Cookies and Beer
We were finishing our third bottle of beer each when the fortune cookies arrived like telegrams we could choose for ourselves. Kate reached out as the plate was still being lowered. Pete followed her hand. I should have learned then that there was no such thing as an innocent smile on Pete. He slid into fever mode almost immediately. I could almost feel him tasting the auburn down on Kate's arm, like his eyes were little tongues.
As Kate cracked open the cookie her eyes shot like rockets aimed to destroy targets in central-Pete. I heard myself asking for another beer in lieu of a finalized tab. Can you bring it right away? There was this dry mouth and that quick-release lever sprung--the one that permits everything to continue.
That these two were connecting was obvious. It was exhilarating to watch. Pete had slid his way slowly to her around the curve of the U-shaped naugahyde. The two co-workers sat close together and across from me. Kate was recently hired and although we did office chatter together I didn't know anything about her, really. But at least the two of us interacted there and did talk. It looked to me even up until this morning that she didn't know who Pete was. By the arrival of my after-lunch beer Kate was squirming slightly next to him, here in the bowels of the Golden Dragon.
--You are eager to please. Make sure it brings benefit.
--A new friend has some interesting ideas.
--You will attend a party where strange customs prevail.
The last one was mine.
Kate was average to an extreme in her appearance, if that's possible. When she smiled it was pleasant, and I have not yet seen her get angry. I had not yet seen her exhibit much of any drive or emotion at the office. But I figured that was just the office. I was right. Here she was openly squirming about something--something Pete was doing to her under the table, across from me. Neither one of them was moving very much but it was obvious that something was happening.
The jokes about our fortunes dried up and Kate wondered aloud about another beer, then decided against it. She leaned toward the end of the booth, away from Pete, and excused herself. As she began her walk to the restroom Pete slid out and followed her, blurting out "Nature calls." I was sitting by myself.
I was sitting by myself for more than 10 minutes. It was Kate who returned, alone. She stopped a few feet from the table and turned away from me. She slowly bent over retrieving something from the floor, although there was nothing there. Her short loose skirt began to lift. There it was: even though the thigh highs she wore were a nude shade, the contrast of a pale milky skin crowning the sheer tops was still there, arousing, nearly blinding. As she continued bending, I saw this whiteness of flesh turn to a dark rosiness between her legs and her cheeks behind. No panties. She stood bent over before me like this for a slow thud of a heartbeat. Then she straightened up, smoothed down her skirt and sat next to me. I took a slug of beer like a gasp for air.
"Order me a beer." I called the old waiter over. He kept looking at Kate. Apparently I was not the only one who watched her searching the floor for something. After he left she turned to me and smiled. The pleasantness I was so fond of now had an edge to it. I remained silent, and in doing so I felt I was telling her what I had just seen. I didn't smile back either, and this I felt was my way of telling her that what I had just seen aroused me.
She looked around as the beer was placed before her. "Where's Pete?"
When I shrugged and said he hadn't returned yet she lifted the bottle and took a few good gulps from it before placing it back on the table. Again--a new edge. "Did you enjoy what you saw?"
I was taken back by what she said, but I was also taken in by it. I replied with a mumbled affirmation.
"Was that a yes? I want to see you nod. Did you enjoy watching?"
I lowered and raised my head slowly, catching the intensity of her stare as I looked up. After I was done Kate too nodded a yes to me as she whispered "I enjoyed showing you."
I had no doubt that she did enjoy it. Her slight chest caused motion in the folds of her simple white blouse as she told this to me. She lifted the bottle once more and this time sipped, her lips tight against the bottle, her eyes on me. She licked her lips and sighed.
"But something was missing, right? I'll bet you're the type of man who would have liked to see what I wore under my skirt, and how snug it could be against me. Even in me. No?" I went for broke when I heard this remark.
"I was surprised that you aren't wearing panties, if that's what you mean." Saying the words was like allowing my fingers to begin touching her in many places, repeatedly. " And yes, I think you have found that type of man . . . " And here I stopped to empty that fourth bottle before continuing. "The type of man who wonders what goes on under a table, the type of man who wants a flash of stocking top, and thigh, and panty, the type of man who has found it difficult to express these things before."
The edge on her smile sharpened with each word I spoke. "It's been difficult because you have never known anyone like me before, right?" I had to agree.
"Here." Her hand slid something into my lap and as it did so brushed against my erect cock without any remark. I looked down and saw a bunching of black lace tenting my tent. "I *was* wearing panties until I went to powder my nose. You can imagine what your friend was doing to me under the table, right?" She leaned into me and reduced her low voice to a whisper. "They're all wet. Feel them."
I just stared at her.
