Chapter 6: Dinner tease
She couldn't help but let her gaze linger on it for a moment, her mind already imagining the things she wanted to do to him.
John cleared his throat, pulling her attention back to his face. "Sarah?"
Sarah blinked, snapping back to reality. "Hmm?"
"I asked if you're ready to go." He gestured to the door with his free hand.
Sarah nodded, taking a deep breath.
She threaded her arm into his, like she was his date at a high school prom. Sarah's floor length, black, velvet gown clung to her curves, her breasts threatening to spill out of the deep V-neck. John's eyes lingered on her cleavage, his tongue darting out to wet his lips
Sarah stared at the moose knuckle tenting her husband's pants, her mouth watering at the sight. It was only barely hard, but the thought of what it was capable of made her pussy throb.
"Let's get this show on the road," she said, her voice laced with desire as she tugged him towards the door.
"The steakhouse is on the other side of the resort," John said, a smirk playing on his lips.
Sarah raised an eyebrow, "And?"
"And nothing," John chuckled, "Just letting you know."
Sarah rolled her eyes, "Well, let's not dawdle then."
John laughed, "Yes, ma'am."
They walked through the bustling lobby, Sarah's heels clicking on the marble floor. John's hand rested on the small of her back, guiding her through the crowd.
With each step, Sarah's cleavage threatened to spill out of her dress, drawing the eyes of every man in the lobby. John noticed, his grip on her waist tightening possessively.
"Fuck, Sarah," he growled low in her ear, "You're driving me crazy, walking around like that." Sarah just smirked, loving the effect she had on him. "Like what, John?" she teased, her voice sultry. "Like you're just begging for someone to fuck you," he snarled, his hand sliding down to grip her ass cheek possessively. Sarah gasped, her pussy clenching at his words.
She could feel the heat between her legs increasing, her thighs growing damp. She loved it when John talked dirty to her.
"I was begging for somebody to fuck me, John," she whispered, her voice low and sultry, "but your friend here seems to be taking a nap."
John's grip on her ass tightened, his fingers digging into her flesh. "Don't worry, he'll wake up soon enough," he growled, his voice laced with promise.
Sarah's breath hitched in her throat as they stepped out into the cool evening air. The resort grounds were beautifully landscaped, with paths illuminated by soft, twinkling lights. John led her down one of the paths, his hand never leaving her waist.
As they walked, Sarah couldn't help but notice every woman turning to stare at John, their eyes filled with lust and desire. She couldn't blame them; he looked fucking irresistible in that tuxedo.
Sarah felt a surge of pride and possessiveness, knowing that this gorgeous man was all hers.
John seemed to sense her thoughts, glancing down at her with a smirk. "You like that, don't you?" he murmured, his voice low and husky.
Sarah bit her lip, nodding. "Fuck yeah, I do," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.
John's smirk widened into a full-blown grin, his eyes flashing with hunger.
Everyone they walked by eye fucked both of them, their gazes lingering on Sarah's cleavage and John's muscular frame. Sarah could feel the heat between her legs growing with each step, her pussy throbbing with desire.
"I love feeling regal and sexy like this," Sarah said, her voice sultry as she glanced up at John. John looked down at her, his eyes filled with hunger. "You look like a fucking queen, Sarah," he growled, his hand slipping from her waist to her ass, giving it a possessive squeeze. Sarah gasped, her pussy clenching at his touch. "And you look like a king, John," she purred, her hand patting his suit jacked arm lightly.
Women all around bit their lower lip in envy as they watched Sarah and John walk by, the chemistry between them palpable and undeniable.
Sarah whispered, "if one of these sluts even tries to make a move on you,I swear to God, John, I will rip her fucking throat out."
John chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that sent shivers down Sarah's spine. "Don't worry, baby. I only have eyes for you."
"I don't care," Sarah hissed, her nails digging into his arm. "I'm serious, John. I'll go fucking apeshit if anyone tries to touch you."
John's cock twitched at her possessive display, and he couldn't help but grin. "I love it when you get all territorial, Sarah," he murmured, squeezing her ass cheek.
John wanted nothing more than to fuck her into the dirt, but his god-damned cock had other plans. It was hard enough to look good, but not hard enough to get the job done.
Sarah stared back at all the women who dared to look at her man, daring them to make a move. She was a fucking queen, and she'd be damned if anyone tried to take her king.
Some of the women returned her stare, their hands lazily playing with their drinks, their eyes glinting with challenge. Sarah didn't back down. She held their gaze, her eyes narrowing, her lips curling into a sneer. Fuck them, she thought. They could look all they wanted, but John was hers.
One particularly bold woman, with a plunging neckline and a smirk on her face, caught Sarah's eye. Sarah stopped walking, her gaze locked onto the woman's. The woman didn't back down, she held Sarah's gaze, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. Sarah could feel her blood boiling, her possessiveness over John surging like a fucking tidal wave.
The woman began playing with her necklace, her fingers trailing down her collarbone, her eyes never leaving Sarah's. She was trying to provoke her, and it was working.
The woman 's fingers continued their languid journey, tracing the curve of her breast, her nipple hardening under the thin fabric of her dress. Sarah's grip on John's arm tightened, her nails digging into his flesh. She could feel the heat between her legs growing, her pussy throbbing with jealousy and desire.
She smirked, her tongue darting out to wet her lips again. "He's a lucky man," she said, her voice loud enough for only Sarah to hear. Sarah's grip on John's arm tightened, her nails digging into his flesh. She wanted to rip this bitch's eyes out, but she maintained her composure. "Yes, he is," she said, her voice sweet as honey, but with a dangerous edge.
