Chapter 2

Chapter 1

We arrived at Le Pavillon a few minutes early—around 7:45 pm—which allowed us time to take in the enormity of the space. Once the stairs opened up to this restaurant’s second-floor cavity within the industrial corporate tower, we marveled at the lush greenery, live trees, and foliage that create pathways through the dining room. The darkness outside made the restaurant’s interior feel magical and intimate. Although there were sections of tables traditionally arranged in rows, there were a few two-person round tables conveniently shielded on one side by carefully manicured olive trees and knee-high rows of shrubbery. A soaring spectacle of natural, wooden panels covered a concrete interior wall that provided privacy from another. As luck would have it, one of these was ours.

The dinner itself was everything you’d expect and more. We opted for the three-course tasting menu with a bottle of Syrah to unburden ourselves from decision-making and immerse ourselves in each other’s company. Halfway through your second glass and the main course, the tension in your shoulders seemed to melt away. It was the kind of night we desperately needed, where nothing else mattered but that moment. The relief must’ve been mutual because we gave each other this knowing look, your foot making light brushes against my shin under the table while you rimmed your wine glass with your index finger.

When we left the restaurant around 10, it felt like we were retracing the steps from our night in Chicago but in a new city. While the Midwest was slowly winding down by this time, New York’s reputation as the city that never sleeps was on full display. We felt obligated to holster the temptation to retreat to our hotel for a few hours to explore what the city had to offer. After scrolling for nightcap possibilities, we decided to check out The Campbell, which was right around the corner from the restaurant. Inside felt a bit like going back in time; what The Campbell calls “the office” is one of the bar’s three spaces. This gives off a real 1920s smoking room vibe. Quartzite accents, bold brass finishes, and custom wood adorn much of the bar surfaces while rich, hunter green mohair and leather furnishings complement the rest of the room. We found a couple of seats on a high-backed corner sectional that allowed us to sit next to each other facing a series of tables.

A young waiter came by shortly to take our drink orders, and I saw him steal glances at you while you looked over the menu. Every time you’d look back at him to ask a question, his eyes would quickly dart back to meet yours before drifting back to the way your dress clung to your tits. After lingering to write down our order, he tripped over the flooring on the way back to the bar.

“I think you made that guy’s night.”

You smirked, knowing full well the effect you were having on him—and probably every guy in the bar that night after you walked in—and when he came back to hand you your cocktail, I saw your hand linger on his for just a moment longer. He glanced in my direction with a panicked look on his face—if to suggest he wasn’t doing anything—before speed-walking back to the bar.

“That poor guy. He looks like he’s about to explode,” I said with a chuckle. Admittedly, the thought of you toying with other guys was a huge turn on. We’d talked about how both of us have had plenty of adventurous sex before we met (threesomes, foursomes, public sex, one night stands), and even broached the topic of bringing other people home with us. But it never escalated further than dirty talk in the moment. Still, it was clear we both had plenty of unexplored fantasies between us.

“He’ll survive,” you said matter-of-factly. “We should use the restroom before we head out.” I nodded and you got up while I flagged down the waiter for the check.

After settling the bill, I found myself daydreaming about you fucking the young waiter. I’d walk into our hotel room to find you bouncing on his cock. At first he panicked, but you grabbed his face and told him to focus as you ground your hips onto him. His hands slid up your body and grabbed onto your tits for dear life as you used him to cum. It wasn’t long before he followed. He flipped you onto your back before painting your tits with cum.

I realized it’d been some time since I’d seen you, so I swung by the restroom. I cracked the door open and called out your name to see if you were there. “I’m in here.” I pushed through the bathroom door and toward the last stall where I discovered you leaning against the far wall with your fingers gently running circles against your clit and your lacy black thong around your ankles. “It’s about time you got the hint.”

“I want you to fuck me in the bathroom before we go would’ve been more direct than what you said at the table.”