"Don't you want to feel them?" She brushed my face with her fingers. I took my own to the fabric.
"Don't you want to taste them? Look at me and taste them. Taste your fingers now." Her hand dropped from my face to my crotch, unzipped my pants and freed my hardon, resting gently upon it. Why did I think she would automatically grab and yank me? She was moving over my cock with only the slightest of pressure. Before I tasted her on my fingers I brought them to my nostrils and Kate let out a little gasp of pleasure to see this. When they went into my mouth she squeezed me once, hard, and her fingertips snaked around while her palm held me tight. The waiter chose this moment to return for my empty bottle. Kate and I didn't even bother acknowledging his presence.
"Kate, maybe we shouldn't be doing--"
"Oh, I'll bet you'd like to feel how nice and silky these can be around your cock. Wouldn't you? Shhh . . . don't speak, just nod."
I'm glad I got that option because I'm not sure I could have spoken right then. Very dry mouth, and I wasn't thinking of calling back the waiter. I nodded, a bit quicker than the last time, and reached for her beer. She intercepted my hand.
"No, no. I need that. You can't have it." She took the nearly-empty bottle and swung it under the table. One of her legs kicked into me as she spread them. I watched the rhythmic little movements her arm was making. When her whole body barely began to move in time with her arm she brought the bottle back to the table. "You know what I was doing under there, don't you?" Her hand now draped the panties over my cock and began pumping. I nodded my yes. I was learning.
The bottle remained on the table. I wanted that taste so badly but couldn't move. I stared at Kate as she jacked me off quickly into her panties. For the minute or so it was happening her smile became wilder and wilder. She directed her eyes to the beer bottle every so often, and immediately afterward to my face and my cock. She spoke, a variant of her previous comments.
"Nod yes just before. Nod yes just before, all right?" She pumped me furiously. You will attend a party where strange customs prevail. Her panties felt cool and soft and damp against my cock. My hips began to move. I looked straight into her eyes and nodded, over and over. She watched me, continued to handle me, did no more.
"What's the matter? What do you want?" I was nearly at climax.
"You want beer? Shall we order another round?" Her fingers separated and ran over my balls, under my balls, into my ass. "Is that what you want? Some beer?" Her fingernails scraped the insides of my thighs on their way back up to squeezing my cock once more. "Tell me what you want."
"I want to taste you." I don't know how I kept my voice at the same whisper level as hers. My words caused her hand to move down again, retracing the route it had just traveled, this time with even more urgency. Kate was probably enjoying this as much as I was. That possibility nearly made me lose it. "I want that bottle in my mouth. You put it inside you. I want it in my mouth when I come."
Her free hand disappeared under the table, deep in her lap. I continued nodding, trying my last-ditch best to hold off. "In your mouth?" Her tone shifted slightly, and I knew better where the shift was taking her when she continued. "Like a cock?"
She lifted the bottle and pointed it toward my lips. I could see fluid coating most of its long neck. I wanted to taste it so badly while she jerked me to climax. "Will you nod for me again?" She shook the bottle from side to side and a drop of something flew off. I nodded, slow and considered.
Kate pressed the bottle between my lips and began moving it in much the same way her hand was moving over my cock. I wondered whether the few other patrons noticed any of this, and if they did would it somehow translate into fun and games of no serious nature, much like how I saw Kate and Pete as they sat together and something set Kate to squirming.
"Tastes good, doesn't it?" I nodded once more as I came, with as little additional movement as possible.
I continued to suck at the bottle a while as my body wound down, and the taste I savored was lost. Kate faked a sneeze and brought the black "hanky" to her face, leaving something there rather than cleaning up. Just a touch of something, barely visible, except for me who knew where the wisp had been. She placed it in her purse, and I stuck my cock back in my shorts and zipped up my pants. I never did drink the bit of beer that was left in there. Kate picked up the bottle and emptied it herself.
"I'll tell you. I really wasn't sure about you. I have a way of getting men to open up quickly to me though, don't I? I knew you had a touch of the voyeur in you; I could see that just from how you looked at people in the office. As well as I've known Pete I wasn't sure he could pull this off. He is not quite the exhibitionist I am. So for him to finger me in front of you--well, he's a darling, isn't he? But he did get what he wanted, the old peeper."
As she turned toward a couple of tables in the back I followed the movement of her head and I saw Pete. He sat alone in the half-dark, his hands in his lap.
"You know Pete?" I started to think we'd never get back to the office, and I didn't care. I wanted to spend more time with both of them and, besides, my dry mouth needed another beer.
"Yes, but I didn't want you to know that, right away. You understand why now, don't you?"
I nodded one last time and looked again toward those tables. Pete smiled an edgy smile, and nodded back.
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