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Donna’s eyes darted around the restaurant’s dining room, the other patrons quietly eating their dinners on fine china as she felt calloused fingers push her skirt up her thighs along with the long edge of the white table cloth. She was about to protest again, when she barely heard Dean warn her from his hiding place under the table, “You did promise me pie, baby.”
She barely bit back a whimper as he spread her legs open and leaned forward and pressed a kiss against her cloth covered pussy. Her hands clutched tight around the after dinner coffee that the waiter had just delivered. With cheeks flushed a slight shade of pink, she kept a watchful eye even as Dean’s lips teased at her thighs and mound, his fingers stroking over her panties.
It seemed like an eternity had passed before he slipped one of those teasing fingers under the elastic and pulled them to the side, exposing her glistening curls to him. Nipping at the tender skin of her inner thigh, he wasted no more time and drew his tongue through her folds. Moaning against her as the clean, salty taste of her hit his tongue. Hooking his hands behind her knees, Dean urged her forward a little so he could bury his mouth in her sweet tasting cunt.