nobody will know
nobody will know - Dianna/Darren RPF; Adult
She grunts when he plops down on her lap, wobbling a little before steadying herself.
"God, you're heavy," she mutters, poking him in the back.
He smirks and presses against her, the playful motion an excuse to let his arm brush against her breasts.
He glances down, his smirk widening at the perfect view he has down the front of her dress, seeing the perfect curve of her breast, and just the barest hint of nipple when she stretches her arm forward for her glass of water.
His hand drops to her thigh, sweeping his thumb back and forth over the fabric of her dress. He wishes they could've arrived together, could've sat beside each other during the show, and he seized the opportunity to be near her now.
The noise level is intense, the space packed with bodies, and a thought begins to formulate in his head.
He grins a little, and bends his head back so his mouth is close to her ear. "So what've you got on under this dress?"
She looks at him sharply, though the corner of her mouth rises. "Maybe you'll find out later."
"Can I find out now?"
Her lips part slightly, a small gasp slipping out, and god, he wants to kiss her so badly right now.
"Here?" she breathes, just loud enough for him to hear.
"Nobody will know. Look at this place; it's packed."
He teasingly strokes her thigh with his fingers, and she shifts underneath him, her eyes scanning the crowd around them.
It's true that the place is packed; nobody's even paying attention to them. Her heart thuds at the thought of it, the thrill of doing something like this in public, and she looks back at him.
His expression is hopeful, and it does something to her heart that he seems to never want anything more than to please her.
She gives a small nod, her lips curving, and he grins.
They shift their positions, pulling their chair closer to the table, and when she sits down again, her skirt is a little looser, pulled up a little higher. He settles on her lap again, carefully balancing his weight, and then drops his hand to her leg, easing her skirt up higher.
His fingers are light on her inner thigh, and her legs spread a little wider as his hand inches its way up.
She sighs quietly, her fingers clutching at his jacket, and then gasps when he presses against her panties. She's so wet already, incredibly turned on by him and this situation, and she shifts a little, spreading her thighs wider still.
"What color are they?" he whispers, his lips brushing against her ear.
He traces her folds through the wet material, and she takes a shaky breath before she replies. "Bl - black."
He slips his hand down the front of her panties, and sweeps his fingers over her skin, loving how hot and wet she is.
"Lacy?"
She nods, her eyelashes fluttering as he continues to tease her, stroking but not moving where she wants him.
"And so tiny too, I bet."
She nods again, and then whimpers when he pushes one finger inside of her, and then another, mimicking the motion of him, long and hard inside of her, that they both know will come later.
She shifts, needing him to press deeper, and he does, able to curl his fingers just slightly. She gasps sharply, her hips bucking reflexively, and he whispers for her to be still, to be quiet.
It may be the hardest thing she's ever had to do.
He slides his fingers up to her clit, rubbing in small circles, pressing hard like he knows she needs.
Her mouth falls open, her hand gripping his jacket tighter, and then her head tips forward, resting against his back as her orgasm hits her. He can feel the tremors of her body, the way her thighs come together a little, and smirks, continuing to touch her until her body calms.
He pulls his hand from her panties, his fingers leaving a hint of wetness on her inner thigh as he slips his hand from her skirt.
He looks at her as she takes a deep breath, noticing how red and swollen her lips are from biting them to keep quiet. Her fingers still clutch at his jacket, and he smiles a little, resisting the urge to slide his fingers into his mouth.
He has to settle for one of the napkins on the table, trying to be as inconspicuous as he can.
They shift position again, this time to get more comfortable, and he tips his head to rest it against hers.
"How long do you think until we can leave?" she asks quietly.
He grins. "We only just got here."
His hands rest in his lap, and she brings up her free hand to rest on top of one of his. She takes the base of his index finger between the tips of her thumb and forefinger, and he watches as she strokes slowly upward.
He swallows hard, and then glances at her face, taking in her teasing smirk.
