THE PICNIC - Sex Stories

THE PICNIC

... busboy removed the wine goblets from the table and replaced them with fluted champagne glasses. Our waiter made a decent show of opening our bottle of Dom Perignon (with very little cork popping sound) and pouring it for us before setting the black and dark gold labeled bottle back down into the silver ice bucket. &#034Enjoy,&#034 he encouraged as he bowed away. &#034Mm,&#034 Ellen said as she tried her appetizer. &#034This is so good!&#034 &#034Really?&#034 I said. &#034I was a little afraid to try a snail but it's much like a clam, isn't it?&#034 Having never actually tried one myself I used my slender fork to select a black specimen from one of the deep dimples in my serving dish and tasted it. It WAS quite good; lightly chewy and buttery with just a hint of a garlic flavor. &#034Yes, it IS good,&#034 I said. &#034You mean YOU never had it before and you ordered it for ME?&#034 she scolded. &#034I'm afraid that's true, s*s. I'm mostly a McDonald's kind of guy.&#034 &#034Not tonight,&#034 she said, and smiled at me before taking a sip from her champagne glass. &#034Tonight you're my suave, sophisticated hero, okay?&#034 &#034You got it,&#034 I said and then took a sip of champagne myself. We enjoyed our escargot and then our delicious soup that was steaming and savory with seafood flavors and sherry. Our salads were no less spectacular but, halfway through, we ran out of wine. &#034Can we get more?&#034 Ellen asked. &#034Call the waiter. What's his name?&#034 &#034I don't ...

... know,&#034 I answered truthfully. &#034I didn't catch it if he gave it.&#034 I grinned at her devilishly now, like I used to do when I was planning some mischief for us to get into when we were k**s. &#034Let's call him Basil, okay?&#034 &#034Basil?&#034 &#034Yeah. He looks like a Basil, doesn't he? And with that accent...&#034 &#034You're incorrigible, Danny!&#034 &#034Oh Basil,&#034 I called, loudly in his direction. &#034Shut UP, Danny. He'll hear you!&#034 Whether he heard me or not, the waiter brought a second bottle of champagne and then the lobsters, which were huge and pre-cracked for us so that all we needed to do was pull the shells apart to get at the white, succulent meat. &#034My God this is good!&#034 Ellen gasped as she ate her first forkful of the buttered delicacy. &#034Beats a Big Mac, huh?&#034 We ate in silence for a time (eating lobster requiring all your attention) but then Ellen suddenly said, &#034Phooey!&#034 and dropped her lobster cracker down on the pile of red, discarded shells on her plate. &#034What?&#034 &#034I can't get the meat out of this silly claw,&#034 she complained. &#034Oh, here,&#034 I said, reaching over and taking it from her. &#034I'll get it out for you, okay?&#034 And I proceeded to do just that, extracting a large chunk and then leaning to put it on her plate. &#034No,&#034 she said. &#034No?&#034 &#034Feed me, Danny.&#034 &#034What?&#034 She didn't answer. She just opened her beautiful mouth wide, on the other side of the table, ...