I like it when you do that…”
“Yes Ma’am,” he whispered, his eyes glazing over.
He tilted his head to give her better access to his ear, he loved her voice, low and gentle, her mouth against him. He half closed his eyes.
She chuckled softly at his reaction, feather-light exhalations against his skin.
She whispered, “You want me to tell you some secrets, boy?”
His lips curled upwards into a smile, he took a deep breath.
“Yes, please Ma’am.”
She contemplated him, had another sip of wine. She tilted his head up to her, brought her lips to his and let the cool liquid slip into his mouth. She followed with a kiss before he could swallow, her fingers curling around his neck to hold him there. He tried to quickly down the wine and kiss her back at the same time, reaching for her just as she pulled away.
She squirmed in his lap. He sank down a little lower in his seat, enjoying her weight moving against him. He held his breath, waiting.
She brought her mouth back to his ear, “Secrets?”
He exhaled, nodded.
“Please, Ma’am,” he said softly.
She thought for a moment. Then she lowered her lips back to his ear, her warm breath against him, and she started quietly telling him dark, dirty, terrifying, wonderful secrets, her lips occasionally grazing his sensitive skin, her breath delivering each word directly to his core.