Moving in to one another, they act at conversation, absentmindedly toying with cups and spoons, their fingers occasionally grazing, knees brushing, legs twining beneath the small table. Each new touch, each lustful glance charges the air around them, charges their bodies with a current that sets every libidinous cell alight.

He inches closer under the pretext of straightening her collar, his strong hand progressively sliding from her satin-covered shoulder down her back to the small. Exhaling a low whimper, she answers his touch with her own, one slender hand placed lightly on his chest, one finger finding the teasing gap between the shirt buttons. As this lone digit snakes its way, skimming muscular flesh and soft skin, her other hand subtly travels under the table, resting on his thigh. Desiring eyes instantly locked, her fingers begin to dance along tensing muscles toward the painfully thudding bulge straining his trousers. She maps his terrain, taking in his thickness, his hardness, his pulsation, her palm now firmly running and stroking over his entire length as he catches his breath.

Snugly tucking herself into the nook of his arm, she leans in to whisper the thoughts flooding her mind, overwhelming her body, murmuring hotly her need to be taken completely by him, her need to be fucked hard and fast, here and now, on the cool metal surface for all to see.