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Nasir fiddles with his seatbelt neurotically and I have not seen his leg stop bouncing since we left our apartment. I smile to myself when I give thought to the cause of his restlessness. It makes my cock throb within the confines of my trousers and I reach down with one hand to adjust myself.
“Nuh uh,” Nasir scolds upon seeing the gesture. “If I’m going to be in hell all night, you’re going along for the ride.”
I smile. “You’re not in any real pain, are you?”
“Wouldn’t you be?” he shoots back, squirming slightly in the passenger seat.
“You aren’t in pain,” I challenge, reaching to stroke the inside of his left thigh.
I notice the increase of his breathing. “Watch-watch the road.”
“I got it.” My hand continues up the inside of his leg but stops short of what I’m craving from him. But he’s having none of that; he grabs my wrist and presses my hand against his swollen cock.
My left-handed grip on the steering wheel doubles and I focus extra attention on keeping us on the road as I feel him fill my palm. He’s completely shameless in letting me know exactly how he wants to be pleased, and for that for a moment, I forget my plans for tonight.
My senses return when I hear him fumble with the button and zipper of his pants. “No!” I snatch my arm back and try to block out how wonderful he felt in my hand. “We’re almost there. Aren’t you hungry?” Now I’m trying to distract him?
“Oh, god!” Nasir presses the heel of his hand to his erection. “At least turn it down.”
His request brings an unwanted smile to my lips; unwanted because I know how pissed it would make him if he saw it. “It’s on the lowest setting.”
“I don’t trust you. Let me see.”
I cover my right front pocket. “You’d turn it off.”
“Yeah, that’s the idea.” But he makes no move to take it from me, probably because he doesn’t want us to crash. Wise man.
“You don’t know how hot it makes me, first, putting it inside you. Then knowing what you’re going through all during dinner. That the second we get home you’re going to be so crazy, out of your mind with need that I’ll fill you right there in the living room.”
Nasir laughs raggedly. “You just know how everything’s going to play out.”
“Pretty much,” I say as I pull into Spiaggia’s parking lot. Nasir doesn’t follow me out of the car so I go around to his side to see what’s going on. Before I can touch the door handle, he raises a finger in a one second gesture to the window. For some reason I can’t fathom, he hates for me to open doors for him.
I count to fifteen before he gets out of his own accord. I can’t get a read on his emotions. He looks like he’s about ready to come in his pants, but also like he might start dry-heaving. I take the small remote from my pocket and, keeping a firm grip on it lest he try to wrestle it away, show it to him.
“See? Lowest setting.” It goes back into my pocket and I rub his shoulders, leaning down to stare into his eyes. “Look, we don’t have to do this. We don’t need to sit through dinner if you don’t want. Hell, I’ll turn it off, we can pick up fast food and eat at home in front of the TV.”
As he stares at me, I see a fire light his gaze. He’s thinking about our encounter before leaving the apartment, me stretching and filling him with the vibrating butt plug, of him torturing me with an unfinished blowjob.
His hair is neatly pulled back in a half-ponytail but I could see it in my mind’s eye, rumpled from my hands, like he’d just rolled out of bed. I wanted to pull out the tie binding it and have it wild and free around his face as he went down on me. If he asked me to turn off the plug, I would. Then I’d break the sound barrier driving us home so I could remove it and fill him with me instead.
I’m really getting into the idea, which he probably reads in my expression. The plug is nearly as much torture for me as it is for him, and Nasir’s going to use it to his full advantage.
He steps into my arms and tilts up his face to mine. I close the distance between our lips and kiss him tenderly.
“We eat here. Let’s get inside before I change my mind. And I should tell you now, that mentioning fast food makes me want to punch you in the face. I’m seriously trying to cut that crap out of my diet.”
I grin and follow him into Spiaggia’s, grateful for my moment of foresight last week when I made the reservation. A perky, petite waitress hands us menus and me a wine list. It all looks like Greek to me. I’m a beer-drinking kind of guy. Nasir notes my hesitation and holds his hand out for the list. I relinquish it at once and he chooses something with a long, French-sounding name. Once we are alone I ask, “How’re you doing?”
A charming flush appears on his face, like he’d forgotten about it until I’d brought it up again. He clears his throat. “Fine.”
“Hey! We just behave like normal. We’re ordinary! So regular, we’re boring.”
Nasir laughs even as he discretely adjusts his erection in his loose pants. “Easy for you to say. I feel like everyone can tell, just by looking at my face.”