You smiled, bit your lip, and stepped out of your pantiesas I walked into the stall to enjoy the show. Your face was flush and you were so wet that it was running down your legs and dripping onto the floor. I dropped onto my knees in front of you and dragged my tongue up your left leg and up your inner thighs, tasting your sweetness. Your left hand cupped the back of my head, guiding me up towards your inviting slit. I started planting soft kisses around your pussy and your hips jutted forward, eager for release.

“Mmm…eat this pussy, baby,” you pleaded. I flattened my tongue against your sex and dragged it upward, sending shockwaves through your body as I closed my mouth around your clit. God you always taste so good.

“Mmmmhhhh…fuuuuuck!” you cried out, both of your hands now pressed against my head to keep me from any further teasing. The scene must’ve looked massively erotic; your position against the wall gave you leverage. You lifted your left leg over my shoulder to lock me in place before you started to fuck my face. Your moans were getting louder, any lingering discretion fading with your orgasm in sight until…

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!”

Our eyes immediately turned toward the voice. At that point, I’d realized I never shut the stall door and the waiter was standing in front of us—apologetic, but frozen enough that he couldn’t look away. The awkward silence was soon broken by a rage of lust. You grabbed him by the shirt into the stall, latched the door, forced him to his knees, and mounted his face.

I saw him make a feeble attempt at processing what the hell got him here, your slick pussy rocking against his face in the middle of his shift. I stood back to admire the view, our eyes locking in pure animalistic lust as you used your new toy in front of me, his cock visibly tenting his pants while he lapped at your sex.

“Cum on his face, baby,” I demanded, thinking back to the fantasy I’d played out in my head a few moments before.

“Ooohh fuuuck…” An orgasm ripped through you as soon as you heard my command, his hands blindly reaching for your tits through your dress. His attempt to heighten your pleasure was admirable, but his inexperience was distracting. You swatted his hands away as your body started to fold over while you rode the wave of your orgasm.

As soon as you recovered, you stepped over him without even an ounce of acknowledgment and pushed me against the opposite stall wall. He turned to look at us—his confused face a mess of cum and saliva—just as you pulled my cock out, dropped into a squat, and took me deep into your throat.

It was his turn to watch. He undid his belt and started to tug on his cock as his back hit the wall. You put on a show for him, slowly rocking your ass back and forth suggestively while you blew me. You shifted us sideways to give him a better view, making eye contact with him every time your tongue ran up and down my shaft and then back to me when you lifted my cock up to take one of my balls into your mouth. The show was too much for him to handle. He started to jackhammer his cock furiously before cumming all over the bathroom floor. I repositioned us so you were facing him, bent you over,and shoved my cock into you from behind. With the limited space in the stall, every thrust brought your face tantalizing close to his cock. He started to stroke it suggestively toward your mouth, desperate you’d wrap your lips around it and bring him to a second release.

“Please…” he said desperately under his breath. His head rolled back once you finally gave in, and his cock disappeared into your mouth. The sound of sex filled the bathroom up as we spit-roasted you—probably enough to prevent anyone else in earshot from coming in—and we were both fast approaching climax.

He came first, filling your mouth with his seed. “Come inside this pussy, daddy,” you begged after swallowing his load. I erupted into you, and you responded by slamming your body back into me to milk my cock for everything it was worth. When I pulled out, a steady stream of cum poured out of you, a collective pool of sex on the floor of the stall next to your soaked-through panties.

You twirled around to kiss me, our tongues dancing together as our heart rates reset. We left him in the stall without a word but with a new keepsake, brimming in the afterglow of spontaneous lust as the refreshing fall air hit us outside. It was still unclear how we went from a romantic dinner to a wild encounter in a bar bathroom, but I loved it…and so did that waiter who’d stumbled upon a night he’d never forget. I started to walk us towards the hotel when you paused and squeezed my hand insistently. “There’s one more thing I wanted to show you tonight.”   [To be continued…]