"But he's mine, so keep your fucking hands to yourself." Sarah's body was on fire, her pussy throbbing with jealousy.
John, meanwhile, was oblivious to the silent standoff happening around him.
The woman's fingers continued their languid journey, tracing the curve of her breast, her nipple hard under the thin fabric of her dress. "John," Sarah hissed, her voice low and dangerous, "That woman over there is fucking eye-fucking you." John glanced over, his eyes landing on the woman. He smirked, "So?"
"So?" Sarah repeated, her voice rising in pitch, "so I'm going to go and plunge my thumbs into her fucking eye sockets and scoop out her brains, that's what." John chuckled, pulling her in close, his hand still on her ass. "Calm down, tigress," he murmured, his lips brushing against her ear. Sarah's eyes flashed with anger and jealousy. "I'm not going to stand here and watch some slut try to take my man." Sarah's voice was low and dangerous, her eyes never leaving the woman's.
John's grip on her ass tightened, his other hand coming up to cup her chin, forcing her to look at him. "Sarah," he said, his voice firm, "I'm yours. You know that. Don't let her get to you."
Sarah's breath hitched as she looked into his blue eyes, seeing the truth of his words reflected back at her. She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down.
The woman smirked, thinking she had won. She stood up, her chair scraping loudly against the floor.
"if she doesn't stop staring at you, I swear to fucking God, John, I'm going to march over there and claw her fucking eyes out," Sarah hissed, her voice low and dangerous. John chuckled, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her in close.
He grabbed both sides of her head and pulled her forehead to forehead, giving her no option other than to stare in his eyes . "Sarah," he said, his voice low and commanding, "have I ever lied to you?" Sarah shook her head, her breath hitching. "No." "Exactly," John said, his thumbs brushing against her cheeks. "You're my queen, Sarah. My everything. And I'm yours. No one else's."
"but that slut- "
"Sarah," John warned, his voice firm, "Enough. She's nobody. You're my world." Sarah took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. She knew John was right, but she couldn't help the possessiveness she felt over him. John leaned in, his lips brushing against hers gently. "Now, I'm going to absolutely fuck up a steak. Are you going to join me or are you going to fight some random chick over me?" John asked, a smirk playing on his lips. She looked into his blue eyes, seeing the truth of his words reflected back at her.
"Fine," she huffed, "But if she so much as looks at you again, I swear to God, John, I will end her."
Sarah's voice was laced with possessiveness and jealousy, her eyes never leaving the woman's, who smirked back at her, thinking she had won. "Deal," he said, his hand still squeezing her ass cheek possessively. "Now, let's go eat. I'm fucking starving."
As they turned from the woman, she waved bye to Sarah , a smug smile on her face. Sarah's blood boiled, but before she could say anything, John pulled her towards the steakhouse, his hand still possessively on her ass.
"You can't let her get to you, Sarah," John said, his voice low as they walked.
Sarah snorted, "Easy for you to say. I can practically feel her eyes raping you from across the room."
"how many men have looked at your body tonight, Sarah?"
Sarah bit her lip, her eyes flashing with desire. "None."
"bullshit, Sarah," John growled. "I've seen at least a dozen guys checking you out."
"You're just saying that to make me feel better," she breathed, her eyes fluttering closed. John chuckled, his fingers inching closer to her center. "No, baby, I'm saying it because it's true. Your body is a fucking masterpiece, and every man here knows it," John murmured, his fingers brushing her velvet hips, sending shivers down her spine. Sarah bit her lip, her eyes fluttering closed as she leaned into his touch. She could feel the heat between her legs growing, her pussy throbbing with desire.
"but I know that if any man other than me tried to cop a feel , you'd cut off his fucking hand," John said, his voice low and husky, his hands copping a feel through her velvet dress.
Sarah nodded, her breath hitching. "Damn right I would," she breathed, her eyes fluttering closed as she leaned into his touch.
Sarah's jealousy slowly morphed into hunger her eyes opening as she said, "I'm going to absolutely fuck up a steak." She couldn't help but let her gaze linger on him for a moment, her mind already imagining the things she wanted to do to him.
As they entered the steakhouse, the hostess's eyes raked over John's body, lingering on his crotch. Sarah saw it and felt her hackles rise again.
John loved the new attention, feeding off of Sarah's jealous possessiveness. He smirked at the hostess, "Table for two, please. I have a reservation"
as he glanced at Sarah, "Under the name John."
The hostess, a young woman with a tight smile and an even tighter dress, looked up from her podium, her eyes immediately drawn to John's muscular frame cloaked in black.
Her gaze lingered on his crotch, and Sarah could see the lust in her eyes.
She stepped around the podium, her hips swaying, and took two menus from the shelf behind her. "Right this way, Mr. John," she purred, turning and leading them to a secluded booth in the far corner of the restaurant.
Sarah's hackles rose again, and she couldn't help but glare at the hostess's ass as they walked. John chuckled low in her ear.
"We should have ordered room service," Sarah muttered as they sat walked, her eyes flashing with possessiveness.
She couldn't stand the thought of other women looking at John, let alone serving him. John chuckled, his hand still possessively on her ass. "We're almost there, love. Just a little longer."
As they reached their table, the hostess pulled out John's chair, her hand lingering on John's shoulder.
Sarah's jaw clenched, her eyes narrowing as she watched the exchange. John smirked at her, knowing exactly what she was thinking.
"Can I get you two something to drink while you wait for your waiter?" the hostess asked, her voice sultry as she handed them their menus.