He groans quietly and glances away, desperately hoping they can leave soon.
She grunts when he plops down on her lap, wobbling a little before steadying herself.
"God, you're heavy," she mutters, poking him in the back.
He smirks and presses against her, the playful motion an excuse to let his arm brush against her breasts.
He glances down, his smirk widening at the perfect view he has down the front of her dress, seeing the perfect curve of her breast, and just the barest hint of nipple when she stretches her arm forward for her glass of water.
His hand drops to her thigh, sweeping his thumb back and forth over the fabric of her dress. He wishes they could've arrived together, could've sat beside each other during the show, and he seized the opportunity to be near her now.
The noise level is intense, the space packed with bodies, and a thought begins to formulate in his head.
He grins a little, and bends his head back so his mouth is close to her ear. "So what've you got on under this dress?"
She looks at him sharply, though the corner of her mouth rises. "Maybe you'll find out later."
"Can I find out now?"
Her lips part slightly, a small gasp slipping out, and god, he wants to kiss her so badly right now.
"Here?" she breathes, just loud enough for him to hear.
"Nobody will know. Look at this place; it's packed."
He teasingly strokes her thigh with his fingers, and she shifts underneath him, her eyes scanning the crowd around them.
It's true that the place is packed; nobody's even paying attention to them. Her heart thuds at the thought of it, the thrill of doing something like this in public, and she looks back at him.
His expression is hopeful, and it does something to her heart that he seems to never want anything more than to please her.
She gives a small nod, her lips curving, and he grins.
They shift their positions, pulling their chair closer to the table, and when she sits down again, her skirt is a little looser, pulled up a little higher. He settles on her lap again, carefully balancing his weight, and then drops his hand to her leg, easing her skirt up higher.
His fingers are light on her inner thigh, and her legs spread a little wider as his hand inches its way up.
She sighs quietly, her fingers clutching at his jacket, and then gasps when he presses against her panties. She's so wet already, incredibly turned on by him and this situation, and she shifts a little, spreading her thighs wider still.
"What color are they?" he whispers, his lips brushing against her ear.
He traces her folds through the wet material, and she takes a shaky breath before she replies. "Bl - black."
He slips his hand down the front of her panties, and sweeps his fingers over her skin, loving how hot and wet she is.
"Lacy?"
She nods, her eyelashes fluttering as he continues to tease her, stroking but not moving where she wants him.
"And so tiny too, I bet."
She nods again, and then whimpers when he pushes one finger inside of her, and then another, mimicking the motion of him, long and hard inside of her, that they both know will come later.
She shifts, needing him to press deeper, and he does, able to curl his fingers just slightly. She gasps sharply, her hips bucking reflexively, and he whispers for her to be still, to be quiet.
It may be the hardest thing she's ever had to do.
He slides his fingers up to her clit, rubbing in small circles, pressing hard like he knows she needs.
Her mouth falls open, her hand gripping his jacket tighter, and then her head tips forward, resting against his back as her orgasm hits her. He can feel the tremors of her body, the way her thighs come together a little, and smirks, continuing to touch her until her body calms.
He pulls his hand from her panties, his fingers leaving a hint of wetness on her inner thigh as he slips his hand from her skirt.
He looks at her as she takes a deep breath, noticing how red and swollen her lips are from biting them to keep quiet. Her fingers still clutch at his jacket, and he smiles a little, resisting the urge to slide his fingers into his mouth.
He has to settle for one of the napkins on the table, trying to be as inconspicuous as he can.
They shift position again, this time to get more comfortable, and he tips his head to rest it against hers.
"How long do you think until we can leave?" she asks quietly.
He grins. "We only just got here."
His hands rest in his lap, and she brings up her free hand to rest on top of one of his. She takes the base of his index finger between the tips of her thumb and forefinger, and he watches as she strokes slowly upward.
He swallows hard, and then glances at her face, taking in her teasing smirk.
He groans quietly and glances away, desperately hoping they can leave soon.