’ ‘I’ve not been in there before, though I’ve walked by it many times.’ It was a short trip to their stop. Simon held Marianne’s arm as they got off the bus. ‘What sort of thing do they do here?’ Marianne asked as they walked up to the building. It was red-brick, with green woodwork. A sign promoting an Italian ice-cream was displayed outside. ‘Italian stuff. Spaghetti, that kind’ve thing. It’s nice.’ Indeed it was. The restaurant was fairly new, and yet quite old, an established restaurant that had been taken over by a new young chef. Inside, white tablecloths, wineglasses and candles were set on each table along with the cutlery. Some soft, vaguely continental-sounding music was playing. The walls were decorated in white with a lot of mirrors hanging there, creating the illusion that the room was larger than it really was. It took a few minutes for Marianne to realise that there were only about a dozen tables in all. The only other people eating in there were a slightly older guy. But I didn't press the issue and just swayed with her to some inaudible music. I stroked her hair and lifted her chin and watched as silent tears streamed down her cheeks and began to soak her blouse. I took her by the hand and we went back to my bedroom, I tossed the shoulder holster rig onto my desk and gently laid her back on the bed. I knew that she would be tired after this catharsis. As she settled onto the mattress her breasts seperated ever so slightly and she twisted her perfectly shaped hips so that her artistically curving thighs bent toward me as I sat on the edge of the bed. I was casually rubbing her leg from her hip to the back of her thigh and she reached for my hand and pulled it to the side of her waist. It was agonizingly close to the underside of her right breast. I had stiffened and my cock now ran down my jeans leg to about the top third of my thigh.I stroked her hair and kissed her soft lips and smooth throat until she was almost asleep. I tried to.
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