I (42F) had my FWB's (25M) cum in my mouth at a restaurant [FM]

I once mentioned to my FWB, Marcus, that I had trouble getting a table at a pretty upscale restaurant - the sort of place with a dress code and a menu without prices. Somehow, he secured a reservation. On the drive there, I told him how grateful I was, my hand resting on his trousers. His eyes gleamed with mischief as he suggested how I might express that gratitude more tangibly. As we drove, his hand found my knee, travelled upward, and settled with possessive ease. He didn't have to say anything else; I knew what he wanted.

With a smile, I reached over, slid my hand to his zipper, and coaxed it down with a practised flick. Marcus's cock was already hard and eager, the tip flushed and glistening. I had the feeling he had been thinking about this on his way to pick me up.

Unbuckling the seatbelt, I leaned over and I took him between my crimson-painted lips, matching my dress, moving with deliberate slowness to preserve my carefully applied lipstick. I closed my lips around his cock, stroking as I moved my tongue, tasting him. When we finally pulled into the parking lot, Marcus's breathing had grown ragged. He found a spot to park, and he had both hands on my head, guiding and encouraging me. His fingers tangled in my hair as he issued his command. I was not to swallow until given permission. His cum filled my mouth, warm and tangy. I raised my head slowly, making sure that none of it spilt from my mouth.

Marcus dabbed the corner of my lips with his handkerchief. I was relieved to see no smear of red. Then led me across the cobblestones toward the restaurant's golden glow. Though we could have entered directly, he steered me around the entire block, his hand possessively at the small of my back, my heels clicking nervously as I concentrated on keeping my expression neutral. I kept my mouth closed, lips soft and not pursed, breathing only through my nose, terrified that a stray cough or laugh would betray me. Each passerby seemed to stare, as if they could sense what I was concealing. There was no way anyone would know I had a load of cum in my mouth, but it felt as if everyone we passed by was looking at me knowingly.

At the restaurant, we were led through the tables to a window seat. Marcus pulled out my chair and waited until I was settled before sitting opposite. Marcus was perfectly at ease, reaching across the table to take my hand. He ordered a bottle of wine, and when the sommelier arrived, Marcus talked with him as if he knew what he was on about. I nodded and smiled at the appropriate moments; my lips pressed together in an imitation of decorum. Then the sommelier poured, and I had to decline with a shake of my head. Marcus grinned like an idiot before drawing the sommelier's attention back to him, telling him I was waiting for the good stuff.

Luckily for Marcus, there weren't any sharp implements within reach. Otherwise, he would have been stabbed. But there was something hot about this kind of public play. I am not an exhibitionist, but I could not deny the heat of excitement growing inside me.

Then the waiter arrived. He handed over our menus, eyes darting between Marcus and me, and waited for our orders. Marcus made his selections, and the waiter made a note, then turned to me, expectant.

Marcus squeezed my hand a little harder, just as the waiter looked directly into my eyes. He gave me a subtle nod, and softly, he whispered, "Go on."

I swallowed. It was audible, even to me. The waiter's eyes flicked to Marcus as he spoke, but I am sure he noticed my action.

I felt a rush of heat flood my cheeks as I placed my order, trying to keep my voice steady despite what had just transpired. The waiter nodded politely, his professional demeanour betraying nothing, but I couldn't shake the feeling that he knew exactly what had happened.

As the waiter left, Marcus grinned at me insolently. I shot Marcus a look that was half fury, half arousal and called him a bastard, but that made him smile even more.

The dinner was well worth it, enough to soothe any angry thoughts I had, and when we got back to my place, I showed Marcus how grateful I was to him.