The moment the waitress walked away Diane’s hand moved up to grab the growing bulge in Michael’s slacks. “You know it was a little cruel to leave me on edge like that,” she whispered. It wasn’t a question, it was a statement of fact. “Maybe I should do the same to you, bring you right to the edge and stop.”
“You could do that,” said Michael as his hand slid back under the hem of her skirt, “but I was not planning on leaving you waiting for long.” His fingers reached her bare skin once more and Diane’s grip tightened on his straining cock.