Kaitlyn opened the passenger's side door and tossed the leash inside on the seat. "Wait here," she instructed. When she got in her side, she picked up the leash and gave a quick tug, pulling me toward the car.
Clumsily, I entered the passenger's side, guided by the leash. She smiled, watching the difficulty I was having being led by my cock in such a strange fashion.
As I sat in the car, my pants parted, revealing my just the head of my cock which still remained limp from the earlier shower experience.
Kaitlyn looked over at me and smiled, and with few quick tugs and a slight jiggling motion, the leash guided my cock and balls through the opening in my pants until I was completely exposed. I blushed looking down, seeing my cock and balls, leashed and cuffed protruding from the hole in my suit pants.
Kaitlyn smiled as she started the car. She looked in the mirror and backed up, and we were off.
After about ten minutes, we arrived at a small, but very elegant restaurant. As we pulled up, she released the snap on the leash. We were met by a valet. As she opened her door she looked over at me, "Would you like me to put that thing away for you?" she asked, smiling softly.
I blushed deeply. "Please," I said, unable to hide my embarrassment.
"You know that I don't want you touching it without permission," she said directly, as she tucked my cock back inside my pants, making more of a statement than a question.
I nodded, having difficulty looking directly at her.
"Good boy," she said, getting out of the car, taking the valet's hand.
For me, getting out of the car was more difficult. I had to keep my legs straight, in order to avoid exposing myself, making exiting the car diffcult. Slowly, I managed to extract myself without embarrassment.
When I had, I noticed Kaitlyn standing on the sidewalk, watching and enjoying my predicament greatly. When I approached her, she took my arm and leaned over, whispering into my ear "Don't worry, it is something you will get used to."
As we waited for our table, I decided to adjust my pants, twisting the waist to the side, moving the hole toward my leg, to prevent the risk of accidental exposure. I was very subtle, trying to escape notice.
Kaitlyn was looking toward the dining room, as I performed my adjustment. I took a long deep breath, feeling relieved.
"Did I say you could do that?" she asked, still looking away.
I swallowed with some difficulty.
"I just though . . ." She interrupted me before I could finish.
"Put them back," she said. Her tone short, crisp and more than a little annoyed.
I readjusted my pants, again feeling constantly at risk of exposure.
She shook her head and I imagined her rolling her eyes a bit.
Before either of us could say anything, we were informed our table was ready and direct to it.
Each step was carefully measured to insure that I didn't flop out for the world to see. Katlyn walked briskly, making it difficult to keep up with her and the waiter.
When we finally reached the table, he pulled her chair out and I sat myself.
As the waiter handed me a menu, she stopped him, "He won't be needing one of those," she said, and the waiter dutifully withdrew the menu from my hands before I had the chance to open it.
"Give us a few moments," she instructed.
As the water boy filled out glasses with water and ice, I became distracted by the sensation of Kaitlyn's foot, slowly moving along the inside of my leg. Slowly it inched higher.
"Move closer," she whispered. I drew my chair closer to the table, sitting on the edge.
Her stockinged foot found its way into the slot in my pants, coming to rest against the base of my cock and balls.
With the menu between us, I couldn't see the expression on her face as her foot slowly climbed the length of my cock, her silken toes expertly wiggling over my tender flesh. Instantly I grew in response to her touch, suddenly realizing that my cock has been guided out of my pants, sticking straight up.
The menu lowered.
"You had better not touch it," she said, looking very serious.
She leaned back a bit in her chair and a few seconds later, her other foot was on the other side of my cock, the two of them rubbing back and forth, gently trapping my hardness between them.
My mouth grew dry and I reached for the glass of water.
She smiled and gently shook her head. "Ask me," she hissed.
I swallowed a dry swallow.
"May I have a drink of water?" I said, looking down at the table. After a brief pause, I added, "Please?"
She chuckled softly. "One sip."
I raised the glass to my lips and drank in the ice cold water, feeling it soothe my dry mouth and throat.