“They can’t.” But I can already tell it was a lie. My eyes take a quick scan of the room and land on an striking, dark-skinned man near the bar. He takes a sip out of a hurricane glass but his eyes are fixed with scary intensity on Nasir.
Nasir was right; it was like the guy could tell, either that or he’s just extremely interested in my boyfriend. Maybe both.
“But so what if they could? You don’t know anyone here.”
“Ha,” Nasir huffs. “Your brother’s motto: ‘What do I care? I’ll never see these people again?’”
“I’ve always thought he was a great thinker.”
“Gives him an excuse to do some really dumb shit.”
I laugh again and glance out of the corner of my eye at Nasir’s admirer. Still there. “Well, tonight I’d like to take a page out of Duro’s book. You could do with a walk on the wild and crazy side, with a little less ‘don’t make a scene at all costs!’”
“I’m afraid to ask what you’ve got in-” His words end in a sharp inhale of breath when I increase the speed on his vibrator. “Oh my god,” he moans.
“The waitress is coming. Be cool.” I know he doesn’t appreciate my attempt at humor because his hand clamps down painfully on my knee beneath the table.
“Here are you drinks. Have you had a chance to look over our menu?”
Since I don’t want her to have to come back any more times than is necessary, I choose the first dinner option I see.
She turns to Nasir. “And you sir?”
“Two.” He holds up a pair of shaking fingers and squeezes harder on my leg with his other hand.
“Coming right up. And my name is Rebecca, if you need anything don’t hesitate to ask.”
“Jesus Christ, death-grip,” I whisper as she walks away. “I’m going to have a bruise!” I pry his fingers away from my knee with difficulty.
“Yeah, ask me how sorry I don’t feel for you.” Nasir’s voice is a strangled whisper. He closes his eyes and squirms slightly in the chair. With his head tilted back, his bottom lip between his teeth, and his chest heaving like that, it would be easy for me to forget where we were, even though this had been my idea.
I watch him surrender to the toy, not wantonly, but enough to make me want to reach out and cup him.
The waitress is coming back with our food. I hadn’t even realized so much time had passed. Since I didn’t want to get either of us banned from this restaurant, I turn the vibrator down again and Nasir tries to compose himself as she places matching dishes before us.
Since I kind of arbitrarily chose a main course, I couldn’t really remember what I’d ordered. It was a kind of pasta with an odd citrus-y sauce on top. Nasir and I lapse into comfortable silence as we eat, but after about 10 minutes, I feel his hand rest casually on my knee.
Not in the painful, vice-like grip as before, but as though my knee was a totally normal, comfortable place for him to rest his hand. Then, with equal nonchalance, he shifts it slightly so his palm lies on the inside of my leg.
I try to catch his eye, but outwardly, Nasir is ardently eating his meal, focusing entirely on his plate. After a couple minutes, I’m able to ignore him – until his hand begins an agonizingly slow ascent up the inside of my leg.
My cock grows in direct correlation to how close he comes to cupping me. My breath catches and he finally looks up at me, heated desire wells deep in the pools of his eyes and I feel a craving in me rising up to rival his. I’m unable to move as his fingertips stutter over my bulge, hardening almost past endurance for him.
Nasir’s eyes flicker down to watch his progress and I’m about to summon the strength to stop him so we can continue this at home, in the car, hell, I’d take him in the men’s room at this point. Then, quick as lightening, he withdraws his arm and his hand dives into my right-front pocket.
It takes all of my self-control not to jump up or cry out in shock at the sudden gesture. I do grapple briefly for his wrist, but before my fingers could clamp around it, he slips his arm away from my grasp.
“You little bastard!” I hiss. My hand unnecessarily pats my now empty pocket, confirming that which I already knew: he took possession of the remote.
“I held out for as long as I could, but I need a break.”
“You could have asked!”
Nasir snorts. “Yeah right, you wouldn’t have turned it off. You’d have used it to torture me a bit more. Fess up.”
I summon a feigned wounded expression. “You don’t trust me?”
“Without question,” he answers at once, grinning smugly at me. “See, I know this, because it’s exactly what I’d have done if I were in your shoes.”
Dimly, I register the return of the waitress. Still staring at Nasir, I push my almost empty plate towards her. Nasir places the remote discretely in his pants pocket furthest from me and hands the waitress his plate as well.
“How was your meal, gentlemen?”
“Excellent,” Nasir beams at her. “I think we’re ready for our check now.”
“I can’t tempt you with any dessert, can I?”
“No, thank you. We’ve got dessert waiting for us at home.”