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Understandably so, since it was mid-october, after all. I shivered and pulled my jacket closer towards me, visible chill bumps forming under my tight black leggings. I gazed at the clock in my dimly lit car. 10:14. I had been sitting in the passenger seat for about 20 minutes now, waiting for my damn stomach to calm down. I had excused myself from the apartment complex full of cold beer and good company due to waves of nausea that kept sweeping over me, along with gradual crescendoes of sharp pain that came over my stomach. I don’t know if it was because of something I ate, or simply because of his presence. Either way, something was making me nervous. I felt the faint buzzing of my phone next to my thigh and glanced at the screen. It was him. I flipped it open and read his text, which was filled with evident concern. ‘Are you ok? Do you need me to come down?’ I smiled faintly. He was such a good friend. At times I didn’t think I deserved someone as kind and caring as him in my. A couple sitting across from us were watching, but who cared, maybe they’ll get some today too. Soon I felt his thick, long finger enter my vagina I made a soft moan. He put two, then three, when he got to four I thought I was going to die. The waiter came to the table with our drinks. I wonder if he can smell the sex? He just looked at me and asked was everything ok? (Being as though I was sweating in an air-conditioned restaurant.) I just nodded my head yes, pressing my lips tightly together, hindering a moan of pure ecstasy that was trying it’s best to escape. When he turned to walk away I gripped the tablecloth, digging my long manicured nails into the fabric. The glasses almost fell off of the table, but so the hell what, this shit feels lovely. Under the table he kept fingering me until I couldn’t stand it anymore. I put a napkin to my mouth to try to muffle out my moans, I don’t think it worked, because the couple at the other table continue to stare which believe it or not.
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