**Public Tease**

I never thought fucking in public would be this hot, but the way my girlfriend was teasing me under the table had me throbbing in my jeans before our coffees even arrived. We were sitting at a small, round table in the corner of the café, hidden enough from the main crowd but still exposed enough for the risk to make my pulse race.

She’d been playing footsie with me since we sat down, her bare toes tracing up my calf, then higher, nudging at my crotch. I shifted, trying to hide the growing bulge in my pants, but she smirked and pressed harder, her heel rubbing right over my dick.

“You’re gonna get us kicked out,” I muttered, but my voice was already rough.

She just licked her lips, eyes dark. “Then we’ll have to be quiet.”

Her hand slid under the table, fingers slipping between my thighs. I spread them instinctively, letting her palm cup my cock through the denim. She squeezed, and I hissed, gripping the table edge as she rubbed slow, torturous circles.

“Fuck, baby—”

“Shh,” she whispered, leaning forward like we were just having an intimate chat. Her other hand lifted her coffee, sipping like nothing was happening. Meanwhile, her fingers popped the button of my jeans, tugging the zipper down just enough to snake her hand inside.

I was already leaking when she wrapped her fingers around my shaft, squeezing the base before stroking up. My breath hitched, my hips jerking forward without thinking. The café was full of people—baristas, customers, anyone could look over—but no one noticed the quiet, desperate squirm of my body as she worked me under the table.

Her thumb swiped over my slit, smearing precum, then she pulled her hand back just enough to tease. I clenched my teeth, watching her. She bit her lip like she was thinking, then suddenly dropped her napkin.

“Oh no,” she said, too sweetly, and bent down to grab it.

I knew what she was doing before her head even disappeared under the table. A second later, I felt her breath against my cock, still half-trapped in my jeans. Then her lips pressed against the head—hot, wet—and I nearly came right there.

She didn’t take me in her mouth, not yet. Just licked, slow and teasing, her tongue flicking over my slit before dragging down the shaft. I groaned, fingers digging into the table, my hips twitching.

“Jesus fuck,” I breathed.

Her response was to wrap her lips around me, sinking down until my cock hit the back of her throat. I swore again, thighs shaking as she sucked me off right there in the middle of the café, her head bobbing under the table like nothing was wrong.

I wanted to grab her hair, fuck her mouth deeper, but I couldn’t—somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew we’d get caught if I moved too much. So I sat there, sweating, trying not to moan as she worked me relentlessly, her tongue swirling, her lips tight.

Then, without warning, she stopped, pulling back and tucking me back into my jeans before sitting up like nothing had happened. My cock twitched, desperate, but she just wiped her mouth with the napkin and smiled.

“My turn,” she murmured, her hand slipping under her own skirt.

I glanced down, watching the way her thighs shifted as she touched herself. I could see the damp spot on her panties when she spread her legs just a little, her fingers pressing against the fabric.

“Fuck, let me,” I growled, sliding my own hand under the table.

I grabbed her wrist, pulling her hand away, then shoved my fingers into her panties. She was sopping, her pussy swollen and slick against my fingertips. I rubbed slow circles over her clit, watching her bite back moans, her hips rocking into my touch.

“God, yes,” she breathed, her nails digging into my arm.

I pushed two fingers inside her, curling them just right, and she gasped, her head falling forward. Her cunt clenched around me, hot and tight, and I fingered her faster, my thumb still working her clit as she squirmed in her seat.

People chatted around us, oblivious, while I fucked her under the table, her pussy dripping down my hand. Her breath came in short, sharp gasps, her body tensing—then finally, she came, her thighs clamping around my wrist as she shuddered, biting her lip hard to stay quiet.

I pulled my fingers out, slick with her, and she grabbed my wrist, bringing them to her mouth. Her tongue swiped over my fingers, cleaning them, eyes locked on mine.

“We’re finishing this at home,” I growled.

She just smirked. “Promise?”