Surely anyone walking by our table would stare, revealing my hunger and passion. If I wasn’t so lost in the intense pleasure of you finger-fucking my cunt, I could almost laugh with the secret knowledge that my goose-bumps and hard nipples have little to do with the air conditioning filtering through the place. If anything, a chill is the last thing I currently feel at this moment. I squirm but you grip my shoulder to keep me in place. Our server approaches our table to take our drink order....I can barely breathe or catch my voice to respond. I don't want to make eye contact for fear he will know what is transpiring under the table. I feel hot and flustered; a small, thin line of sweat is travelling down the side of my face passing my temple near my ear. I reach for neatly folded, table napkin. I try to dab my forehead and upper lip softly and inconspicuously, but you, with such calmness, its unnerving, whisper in my ear to place the napkin back on the table. The server waits. I understood that Anita thought that I was standing in front of her. I tried to compare his piece to mine, but I couldn’t, because most of it was lodged in my wife's throat.The masked man was holding Anita’s head with both hands, as he was thrusting rapidly in and out of her mouth. I was a little confused, but I was not angry watching that scene.I decided to slip all the way into the room and the man looked at me, but I think he was not surprised when he saw I was using his same mask covering my face. I waved him to be quiet and scooted on my knees towards Anita’s back. I reached my hand under her gown and shoved a pair of my fingers between her already wet pussy lips. She jumped from surprise and tried to turn her head, but the other man held her head tighter and continued thrusting back and forth.I knew Ana was trying to get away from him and find out who was massaging her wet cunt.I leaned up and whispered in her ear: "Go on, honey, you have always liked a threesome”. She seemed to.
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