I love going for dinner with you. I love to see your face across the table from me and look into your eyes as we converse. I love seeing this other side of you, seeing more of the man you are and getting glimpses into your life. We share an appetizer and I order wine. The experience of dining with you is like a slower form of foreplay, one where we know what lies ahead and we are taking our time along the journey to our destination. After dinner we stop at the hotel bar for another drink, you loosening up and the sexual tension growing even stronger. We go back to the room and our clothes come off in an instant. We are all over each other, me on top feeling every inch of you inside of me. I orgasm quickly and you don’t let me rest before you are bringing me back up again for another explosion. When you finish we collapse in bed, out of breath and consumed by ecstasy. You say we should go back down to the bar where everyone could see that we had sex just by looking at me. God that was hot. I think about you saying that and it still makes me so crazy wet.