Sarah spoke up before John could answer, her voice laced with venom. "Yes, actually. A bottle of your finest red wine, please."
Sarah's eyes never left the hostess's, daring her to say another word. The hostess's smile faltered, but she recovered quickly. "Of course," she said, turning and walking away.
John chuckled, leaning back in his chair. "You're trouble, you know that?"
Sarah just smirked, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "Only when it comes to protecting what's mine."
"you really can't help it, can you?" John said, smirking at her, his eyes filled with hunger.
Sarah shook her head, her eyes never leaving his. "Not when it comes to you."
The bottle of wine soon arrived, but surprisingly the waitress loitered, her eyes lingering on John's crotch. Sarah's grip on her glass tightened, her knuckles turning white.
She couldn't stand the waitress's blatant ogling of her husband. She wanted to reach across the table and claw the woman's eyes out, but she maintained her composure, instead taking a deep, calming breath.
Her composure would soon evaporate, however, as the waitress began petting the back of John's neck, her fingers lingering on his skin.
"Can I get you two anything else?" the waitress asked, her voice laced with innuendo, her eyes never leaving John's crotch. She opened her mouth to snap at the woman, "you little-" But John's hand on her thigh stopped her, his fingers tightening possessively. "We're good for now, thank you," he said, his voice dismissive as he turned his attention back to Sarah. The waitress pursed her lips, clearly not used to being brushed off, but she walked away nonetheless.
Sarah's eyes flashed with anger, and she started to stand up, but John's hand on her thigh tightened, holding her in place.
"Sit down, Sarah," he growled, his voice low and commanding. "You're not going to start a fight in the middle of a restaurant."
Sarah's eyes narrowed, but she sat back down, her body vibrating with tension. John could see the possessiveness and jealousy in her eyes, and it only served to turn him on more.
"She was fucking pawing at you, John," Sarah hissed, her voice low.
"I should go over there and teach her some fucking manners." John's grip on her thigh tightened, his fingers digging into her flesh. "Sarah, no," he growled. "You're not going to cause a scene. Now, let's order our food and enjoy our dinner." Sarah's eyes flashed with anger, but she took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. She picked up her menu, her eyes scanning the options, but her mind was elsewhere.
A few moments passed before Sarah said, "I need to go to the bathroom . I'll be right back."
John nodded, a smirk playing on his lips. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."
Sarah rolled her eyes, standing up and smoothing out her dress. She walked away, her hips swaying, drawing the eyes of every man in the restaurant.
John knew damn well that she was going to find that waitress and give her a piece of her mind.
Sarah worked hard for the body she had, and she wasn't about to let some cheap, floozy waitress drool over her husband without consequence.
John watched as Sarah walked away, her hips swaying, her ass cheeks clenching with each step. He knew she was going to cause a scene, and he couldn't fucking wait.
He took a sip of his wine, his eyes never leaving her retreating form. He could feel his cock growing hard in his pants, the anticipation of what was to come making him ache with desire.
Sarah found the waitress in the bustling kitchen, her back turned as she filled glasses with ice.
Sarah had gone to the gym for years, her muscles honed and strong. She had never been one to shy away from a fight, and the thought of this little waitress thinking she could paw at her husband filled her with a rage she couldn't contain.
Every staff member in the kitchen seemed to freeze as Sarah stormed in, her heels clicking on the tile floor, her eyes locked onto the waitress's back.
The chefs couldn't wait for the car crash about to happen, and the waitstaff exchanged nervous glances, hoping to stay out of harm's way. They had seen Sarah's type before; beautiful, confident, and ready to rip someone's head off at the slightest provocation.
The waitress, on the other hand, was used to getting her way with her flirtatious charm and provocative outfits. She had no idea what was about to hit her.
Sarah stormed up behind the waitress, her heels clicking on the tile floor like a metronome counting down to a disaster. The waitress, sensing the sudden silence in the kitchen, turned around, a smirk on her face, expecting to find one of the chefs with a special guest.
Instead, she found Sarah, her eyes blazing with fury, her body taut with tension.
Sarah used all of that strength that she had honed in the gym to slam the waitress up against the stainless steel counter, the force of the impact making the glasses on the counter rattle.
"Listen here, you little slut," Sarah growled, her voice low and dangerous, "You keep your fucking hands off my husband, do you understand me?"
Sarah's grip on her shirt tightened, her knuckles turning white. "Answer me, you little bitch," she snarled.
The waitress tried to feign
innocence, despite the fear in her eyes. "I-I don't know what you're talking about," she stammered.
Sarah's grip tightened, her nails digging into the waitress's skin. "Don't play dumb with me. You were all over my husband."
Sarah's voice was low and dangerous, her eyes never leaving the waitress's. "You think you can just paw at him like he's a piece of meat? You little slut. Well let me tell you something, sweetheart. He's mine. Every fucking inch of him belongs to me."
The chefs and waitstaff were watching the scene unfold like a soap opera, their eyes wide with disbelief.
Sarah was a force to be reckoned with, and the waitress was clearly outmatched. Sarah was like a wild animal, her eyes blazing with possessiveness and jealousy. The waitress, realizing she was in over her head, tried to squirm out of Sarah's grip.
"you stared at my husband's cock, you little whore," Sarah snarled, her face inches from the waitress's.
The waitress's eyes widened in shock, realization dawning on her face. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean any harm," she stammered, her voice shaking.
Sarah's grip tightened, her eyes narrowing. "You didn't mean any harm? You think that makes it okay to drool over my fucking husband?"
