Truth Or Dare [Part 4] Dinner Dates & Dares - Sex Stories

Truth Or Dare [Part 4] Dinner Dates & Dares

... Mother and Daughter.

It was Jen’s mother who answered the flush of her husband’s cheeks, “He means fancy non-alcoholic drinks, Stuart.”

Jen’s Dad – Stuart - nodded, regaining his composure when answering my question, “Well, that might be nice; I’ve never had one.”

I wanted to ramp the game up another notch – Jen had brought her parents toThe Republic, after all – but didn’t think there wasany tone of voice innocent enough for me to try asking, ‘You’ve never had a Virgin before?’

Jen, who must’ve sensed that I was going to cross the line that stretched across her parent's credulity, jumped hard onto the end of her father’s sentence, “Try a Mojito, Daddy; it's basically a posh glass of lemonade.”

“OK, I’ll take your recommendation,” he said, “It’s actually nice to know that you’re still a non-drinker.”

I kept my face stoic. I could only wonder at the lies Jen had managed to sell to her parental unit, which involuntarily brought the image of her sucking my cock to mind.

Her mum, either catching the slight adjustment of my stance or with a clearer understanding of her daughter's university life, actually seemed to be suppressing a smile as she asked for her own Mojito.

I gave a small bow, acknowledging the order, parting with, “Enjoy your meal.”

As I walked away from the table, I felt every inch of my cock pressing semi-hard on the inside of my trouser leg. How much had Jen’s mother seen, and what did she suspect. With the best will in the world, ...

... Jen’s parents were not the sort of people who would frequent bars likeThe Republic, so surely her mother, at least, must wonder at the choice of dinner venue.

Back safely behind the bar counter, I allowed a true smile to blossom on my face. Jen had a track record of playing games, and while I couldn’t guess what she was up to, giving away a free dinner – or picking up the cheque myself – was more than a fair price to pay for a night even approaching the last time we were together.

I busied myself, personally making the Mojitos for the O’Leary’s table, in a failing attempt to keep my mind on work, when a voice from over my shoulder called my attention, “David?”

There was no need to look back; I recognised the voice, answering, “Hey Pablo, what’s up, mate?”

He cleared his throat slightly, “That lady from the table would like to speak to you again.”

I still kept my hands and eyes on the work of making the three cocktails, finishing the drinks and placing them on a tray before turning to hand the order to Pablo, but instead of the Spanish waiter, Jen was standing at the service area of the bar.

“Sorry to disturb you,” she said as I set the drinks on the counter, a smile rising on my lips in greeting.

“No, trouble –Ms. O’Leary,” I answered, staying in the character I’d established. “How can I help?”

“You can call me Jen,” she said, dropping me a half-wink, which I was sure no one could see. “I just wanted to give you the voucher for our free dinner.”

“The ...