That morning, Jon was spooning me when he came up with the idea.”You know,” he said, his lips brushing against my ear, his voice thick and low, “I bet if you wore your butterfly vibrator into town, I could get you to come within an hour.”
“Oh, so that’s the game we’re playing today?” I smiled to myself – even if I lost the bet, I would still win. “OK, but I think I’m made of tougher stuff than you’d guess.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” he said, and chuckled. “I still have a few tricks up my sleeve, just so you’re warned.”
We both got out of bed and got dressed, and I added the extra item we’d talked about under my panties and skirt – the pretty purple vibrator with the black leather straps. I made sure the butterfly was positioned right over my clit, then handed the remote over to Jon. I was worried – had I made a bad decision? Jon had gotten me off a million and one times by now, and he always knew just how to touch me, and just what words to say in that deep, sexy drawl to push me over that delicious edge.
Jon suggested we go to my favorite cafe for lunch. It wasn’t just the food I liked there – there was a very sexy waitress who worked there, with lovely red hair, full lips, and ample curves she never seemed afraid to show off. Well, I hadn’t said he had to fight fair.
Today, she was wearing an ultra-short black miniskirt and a white blouse. Another look at her and I realized, oh God, you could see her nipples through the blouse when the light hit her just right. Just as I was noticing this, I felt the vibrator start up. You could never accuse Jon of being slow, and he had proved that yet again he knew exactly what buttons to push. The waitress came over to our table, and I tried my damnedest to remain in eye contact with her, but I’ve never been a very strong woman when it came to breasts. Between the vibrator going full speed against my pussy and her gorgeous tits practically shoved right in my face, I knew it was a losing battle – I could already feel my orgasm beginning to build.
“I, uh, have to use to bathroom,” I stuttered out, and I felt a flush come across my face. I quickly got up from the table, practically running into the women’s restroom. I must have forgotten to lock the door in my haste, because as I got closer and closer to coming, the door opened behind me, and who should come in but the waitress. She would have had to be very naive indeed to not know I was on the verge of orgasm – surprisingly, though, she didn’t look startled in the least. She watched with a smile as I tried to stifle the very obvious signs that I was just about to come.
“Your boyfriend sent me in here,” she said, a decidedly lecherous grin spreading across her lips. “He said you have a bet, and that he’s worried you’ll lie about what happens to you in here. He told me there’d be a very good tip in it for me if I came in here and made sure you don’t make up any stories about what happens to you in here. Because,” she said, stepping forward and lifting up her shirt, revealing two absolutely perfect breasts “he really, really, really wants to win,” and with the last word, she shoved her stiff, exquisite nipple into my wide open mouth.
When I got back to the table, our food had arrived, and Jon and I ate up – unsurprisingly, I was famished. Jon left a very generous tip, and we passed by the waitress as we left the restaurant. She smirked at me, then leaned towards me and whispered, “Thanks so much for coming. And please, do come again.”