The waitress shook her head, her eyes filling with tears. "No, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"
Sarah cut her off, her voice like thunder.
"Didn't mean to what? Disrespect me? Make a fool of me? Try to take what's mine?"
The waitress shook her head, tears streaming down her face. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-" Sarah's grip tightened, her eyes flashing with anger. "You didn't mean to what? Look at my husband like he's a piece of meat? Touch him like you have a right to?"
Sarah's voice was barely above a whisper, but the venom in it was unmistakable. Sarah released her grip, pushing the waitress away from her with a look of disgust. "Get out of my sight, you little tramp," she spat, turning on her heel and storming out of the kitchen. The waitstaff let out a collective sigh of relief as Sarah left, exchanging nervous glances with one another. They had never seen anything like that before, and they knew they would be talking about it for weeks to come.
Sarah announced to all the waitresses, "the next slut who paws at my husband is going to get her fucking hands broken, do you understand me?" Sarah's voice was loud and clear, her eyes narrowed, daring any of them to challenge her. They all nodded, their eyes wide with fear and respect.
Meanwhile, John was sitting at their table, a smirk on his face as he sipped his wine. He knew exactly what Sarah was doing, and he was loving every fucking minute of it. He loved seeing her passionate, possessive side, and he knew that when she came back to the table, he was going to have his hands full.
Sure enough, Sarah stormed back to the table, her eyes blazing with lust and anger. She sat down across from John, her breath coming in ragged gasps.
"You handled that well," he said, his voice laced with amusement.
His eyes were dark and hungry, his cock straining against his pants. Sarah had always loved his reaction to her possessiveness, and she could see that he was enjoying this.
"Fuck you, John," she snapped, though there was no heat behind her words. She was too turned on to be angry. "I won't have some tramp drooling over what's mine."
"That's my girl," he growled, his voice low and primal. He grabbed her hand under the table, his fingers lacing with hers.
To their surprise, a silver haired gentleman in an exquisite suit approached their table, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "I couldn't help but overhear your... passionate display earlier," he said, his voice smooth and cultured. "I must commend you on your... enthusiasm." Sarah's eyes flashed with embarrassment, but John just chuckled. "Thank you," he said, his thumb brushing against Sarah's knuckles. The man extended his hand to John. "I'm Alexander, the owner of this establishment. And you are?" John shook his hand firmly. "John. And this is my wife, Sarah." Alexander turned to Sarah, bowing slightly.
"And you, my dear, are a force to be reckoned with. I've never seen anyone put one of my staff in their place quite like that."
Sarah blushed, but her eyes sparkled with defiance. "She had it coming." Alexander chuckled, his eyes gleaming with appreciation.
"Indeed, she did. And I must say, it's refreshing to see such passion and fire in a woman." He paused, his gaze lingering on Sarah's cleavage. "And I must say, I've never seen a woman quite so... possessive of her husband."
John smirked, his hand still laced with Sarah's. "She's one of a kind." Alexander smiled, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "I can see that. And I must admit, it's quite... stimulating."
Sarah's eyes narrowed, her jealousy flaring up again. "Are you hitting on my husband?" she growled, her voice low and dangerous. Alexander chuckled, holding up his hands in surrender. "Not at all, my dear. I was merely admiring the passion between you two. It's rare to see such intensity these days," Alexander replied, his gaze shifting between John and Sarah. "I must say, it's quite... inspiring."
John furrowed his brow, "are you going somewhere with this , Alexander?" His tone was polite yet firm, his grip on Sarah's hand tightening. He could feel her tension, her jealousy still simmering beneath the surface. Alexander chuckled, "I apologize if I'm coming off as awkward, I'm merely attempting to apologize for my staff's behavior. I assure you, it won't happen again." He glanced at Sarah, staring at her cleavage again.
Sarah was about two tenths of a second away from leaping across the table and clawing his eyes out when John squeezed her hand, grounding her. "We appreciate that, Alexander," John said, his voice calm and collected, unlike the storm brewing inside Sarah.
Alexander felt the air towards his continued presence souring, so he took a step back, "have you ordered yet?" John shook his head, "not yet." "Well, I'll have the chef prepare something special for you two. On the house, of course, as an apology."
John nodded, "that's very generous of you, thank you."
Alexander gave a small bow, "it's the least I can do. Enjoy your evening, and please, do try to keep the... excitement to a minimum."
He winked at Sarah, who scowled at him. As Alexander walked away, Sarah turned to John, her eyes blazing with anger and lust.
As Alexander walked away, Sarah's jealousy boiled over. "I can't believe that fucking pervert! He was fucking undressing me with his eyes, John!"
"Baby, every man in this restaurant has been undressing you with their eyes since we walked in. But you know who's the only one who gets to touch that perfect little body of yours? Me. And only me," John growled, his voice low and possessive. He could see the fire in Sarah's eyes, the lust that was always just below the surface, ready to boil over.
"this steak better be fucking amazing, after everything that's happened tonight," Sarah snapped, her eyes still blazing with anger and lust.
"and your cock better be harder than diamond, John, because I've got a fucking inferno between my legs that needs to be put out," she growled, her voice low and husky. John chuckled, his eyes darkening with desire. "Oh, baby, I've got just the thing to put that fire out," he said, his hand sliding up her thigh under the table, his fingers brushing against her dress, "and I promise, this steak is going to be the best fucking thing you've ever tasted."