Her feet continued to stroke my cock, making it grow harder and harder.
My breathing was starting to grow ragged as her toes squirmed over the most sensative parts of my cock.
I was shocked back to consciousness by the next thing out of her mouth.
"He'll have the lamb and I think I'll try the prawns," she told the waiter.
I was a wash of confusion, barely able to register what was happening as I felt an orgasm begin to rise inside me.
She could tell I was getting close and her feet started to move more rhythmically, her pace very slow, but constant, each movement of her silky feet bringing me closer and closer, my frustration growing more and more and my cock begining to strain against her touch.
"Do you like playing footsies, David?" she asked, giggling slightly.
All I could do was let out a mix between a squeal and moan as her foot slide up and her toes pressed against the underside of my cock, right below the head.
"Now, you aren't going to make a mess all over my feet, are you?" she whispered.
My moans had turned to very soft whimpers as her toes moved ever so slightly.
"I hope the service isn't slow tonight," she said whimsically, "for your sake, because I am going to keep doing this," her toe tickled the head of my cock again, causing me to straighten stiffly and do everything in my power to resist coming, "until the food gets here."
She sat silently, looking into my eyes, watching me, periodically letting her toes tickle the spots which she knew would send me over the edge. Each time, accompanied by a soft smile, which let me know that she knew exactly how difficult this was for me.
"Now what could be keeping that food?" she asked, her foot now sliding the length of my cock, slowly at first, then the pace quickening. Each stroke bringing me closer, her foot feeling slippery as it ran the length of my cock, along the underside. Her other foot now circling behind it, squeezing it softly into her silky toes. Slowly building, faster, her touch feather light.
I let out a squeal of desperation, as I felt like I wouldn't be able to hold back for another second. Just as I was about to come, the waiter sat a plate down in front of me.
"Your lamb, Sir."
Kaitlyn was smiling as she retracted her feet from my crotch.
"Such a good boy," she said softly. "Now go ahead and eat."
I watched her as she raised a prawn to her lips, gently placing them around it and seductlively sucking the end off of the fork. With a sinister grin, her lips curled back from the long, heavy prawn as she took a sharp, deliberate bite.
I managed to eat in relative peace, occassionally finding her foot in my lap, resting on my still hard cock, with an occassional comment.
As we were finishing up our meals, her foot rested on my still hard cock and she winked, "Just checking."
As our plates were cleared, Kaitlyn ordered coffee and dessert for herself.
Her feet again found my cock and began their ritual stroking.
"You like my feet, don't you David?"
I blushed and nodded, the stroking growing more intense.
"How much?" she prompted.
"Very much," I replied.
"Do you love them?"
I looked down at the table and nodded.
"Tell me," she said, the pace quickening.
"I love your feet," I said quietly, feeling embarrassed by my admission.
She smiled, "Louder."
My eyes widened.
"Louder," she said, insistantly.
"I love your feet," I said, now in a normal conversational tone.
"Come on, David, louder," she said, smiling sweetly, her feet wrapped around my cock, stroking it faster and faster.
I closed my eyes and said it louder "I love your feet."
"Again," she whispered.
"I love your feet," I said, losing any sense of my volume, just wanting to get some release.
I repeated it over and over, and each chorus was returned with faster, more intense stroking.
"God, I love them!" I cried out, on the very brink of orgasm.
Just before I erupted, she withdrew her feet and stood up and left the table for the women's room.
I opened my eyes and found everyone in the restaurant staring at me.
I blushed beet red, wanting to follow her, to leave the table. My instinct to stand up was blocked by the stark realization that I had a raging hard on and no way to conceal it.
My cock was sticking straight up out of my pants.
The waiter returned and told me I would have to keep it down or else something would have to be done.
"Your guest," he informed me, "left what I presume is your card for the bill. She will meet you at the car."
He handed me the bill and charge card receipt.
"And, Sir," she said, "She asked to not be kept waiting."