Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322
From the moment he appeared at my table, a subtle electric current had formed between us. He had kind eyes, the color of warm caramel, framed by lashes that were entirely too long for a man, and a smile that crinkled the corners of his mouth just so. His black uniform, crisp and impeccable, did nothing to hide the athletic grace of his build. He wasn’t just bringing water; he was bringing heat.
“Good evening,” he’d said, his voice a low, smooth baritone. “Can I start you off with a drink?” “You certainly can,” I’d purred, letting my gaze linger a fraction too long on his lips. “And you are…?” He’d offered his name, that easy smile spreading. “Liam. And you?” “Stella.” I held his gaze, a silent challenge in my eyes. “It’s lovely to meet you, Liam.”
From the moment he appeared at my table, I wanted to fuck him
The evening unfolded in a series of perfectly timed appearances. Each time he approached, my pulse quickened. Ordering my drink, my starter, my main course – each interaction was a delicate dance of suggestion and shared glances. I asked about his day, about his favorite dish on the menu, anything to keep him at my table for a few extra moments. He was professional, courteous, but there was a flicker in his eyes, a slight deepening of his blush when I complimented his recommendations or leaned in just a little closer.
By the time the last forkful of my perfectly cooked salmon was gone, a different kind of hunger had settled deep within me. My mind kept replaying his smile, the way his hand had brushed mine as he set down my water glass earlier. The restaurant’s ambient music seemed to throb with my own heartbeat. Then he was there again, gliding to my table with the small leather booklet holding the bill in his hand. “Everything satisfactory, Stella?” he asked, his voice soft.
My eyes met his, and I felt a blush creep up my own neck. “More than satisfactory, Liam,” I murmured, my voice sounding a little husky. “Truly memorable.” As he extended the bill towards me, my hand dipped beneath the tablecloth, almost without conscious thought. My fingers found my clit The thrill of it all was instant, electric. He was so close I could smell a faint scent of his cologne – something clean and subtly masculine. His eyes were still on mine, a polite, waiting expression, as my thumb brushed the edge of the leather folder and my other hand rubbed my pussy under the table.
A quiet sigh escaped my lips, disguised as a satisfied breath. The danger, the sheer audacity of it, was addicting. My gaze held his as I took the bill, my slick, wet fingers tightening their rhythm under the table. His hand lingered for a moment, an almost imperceptible connection, before he withdrew it.
A wave of pure, unadulterated pleasure washed over me, sharp and sudden. My eyes fluttered shut for a millisecond, a shiver running through me. I composed myself, pushing a stray strand of hair behind my ear, my cheeks flushed. “I’ll be right back with the card machine,” he said, turning to leave. “No rush,” I managed, my voice a little breathless.
Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322
https://phonesexcandy.com/stella/