Sarah's breath hitched, her eyes fluttering closed as John's fingers teased her through her dress. She shifted in her seat, squeezing her thighs together to try and ease the ache. John chuckled, knowing exactly what he was doing to her. "You're so fucking hot when you're jealous, Sarah."
"if one bitch on the walk home looks at you wrong, I swear to god, John," Sarah hissed, her eyes flashing with anger and lust. "I know, baby, I know," John said, his voice low and soothing as he pulled her closer, his hand still teasing her through her dress.
"But you know what turns me on even more?" "What?" Sarah breathed, her eyes fluttering closed as John's fingers found her clit through the thin fabric of her dress.
"watching you not give a fuck about anyone else's opinions, just so fucking confident in what's yours," John growled, his voice low and primal as he continued to tease her. Sarah's breath hitched, her hips bucking slightly as she chased his touch. "Fuck, John," she moaned, her fingers gripping the edge of the table. John chuckled, his eyes gleaming with hunger. "Not here, baby. Not yet." He removed his hand, leaving Sarah panting and desperate. She glared at him, her eyes filled with lust and frustration.
"when we get back to the room I'm going to ride you till your fucking cock falls off," she growled, her voice low and dangerous. John smirked, his eyes blazing with desire. "I fucking dare you, baby. I can take whatever you've got."
The waitress arrived with their food, placing the plates down in front of them with a nervous smile. Sarah could see the fear in her eyes, and it made her smirk.
"You better make sure this is the best fucking steak I've ever had, or I'll come back there," Sarah said, her voice low and threatening.
The waitress nodded, her eyes wide. "Yes, ma'am. I've made sure it's perfect," the waitress stammered, backing away from the table.
Sarah tore into her steak like a woman possessed, moaning like she was already fucking John under the table. John watched her, his cock aching in his pants, as she devoured her meal, her eyes never leaving his.
"Fuck, this is good," she said, licking the juice off her fingers.
John's cock twitched at the sight, and he shifted in his seat, trying to relieve some of the pressure.
Sarah noticed, and a wicked grin spread across her face. She leaned back in her chair, her dress riding up her thighs, giving John a tantalizing view of her toned legs.
The poor waitress returned with sides of mashed potatoes and mac and cheese.
By this point, John's cock was at full mast, tenting his pants. Sarah could see it, and it made her hungry for something more than just the steak. She wanted to feel him inside her, stretching her, filling her up.
"Excuse me, miss," Sarah said, her voice sweet but firm. "Could you bring us a bottle of your finest champagne? And make sure it's chilled."
The waitress nodded, her eyes darting nervously between Sarah and John, who was openly staring at Sarah's tits, his eyes filled with hunger.
Sarah just smirked, enjoying the show she was putting on.
Once the waitress was out of earshot John whispered to Sarah, "let's see if the waitress learned her lesson or if she needs another reminder."
Sarah's eyes gleamed with mischief, "oh, you want to play with fire, don't you?"
John grinned, "baby, I'm already on fire for you."
John scooted his chair back, removing his prominent bulge from under the tablecloth. He waited for the waitress to return.
This poor, idiot waitress returned to the table.
Previously John's cock was merely a noticeable bulge, but now it was tenting his pants, the outline of his thick, long shaft evident and unmistakable. Sarah smirked, looking up at the waitress with a mischievous glint in her eyes.
The waitress, trying to maintain her composure, placed the bottle of champagne on the table, her eyes lingering on John's crotch.
Sarah's smirk grew wider. "See something you like?" she asked, her voice like silk.
The waitress felt a fire envelope her eyes, a blush rising on her cheeks. She couldn't help but steal another glance at John's crotch, her imagination running wild. John, ever the observant one, noticed the waitress's lingering gaze. He smirked, leaning back in his chair, allowing her a better view. Sarah's eyes flashed with jealousy, but John just winked at her, a silent promise of what was to come.
The waitress looked into Sarah's eyes, a challenge gleaming in her own. "Why, yes. I do see something I like," she said, her voice dripping with innuendo.
The waitress sized Sarah up, her eyes lingering on her cleavage, her hips, her legs. "I bet you do," she replied, her voice laced with challenge.
The waitress tried to decide wether she could take Sarah on in a fight.
She noticed Sarah's toned arms, her chiseled abs, and her confident stance. She was no match for Sarah in a physical altercation, but she wasn't about to back down from this challenge.
Sarah saw the waitress's hesitation and smirked. "You think you can handle me, little girl?" she taunted, her voice low and dangerous.
"You think you can take me on and win?"
The waitress, emboldened by the attention and the alcohol coursing through her veins, squared her shoulders. "I'm not afraid of you," she said, her voice steady.
Sarah's eyes gleamed with excitement. She loved a challenge, and this little waitress was about to get a lesson she wouldn't forget.
"Is that so?" Sarah asked, her voice like velvet. She stood up, her chair scraping loudly against the floor.
John watched, his eyes darkening with desire, as Sarah rounded the table and approached the waitress. The waitress held her ground, her chin lifting in defiance.
"touch him, I dare you," Sarah challenged, her voice low and dangerous.
The waitress's eyes flicked to John, then back to Sarah. She hesitated, her confidence wavering.
Sarah could see the doubt in her eyes, and it made her smirk. "That's what I thought," she said, her voice laced with triumph.
"You're all talk, little girl. You can't handle me, and you sure as hell can't handle my husband." John watched, his cock throbbing in his pants, as Sarah stepped closer to the waitress, towering over her. "You're just a little slut who thinks she can have whatever she wants. But you can't have him. He's mine." Sarah's voice was a low growl, her eyes blazing with possessiveness.The waitress's cheeks flushed with anger and embarrassment, but she couldn't bring herself to back down. She had started this, and she was determined to finish it.
