An Enticing Brunch
written by:
Aaron Logan

The spring day was cool but the sun was out and the morning was quickly warming. He watched her finish preparing, putting on her skirt and top and running a brush through her hair, as they were departing for a late morning brunch. He figured the restaurant in the lobby would be adequate or there were more available only blocks away. As much as he wanted to stay in the room rubbing and caressing her, his need for food had overcome him and she had opted against room service.

The room opened to the lobby although they were on the fourth floor. A walkway and a glass railing opened to the vast expanse, rooms opposite them and the lobby, restaurant and lounge below. There was the quiet hum of people going about their business. As she approached the railing to look over, a stab of excitement and desire swept over him. He hadn't seen her put on panties. He really wasn't watching that close in the room. Perhaps she'd slipped into the restroom and put them on there. Or perhaps the people below were getting a far better view than they'd anticipated. He doubted if it mattered much. No one there seemed to even take note; likely too consumed by their own goings on. He looked her in the eyes as they strode to the elevator searching in vain for a clue to her under-garments. She simply smiled slightly revealing nothing and waited patiently for the car to arrive.

It was Saturday, shortly after 11 am. Many of the guests at the hotel had already left for the day but in the elevator car they were still joined by a man and a woman in suits, obviously intense business people discussing quietly the details of some sort of merger, a woman in a bathing suit wrapped in a robe heading to the pool, and a man in a hotel uniform most likely maintenance or security. As they'd entered the car first he found himself in the corner, she was standing in front of him and a little off the wall. Beside him was the woman in the swimsuit and the others were in front the uniformed man taking his place in front of the control panel. The car descended but soon came to a stop at the third floor. Another couple entered dressed casually and arguing about the day's activities.

She took the opportunity of the additional passengers and stepped backward until she was just touching him. With the subtlest of movements he drew his hand up her thigh still searching for the underwear. First his fingertips then his nails drew almost imperceptibly up her leg. He watched with great excitement feeling her skin under his fingers and scanning the woman in the bathing suit for any sign of recognition of his actions. The car began moving again and he felt a since of urgency as the two and the one ticked by and the "L" on the display over the door lit up. The doors opened and he'd only made it just to the top of her hip. He knew full well she had panties that actually sat higher than that but as the people exited the cab, he had to relinquish his searching. The woman in the swim-suit made a move for the door, he turned slightly, concealing his hand on her thigh, invited the woman to proceed, and with a slight tug at the fabric straightened her skirt as she moved toward the door.

They started for the restaurant positioned in the middle of the expansive lobby and greeted the host with a nod and smile. The man looked them up and down and retrieved two menus from a shelf adjacent the small podium. "Two for brunch?" he asked already knowing the answer.

"Have you got a little, out of the way, corner booth? We're looking for a lazy kind of chillaxing meal," he stated with naturally deep tones and confidence. His hand rested casually on her back and he stepped slightly forward to be uncomfortably close to the host. His free hand extended and with a grace and fluidity the host retrieved the folded bill from him, turning and taking a large stride over the threshold. "Sir, I have the perfect table for you. Right this way."

He saw her glance up at him, slightly smiling, but maybe a little put off... He couldn't tell exactly but did not look to confirm. He felt this was his domain and her, his guest. He could get things done and take care of her here. All she needed to do was relax and let him. Her glance quickly shifted to the ornately set tables with candles centering each one, multiple collections of utensils each varying slightly from its predecessor and extravagantly folded cotton napkins resting on each of the plates. They passed numerous other tables with people already in various stages of their meals, chatting quietly or sipping what remained of their coffee from small delicate cups. At last the host led them to a booth, high frosted glass walls on two sides, an empty table creating a dead-end to the path through the restaurant. The host stepped to one side and he guided her gently but firmly past the host to slide into the booth facing the other tables. He thanked the host and confirmed that this was perfect before sliding in next to her. The host handed them their menus and excused himself stating the waiter would be along shortly to get them whatever they needed.

