his parents or both.
I never thought of Evan as an accountant. He’s so outgoing and boisterous. Not the type of guy you’d ever imagine sitting in an office crunching numbers. But he studied forensic accounting, which he says is a lot more interesting because it’s more like being a detective than anything else. Whatever . If it has anything to do with numbers and it’s not the price of something to buy, I don’t care.
As Evan’s parents drone on about the advantages of being an accountant and how much it will benefit Evan when he decides to run for Congress, I can feel Evan place his hand on my thigh. I glance over at him and he gives me an innocent look but his actions are anything but innocent.
His fingers make their way up my thigh, lightly caressing me as they travel toward the spot between my legs that is beginning to grow wet with anticipation. The words coming out of Evan’s parents’ mouths become increasingly incoherent as Evan continues to caress me under the table. I almost gasp when he hikes up my skirt, moves his hand even higher and begins to caress me over my thin lace underwear.
I clear my throat to try and get him to stop but he doesn’t even slow down. He’s intent on fingering me in front of his parents in the middle of the restaurant, only the tablecloth hides the naughtiness of his hand between my legs. I try putting my hand on his to stop him but it’s fruitless. When I look at him, he has a look of sheer determination in his eyes.
As he uses his fingers to skillfully play between my legs, I can feel myself getting hot and bothered. Then Evan leans in and whispers, “You’re starting to blush.”
“We’ll you’re starting to turn me on,” I whisper back.
“I aim to please,” he replies.
“And I’m expecting you to please me a lot when we get back to your place.”
When the waitress returns with dessert menus, Evan finally removes his hand from between my legs and eases it back on top of the table without attracting any attention.
“We have a lovely crème brûlée and a divine raspberry chocolate mousse,” the waitress suggests.
“The crème brûlée sounds delicious,” Evan’s mother says. “I think I’ll try that.”
“An extra fork,” Evan’s dad says as he pats his belly. When we were young, I remember Evan’s dad being quite a looker with a toned and tanned body. But now in his 60s, he’s got a little paunch, no doubt from a combination of lack of exercise and overeating.
“Would you and Keira like to share a dessert?” Evan’s mom asks hopefully.
Evan’s mom has been acting strange towards me eve r since Evan mentioned that Aaron got engaged. It’s as if she believes now that Aaron is taken, I’ll be free to marry her son. As if that will ever happen . Evan is my fuck buddy and that’s all he’ll ever be.
“We’ll take a raspberry chocolate mousse,” Evan says. “One fork.”
I raise an eyebrow and give Evan a look that says: you’re not going to share ?
He just grins at me playfully. I’ve never actually seen Evan so carefree. I want to attribute it solely to graduating and moving on to the next phase in life but I know there’s more to it than that. He seems genuinely happy.
When the waitress brings our desserts, Evan’s mom and dad dig into their crème brûlée but Evan just stares at the raspberry chocolate mousse.
“Looks delicious, doesn’t it?” he taunts as he waves the single fork over the dessert.
“It looks okay,” I reply trying to sound blasé but secretly wanting to devour every delectable looking morsel of it. I’m not much of an eater but when it comes to anything with chocolate, I can’t resist.
I can feel my mouth start to water as Evan dips his fork into the mousse and removes the first bite. He looks at me for a moment as he holds the piece up between us.
“Open your mouth,” he commands. I do as I’m told which may be the first time ever. I’m usually the one telling other people what to do,
I never thought of Evan as an accountant. He’s so outgoing and boisterous. Not the type of guy you’d ever imagine sitting in an office crunching numbers. But he studied forensic accounting, which he says is a lot more interesting because it’s more like being a detective than anything else. Whatever . If it has anything to do with numbers and it’s not the price of something to buy, I don’t care.
As Evan’s parents drone on about the advantages of being an accountant and how much it will benefit Evan when he decides to run for Congress, I can feel Evan place his hand on my thigh. I glance over at him and he gives me an innocent look but his actions are anything but innocent.
His fingers make their way up my thigh, lightly caressing me as they travel toward the spot between my legs that is beginning to grow wet with anticipation. The words coming out of Evan’s parents’ mouths become increasingly incoherent as Evan continues to caress me under the table. I almost gasp when he hikes up my skirt, moves his hand even higher and begins to caress me over my thin lace underwear.
I clear my throat to try and get him to stop but he doesn’t even slow down. He’s intent on fingering me in front of his parents in the middle of the restaurant, only the tablecloth hides the naughtiness of his hand between my legs. I try putting my hand on his to stop him but it’s fruitless. When I look at him, he has a look of sheer determination in his eyes.
As he uses his fingers to skillfully play between my legs, I can feel myself getting hot and bothered. Then Evan leans in and whispers, “You’re starting to blush.”
“We’ll you’re starting to turn me on,” I whisper back.
“I aim to please,” he replies.
“And I’m expecting you to please me a lot when we get back to your place.”
When the waitress returns with dessert menus, Evan finally removes his hand from between my legs and eases it back on top of the table without attracting any attention.
“We have a lovely crème brûlée and a divine raspberry chocolate mousse,” the waitress suggests.
“The crème brûlée sounds delicious,” Evan’s mother says. “I think I’ll try that.”
“An extra fork,” Evan’s dad says as he pats his belly. When we were young, I remember Evan’s dad being quite a looker with a toned and tanned body. But now in his 60s, he’s got a little paunch, no doubt from a combination of lack of exercise and overeating.
“Would you and Keira like to share a dessert?” Evan’s mom asks hopefully.
Evan’s mom has been acting strange towards me eve r since Evan mentioned that Aaron got engaged. It’s as if she believes now that Aaron is taken, I’ll be free to marry her son. As if that will ever happen . Evan is my fuck buddy and that’s all he’ll ever be.
“We’ll take a raspberry chocolate mousse,” Evan says. “One fork.”
I raise an eyebrow and give Evan a look that says: you’re not going to share ?
He just grins at me playfully. I’ve never actually seen Evan so carefree. I want to attribute it solely to graduating and moving on to the next phase in life but I know there’s more to it than that. He seems genuinely happy.
When the waitress brings our desserts, Evan’s mom and dad dig into their crème brûlée but Evan just stares at the raspberry chocolate mousse.
“Looks delicious, doesn’t it?” he taunts as he waves the single fork over the dessert.
“It looks okay,” I reply trying to sound blasé but secretly wanting to devour every delectable looking morsel of it. I’m not much of an eater but when it comes to anything with chocolate, I can’t resist.
I can feel my mouth start to water as Evan dips his fork into the mousse and removes the first bite. He looks at me for a moment as he holds the piece up between us.
“Open your mouth,” he commands. I do as I’m told which may be the first time ever. I’m usually the one telling other people what to do,
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