"I'm not afraid of you," she repeated, her voice steadier this time.
Sarah chuckled, a low, dangerous sound. "You should be." She leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Because I'm going to fuck my husband so hard tonight, he won't even remember your name."
The waitress's eyes widened, her breath hitching in her throat. She could feel the heat radiating off Sarah's body, could see the desire burning in her eyes.
She knew it was a lost cause , but she couldn't back down now. She had to see this through.
Sarah's gaze flicked to John, then back to the waitress. "You want to know what it feels like to have him inside you, don't you? To feel that thick cock stretching you, filling you up?"
The waitress swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly dry. She could feel her panties growing damp, her nipples hardening against the fabric of her blouse.
Sarah smirked, knowing she had the upper hand. "You can't even imagine it, can you? How good it feels to have him inside you, how hard he can fuck you," Sarah growled, her voice low and husky. She could see the desire in the waitress's eyes, the hunger that she knew all too well.
She leaned in closer, her lips brushing against the waitress's ear. "He's going to fuck me so hard tonight, I'm going to scream his name until I'm hoarse. And there's not a fucking thing you can do about it."
Sarah could see the desire in her eyes, the longing. It made her smirk. "You want to know what it's like, don't you? To have him fuck you so hard, you can't walk straight the next day?" Sarah taunted, her voice like velvet, " To have him fuck you so hard, you can't walk straight the next day? To feel his big, thick cock stretching you, filling you up, making you scream his name?"
The waitress's breath hitched, her eyes widening, but she didn't back down. "I'm not afraid of you," she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper. She reached out, her fingers brushing against the waitress's cheek, trailing down to her neck, her collarbone.
The waitress shivered, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Sarah could see the desire in her eyes, the hunger that was mirroring her own.
"You want to know what it feels like, don't you?" Sarah whispered, her voice low and laced with promise. "To have him inside you, filling you up, making you come so hard you see stars?"
The waitress nodded, her eyes never leaving Sarah's. Sarah smirked, her fingers trailing down to the waitress's breast, cupping it through her blouse. The waitress gasped, her nipple hardening at Sarah's touch.
"touch him or get the fuck out," Sarah hissed, her voice like a whip.
The waitress hesitated, her eyes flicking to John, then back to Sarah. She saw the dangerous glint in Sarah's eyes, the possessiveness that was bordering on madness.
She made her choice.
She backed off, fuck you written all over her face as she spun on her heel and stormed away. Sarah turned back to John, her eyes blazing with lust and triumph.
"That was fucking hot, baby," John growled, his voice low and thick with desire. His cock was aching, straining against his pants, desperate for release. Sarah smirked, "you liked that, did you? You liked seeing me mark my territory?"
"I did, now sit and eat," John commanded, his voice firm yet gentle, as he helped Sarah back into her seat. He poured them both a glass of champagne, his eyes never leaving hers.
Sarah took a sip, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "But I've lost my appetite for food," she said, her voice low and sultry. She let her eyes roam over John's body, lingering on the bulge in his pants. "I've got a different hunger now."
John's cock twitched at her words, and he shifted in his seat, trying to relieve some of the pressure.
"well, you'll need the energy for what lies ahead," he said, his voice low and thick with desire, "so eat up, baby, you're gonna need it."
Sarah smirked, taking another bite of her steak, chewing slowly, her eyes never leaving John's.
Sarah truly was starving, she ate.her steak like a woman possessed, moaning with every bite, her eyes locked onto John's. He watched her, his cock throbbing in his pants, as she devoured her meal.
Once her steak was nothing but a memory, she moved to her mashed potatoes, scooping them up with her fingers, licking them clean. She moaned, her eyes locked onto his, a wicked grin spreading across her face. "Fuck, these are good," she said, her voice low and sultry.
Then she ate a spoonful of mac and cheese, her eyes fluttering closed as she moaned. "Oh god, this is heaven."
Sarah groaned, scooping up another spoonful of mac and cheese, her eyes locked onto John's. He watched her, his cock throbbing in his pants, as she savored each bite, her moans of pleasure filling the air.
"I can't wait to hear you moan like that when my cock is inside you," he growled, his voice low and primal. Sarah's eyes snapped open, her pupils dilating with desire.
She set the spoon down, her tongue darting out to lick her lips. "I can't wait either," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Sarah lifted the bottle of champagne to her lips, taking a long, slow sip, her eyes never leaving John's. She let the bubbles fizz on her tongue before swallowing, her eyes gleaming with mischief. John watched, his cock straining against his pants, as she took another sip, this time letting the liquid drip down her chin, onto her chest, soaking into the fabric of her dress.
She emptied the bottle, letting it fall to the floor with a loud clatter, her eyes never leaving his.
"I'm going to pee," Sarah said. Sarah stood up, swaying slightly from the alcohol, her legs trembling with anticipation. John watched as she walked away, his eyes glued to her swaying hips, her toned legs. He adjusted himself in his pants, trying to relieve some of the pressure.
Sarah locked the bathroom stall door behind her, taking a deep breath to steady herself. She turned, staring at her reflection in the mirror.
Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes bright with desire. She could see the outline of her nipples through her dress, hard and aching for John's touch. She reached up, cupping her breasts, squeezing them gently. She moaned, her eyes fluttering closed as she imagined John's hands on her, his mouth on her nipples. She opened her eyes, her gaze locking onto her reflection. She could see the hunger in her eyes, the desire that was bordering on madness. She reached down, hiking up her dress, revealing her bare pussy to herself in the mirror. She was soaking wet, her juices coating her thighs. She moaned, her fingers finding her clit, rubbing it in slow, lazy circles.