He glanced over the menu quickly suddenly not very hungry and looked past the booth to the others enjoying their meals. The closest occupied table to them was some 15 feet away and on the other side of a partition splitting the space down the middle. A man sat with his back to the partition and a woman facing him. She was leaned over the table talking intently to the man. From the angle she would have to turn her head well around to look at the two of them getting settled in their booth. The frosted glass walls must have framed the walkway on the other side because they could clearly hear the chatter of the people passing by and could make out the shadows and shapes through the glass. From his seat on the outside of the bench he could clearly see all the way down the path through the tables and recognized the waiter as he approached. This, he agreed, was the perfectly secluded little table. The skylights some six stories overhead bathed the whole lobby in warm sunlight and beneath the hum of the den there was soft music playing.

The waiter approached his spotless white apron and black shirt contrasting sharply on his lean figure. "Exceptional day isn't it?" he asked with a practiced respect and genuine appreciation for the warm glow in the room.

"It is indeed," he paused slightly glancing once more at the menu. "I think I'll have a mocha, and something simple, like a cranberry muffin."

"Excellent sir," the waiter took his menu and shifted his glance to her, "and for the lady?"

She was staring at the menu terrified, shifting in her seat and glancing from page to page. It was in French, he knew she didn't have the slightest idea what she was looking at. She began to raise a nervous finger, but he reached over and took the menu from her gently and folded it handing it smoothly to the waiter. "Now," he began ever so gently, "what sounds good for breakfast?"

"I'd like some orange juice," she looked timidly at the waiter smiling back at her, "and some French toast?"

"Of course miss," the waiter replied kindly, "and anything else? Perhaps some bacon or ham?"

"Do you have some fruit?"

"Of course," a smile stretching at the waiter's lips. His glance shifted back to him, "That will be all?"

"That will do, thank you," he replied. The waiter nodded and turned striding between the swinging doors into the kitchen. She looked at him preparing to confront him with her embarrassment and displeasure but was interrupted by his hand squeezing her leg firmly underneath the table. Her eyes softened with his touch, it was caring and securing.

"Maybe after lunch we should go take some pictures. I'd hate for you to have brought your camera all this way for nothing," she said teasingly.

He took a long moment to think about this comment. They had discussed erotic photos in the past and he'd brought his camera on the off chance an opportunity might present itself to photograph her. But her comment almost presented as a, "let's go somewhere and take pictures of the scenery" idea. Even after considerable contemplation he still wasn't confident in her intensions. "I would enjoy that tremendously." He finally replied, still not sure what he was agreeing to.

They idly began chatting about the day, the city, and the other people having breakfast. It was truly lost on both as his hand stroking her thigh became the true focus of their attention. Soon the drinks were delivered followed shortly by the food. They ate innocently enough at the start but soon he was feeling full and again concealed his hand beneath the table to caress her smooth leg, only occasionally picking at the remains of his muffin or sipping his coffee with his free hand. In time she too began losing focus on the meal and enjoying the sensual torment of his touch.

The waiter tending to his other tables would regularly make eye-contact with him and a subtle shake of the head would send him scurrying off confident his guests were contented and did not require his attention. Soon she found herself leaning back in the booth relaxing under his constant, delicate stroking. She adjusted in her seat, slightly spreading her legs and laying a hand next to him on the leather. She rubbed him softly with the back of her hand and his slid down her leg capturing the seam

Her eyes felt heavy as she idly picked at the small pieces of fruit in her little cup. His hand on her leg felt wonderful and while she certainly wanted the interaction to escalate she was also searching the room for anyone who might notice. As she shifted in her seat, hoping to encourage him, a playful smile tugged at her lips; she wasn't sure if he even knew there was nothing under that skirt. He froze as she'd began to move but quickly resumed when her hand met his leg. And now, her skirt sliding softly up her thighs, he was going to find out soon enough. The anticipation rose and she found herself struggling for air, consciously fighting the excitement trying to appear as just another couple in the restaurant. His hand traced slowly almost painfully back down the top of her now exposed thigh. She selected a grape from the bowl, skewered it on her fork and gazed at him using all her might to hide the terror and excitement, smiling mischievously as she wrapped her tongue around it and pulled it into her mouth. He looked back at her equally playful and she felt him grab her knee firmly. A forceful demand replaced the subtle requests she'd grown accustomed to earlier that morning and her leg slid over until it rested against his.