She could hear the bathroom door open, the sound of heels clicking on the tile floor. She heard a gasp, and she knew she wasn't alone. She didn't care. She kept her eyes on her reflection, watching as her fingers slid inside her, her hips bucking as she fucked herself in the mirror of the single stall.
The stranger beat on the doors, desperately looking for an open stall.
The stranger finally found an open stall, and the voice was familiar.
It was the waitress from earlier. The waitress talked to herself unaware of Sarah's presence, "I can't believe there isn't anywhere I can masturbate in peace. I need to cum so bad."
Sarah became quieter than a mouse, her breath catching in her throat, her ears tingling with anticipation. She could hear the waitress's breath coming in ragged gasps, her heels clicking on the tile floor as she paced back and forth.
Sarah heard the waitress lean against the partition, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps. The waitress's fingers were moving frantically, and Sarah could hear the wet sound of her pussy being fingered.
The waitress continued, "I can't believe I'm doing this. I've never done anything like this before. But fuck, I'm so horny. I can't stop thinking about that fucking couple out there. The way she touched me, the way he looked at me. Fuck, I need to cum."
Sarah heard a zipper being undone, the rustle of clothes being pushed aside. She could picture the waitress, her skirt hiked up, her panties pushed aside, her fingers buried deep inside her pussy.
Sarah's own fingers picked up speed, matching the waitress's rhythm. She could feel her orgasm building, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps. She bit her lip to keep from moaning, her eyes locked onto her reflection in the mirror.
The waitress's moans filled the bathroom, echoing off the tile walls. "Fuck, take that thick cock out, I could take it better than your wife —" She cut herself off, realizing she was talking to herself.
Sarah smirked, imagining the waitress's surprise if she knew she wasn't alone. She bit her lip harder, her fingers moving faster, her hips bucking in time with her hand. She could feel her orgasm building, her pussy clenching around her fingers. She was close, so fucking close.
She heard the waitress's breath hitch, her moans growing louder, more desperate. "Fuck, I'm close. I'm so fucking close," the waitress panted, her fingers moving frantically.
"god, split me in half with that massive cock," the waitress moaned, her voice echoing in the bathroom.
Sarah couldn't believe the waitress was touching herself to thoughts of John.
"I could serve you better than that fucking bitch," the waitress moaned, her voice echoing in the bathroom. Sarah's eyes narrowed, her jealousy flaring.
Luckily Sarah's fingers were buried to the hilt. She bit her lip to keep from screaming as her orgasm tore through her, her entire body convulsing with pleasure. The waitress's moans reached a fever pitch, and Sarah could hear her fingers moving frantically, her pussy dripping with need. "Fuck, fuck, fuck! I'm coming! I'm coming so fucking hard!" the waitress screamed, her voice echoing in the bathroom. Sarah could feel her own orgasm subsiding, her body going limp as she leaned against the stall door, panting.
She could hear the waitress in the neighboring stall, still moaning softly as she came down from her own high.
She could hear the waitress on the other side, also catching her breath, her fingers still buried deep inside her pussy.
Sarah smirked, her eyes gleaming with mischief. She couldn't let this opportunity go to waste. "Hey, little slut," Sarah called out, her voice low and dangerous. "You like fingering yourself to thoughts of my husband's cock, don't you?" The waitress gasped, her fingers freezing mid-motion. "W-what are you talking about?" she stammered, her voice shaking. Sarah chuckled, a low, sultry sound. "Don't play dumb, sweetheart. I heard you. I heard every fucking word. You're a little whore, aren't you? Getting off on the thought of my husband's cock. Well, I've got news for you, honey. You're not gonna get anywhere near it. But I will. I'm gonna ride that thick cock until I'm screaming his name. I'm gonna make him come so hard, he'll forget your name even existed."
The waitress was silent for a moment, then she flung her door open, storming out of the stall. Sarah followed her, a smirk on her face.
The waitress spun around, her eyes blazing with anger and humiliation. "You fucking bitch," she spat, her fists clenched at her sides.
Sarah just laughed, a low, sultry sound. "You're right, I am a bitch. But I'm his bitch. And you're nothing but a little slut who can't handle the truth."
The waitress lunged at Sarah, but she was ready. She sidestepped the waitress, grabbing her wrist and twisting it behind her back.
"You think you can take me on, little girl?" Sarah growled, her voice low and dangerous. She pushed the waitress up against the wall, her body pressing against hers, trapping her.
The waitress struggled, trying to free herself, but Sarah was too strong. She could feel the waitress's heart racing, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps. She could smell her arousal, the scent of her pussy filling the air.
The waitress slipped from her grasp, turning to face her, her eyes filled with hate and desire.
Sarah was surprised at the waitress's strength,
but she wasn't about to back down. She was ready for a fight, ready to claim her territory once and for all.
"Fine, you want to play rough?" "Let's play."
"I 'm not afraid of you," the waitress hissed, her eyes narrowed.
Sarah smirked, "Good. Because I'm going to fuck you up before I fuck my husband. You understand?"
The waitress lunged at Sarah again, but she was ready. She ducked just in time, the waitress's fist flying over her head. Sarah grabbed the waitress's arm, twisting it behind her back and pushing her up against the wall.
"Let's get one thing straight, little girl," Sarah growled into the waitress's ear. "I'm not here to play games. I'm here to fuck my husband so hard he won't even remember your name. And if you get in my way, I will destroy you."
The waitress struggled, trying to free herself, but Sarah's grip was iron.
She could feel the waitress's heart pounding against her back, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Sarah's own heart was racing, her pussy throbbing with desire. She couldn't wait any longer. She needed John, needed his cock inside her, filling her up. She released the waitress, pushing her roughly away. The waitress stumbled, catching herself on the sink. Sarah didn't wait for her to recover. She stormed out of the bathroom, making her way back to their table where John was waiting.
He looked up as she approached, his eyes darkening with desire as he took in her flushed cheeks and disheveled hair. He could smell the faint scent of pussy in the air, and it made his cock twitch.
"What happened, baby?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous. He knew something had gone down in the bathroom, and he was ready to find out what.
Sarah smirked, sitting down in her seat. "Just had a little chat with our waitress," she said, her voice casual.
She picked up her wine glass, taking a slow sip, her eyes locked onto John's.
John leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowing with suspicion. "And what exactly did you two chat about?"
John asked, his voice a low growl. He could see the hunger in Sarah's eyes, the desire that was mirroring his own. He knew she was up to something, and he was ready to find out what. Sarah smirked, setting her wine glass down on the table.
"Oh, you know, just girl talk," she said, her voice casual.
Sarah leaned in, her voice low and sultry. "She was in the bathroom, fingering herself to thoughts of your cock, John. She was saying how she could take it better than me, how she could serve you better."
"I'm sure you took that well," John said, his voice laced with sarcasm.
Sarah laughed, a low, sultry sound. "Oh, I did. I told her exactly who she was dealing with. I showed her that she couldn't touch what was mine."
John's cock twitched at her words, his desire building. He could picture Sarah, her eyes blazing with jealousy and possessiveness, claiming him as her own.
"And then I came back here, thinking about how much I wanted you," Sarah continued, her voice low and husky. She reached out, placing her hand on John's thigh, her fingers trailing up towards his cock.
"well, we have a problem. I'm harder than a fucking rock, and you are cat fighting anyone who even looks at me. I can't exactly stand up and walk out of here in this state," John said, his voice low and thick with desire.
He nodded towards his tented pants, his cock straining against the fabric, pushing every thread to its limit.
Sarah's eyes flicked down, her tongue darting out to lick her lips. She could see the outline of his cock, long and thick, pressing against his pants. She felt a pang of jealousy, wondering if the waitress had seen it too.
"well, either you stand up and show everyone what you're packing, or I tip the table over and fuck you right here," Sarah said, her voice low and sultry, her eyes gleaming with mischief. John's eyes widened, his cock twitching at her words. He looked around the restaurant, taking in the other diners, the waitstaff, the flickering candles. He knew Sarah was serious, knew she would do it in a heartbeat. "Fuck it," he growled, standing up abruptly. He didn't give a fuck who saw. He needed Sarah, needed to be inside her, needed to claim her as his own.
John scooted his chair back, standing up abruptly.
Every woman in the resort stared at John's massive bulge, and every man felt inadequate. His cock reached half-way down his thigh, and its thickness was mind-boggling.
Every woman who could see the outline of his massive cock through his pants was drooling, their panties soaked with desire, practically on the edge of an orgasm just from the sight of it.
John ordered Sarah to stand up, and she did, her heart pounding in her chest.
Every woman who sat on the edge of an orgasm came, their bodies spasming with pleasure at the sight of John's bulge. The men in the restaurant adjusted themselves in their chairs, feeling inadequate and aroused at the same time.
Some thirty women rode out their orgasms, unashamedly moaning and writhing in their seats.
John swooped down and picked Sarah up bridal style. All the women in the room gasped, their eyes wide with desire and envy. None of the other men in the room could pick up their woman like they were madeof nothing. Not like John, who carried Sarah like she weighed less than a feather. Every woman in the room wanted to be Sarah, wanted to feel John's strong arms around them, wanted to feel his massive cock inside them, stretching them, filling them up.
John strode out of the restaurant, Sarah in his arms, her heart pounding in her chest. She could feel the heat radiating off his body, could smell the faint scent of his cologne, could feel the hard muscles of his chest against her skin. She wanted him, needed him, more than she had ever needed anything in her life.
"I am going to make you shoot your load so hard, you're going to see stars, motherfucker," Sarah hissed into his ear, her voice low and dangerous.
John growled, carrying her through the bustling lobby, "I'm going to fuck you so hard, you're going to feel me in your throat, baby."
Sarah upped the ante, "I'm going to make you cum so hard, you're going to fill me up so much, it's going to drip out of me for days."
John matched her fire, "I'm going to split you in half. You won't be able to tell up from down, left from right. You'll be a panting, sweaty mess, begging for more."
Ever competitive, Sarah said, "I'm going to make you cum over and over, but I won't stop. You'll say you're sensitive or tender, but I won't care. I'll keep fucking you, milking you, making you fill me up again and again."
John practically broke into a sprint, his cock throbbing painfully in his pants as Sarah's filthy words filled his ears.
He could feel the eyes of every person in the lobby on them, but he didn't give a fuck. All he cared about was getting Sarah back to their room and fucking her senseless.
He could feel her heart pounding against his chest, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps. She was wound up, ready to explode, and he was going to be the one to light the fuse.
John kicked open the door to their suite, carrying Sarah inside. He didn't bother with the lights, didn't care about anything but getting her naked and underneath him. He tossed her onto the bed, watching as she bounced, her blonde hair fanning out around her.