She suddenly felt more exposed more vulnerable and nervous. Her eyes flashed around the room from table to empty table for anyone who saw the indiscreet movement. She considered using her napkin to cover herself, the cool air now teasing her exposed lips and the moisture collecting there. Then to his face, his eyes now soft, longing and almost bashful. She raised an eyebrow, grinned playfully, and returned to her half-eaten bowl of fruit. His head turned back, surveying the room she assumed, and finally his hand released her knee. She felt it crawling up the inside of her thigh. It was slow, strong and warm. Her excitement redoubled as the skin softened under his touch and for an agonizing minute she wondered if he'd ever reach her, she wanted his touch, she wanted to see his response when he realized there was nothing between him and her.

His hand was deep inside her thigh, almost touching the leather seat between her legs. His hand rose and then he paused as his finger began to touch her. Halting the upward movement he drew his finger out away from her thigh. As it brushed slowly over the edges of her exposed and moist lips, her mouth cracked and she took a long gasp, the touch sending a shiver of sensation throughout her body. When his finger reached the other side and touched her opposite thigh it rested lightly across her lips. He used the tip of his finger to massage the crease between her leg and lip on the far side, dragging the edge of his finger and hand over her spreading droplets of moisture as it went.

Obviously struggling to maintain control she flinched at the intimate touch and the stabs of delight coursed through her body. She felt herself heat at his touch, losing the presents of the room around them as his hand moved. Soon the hum of the den faded and her attention turned staring mindlessly at a piece of melon perched on her fork. Her body moved with his hand, trying to get more. The intense desire growing, longing for more. She looked over, her eyes refusing to focus in the now abrasive light. He sat staring out over the restaurant calm, controlled. He looked strong and large blocking the access to the rest of the room, protecting while tormenting her. Only the throbbing and bucking bulge between his legs gave away that anything other than brunch was going on.

He was extremely erect, his pants pulled tight against his shaft. She thought about what lie within, having it press against her, slip between her lips and penetrate her, stretching her and driving to the full depth of her. Her inevitable climax at his body inside her and feeling him, his hot liquid filling her with a forceful impact. As if feeling the thought, he turned to look into her eyes. His were cool blue, seductive, embracing. With an almost whisper she watched his lips move, the succulent pink skin and hot wetness beyond. "Are you enjoying breakfast?" It was almost more of a statement, as if he wasn't even anticipating a response.

She opened her mouth convinced an actual word could be formed through the fog of excitement and pleasure that enveloped her. As she drew in a breath and with great effort began to form her word, he adjusted slightly allowing his fingers to slip between her lips gently caressing the tiny folds within. She was hot and her abundant moisture made his fingers slick and smooth as they teased along between her legs. Her eyes rolled back in her head the words caught in her throat; the controlled exhale required for speech quickly turned to a gasp at the new sensation her body shivering uncontrollably.

With great effort, terrified any sound would release her pent up anguish resulting in an uncontrollable scream, she forced the tiniest of whines from her throat. Red, orange and yellow flashed before her closed eyes as he continued to play, forcefully pressing and mercilessly circling over her erect and sensitive nub; sliding his fingers between her and petting gently the electrified flesh within. Her excitement rose and bordering on violent lust, she wanted no more playing, her body ached for him, for release, for an end to the torment.

Her eyes peeled open, painfully, slowly. In time the fuzzy images became the room around her. She released her gasp of his leg not realizing that in her excitement she'd grabbed a handful and had been squeezing him hard in anguished delight. Her hand moved to her own leg and grasped his wrist firmly. As a final act of luscious torture he thrust his finger into her. Her eyes rolled back again, squeezing shut and her body arched, for a brief moment she pushed down on his wrist forcing him deeper and pressing his hand against her wet skin. He curled his finger within and sent, once again, convulsions of ecstasy through her body. She pulled his hand back, his dripping finger leaving a wet trail as he drug it intentionally through her lips and over her clit.

He turned to look at her, still cool and composed and found a look of desperation, animalistic excitement and unbridled passion staring back at him. Her eyes were fiery and he wondered for a moment if she was going to lean over and bite him as a lion does their mate. Almost forcing him out of the booth she strobe briskly to the elevator and turned before entering. Her eyes said she was going to hurt him, do terrible things to him. Her finger curled in a come here motion as the doors closed before her.

He rose and unfolded another couple bills from the small stack he kept in his front pocket. The waiter soon joined him at the table, "Everything alright sir?" He asked genuinely.

"More than so, my friend." He patted the waiter on the shoulder confident the money would more than cover the charges and made his way to catch the next elevator.