We rode in silence, but a comfortable one. You didn’t know where we were going of course you never did. I never told you, but you enjoyed being with me regardless, so the where never mattered much. Besides, part of being submissive was going with the flow, and you were content to do so. We parked in a parking garage a few stories up in the shopping centre. It was dinnertime so you assumed a restaurant was the destination. I took your by the hand and we walked casually down a few flights of stairs to the street. It was Friday night, and the sidewalks were beginning to get busy, but the crowd was not yet unbearable. We walked a few blocks, lazily checking out the various storefronts as we passed, as well as the people. Occasionally I would have a story about a certain place, and you would listen intently, always loving when I opened up to you here and there. We stopped in front of a restaurant and I opened and held the door for you. It was somewhat dark inside, and your eyes adjusted slowly. There was live jazz being played in a corner by the bar, and while crowded, we were taken to a table right away. The booth, while in the busier part of the restaurant somewhat close to the door, was cosy and candlelit. We slid in on either side, ending up next to one another in the middle. A waiter took our drink order, and as he walked away, you felt my hand run up your thigh softly caressing the skin that was exposed from sitting down in the short skirt you wore. You looked at me and smiled sweetly, and I leaned in and kissed your nose. By the time the drinks arrived a few short minutes later, my hand was steadily creeping up your thigh towards your pussy, covered in only soft baby powder. You smiled at the waiter and thanked him, a slight giggle escaping you. The waiter must have known, as he grinned suddenly and said he would be back in a few minutes. You found yourself somewhat thankful that the table had a tablecloth that brushed the floor, knowing full well that I would have cared less if what I was doing could be seen. I gently pushed your leg, wanting you to uncross them from our ladylike position. You resisted only slightly, but complied when I leaned close and whispered in your ear, “my sweet little slut isn’t misbehaving is she?” In answer you immediately uncrossed your legs, knowing that your compliance now would determine your rewards or punishments later. The waiter returned a few minutes later, and you struggled through ordering your dinner, as my fingers found your clit and began tugging on it gently. I ordered my meal smooth as silk, as if nothing was going on at all. When the waiter left, you were glad, sure that he knew exactly what was going on. Your nipples had stiffened under your thin black blouse and lace bra, showing through the fabric. Your pussy was moistening quickly in response to my attentions. I shifted slightly in my seat, putting me a little closer to nibble your neck as my fingers managed to push inside and find their way into your warm wet pussy. I pushed two fingers into you slowly, and you squirmed. I whispered in your ear again, smiling all the while, “I want my beautiful slave to cum on my fingertips, quietly, right here, right now.” I knew you would cum, you never could resist my touch, it was the quietly that was a dominant demand. You was not quiet when you came…almost ever…and I knew that was hard for you. But I also knew you wanted to please me, and I wanted you to cum. You looked around the restaurant nervously - the band playing a few feet away, several people seated at the bar nearby, with one man standing near them. As if in response to your glance, that man turned and smiled at you. You smiled back, wondering what he thought was causing your smile. You vaguely heard the table behind you discussing what to order with the waiter, but I redirected your full attention back to me, using my free hand to gently turn your head to look me in the eye, all the while pumping my fingers in and out of your now sopping wet pussy harder and faster. The candle on the table flickered slightly as you wrapped your hands in the folds of the tablecloth, needing something to squeeze to settle yourself. It didn’t take long for you to reach the point of no return, my fingers knew your well, and their insistent attentions were always right on the mark. You bit your lower lip and looked down at the table, but my free hand wrapped around your neck underneath your hair and pulled your close, kissing your full on the lips, gently, just when you started to cum. It was my way of helping your be quiet, and it worked. Your orgasm rocked through your body, and you knew I could feel the contractions on my fingers and the wetness that escaped your with each one. I stilled my fingers, continuing to kiss your sweetly as your orgasm rolled over your. We stopped kissing as the contractions subsided, just in time for dinner to arrive. You managed to thank the waiter when he placed your plate in front of your, glancing in what seemed to you a knowing way at your now flushed face and glistening lips, even as your sweet tormentor removed his fingers from your hole. You watched me as I brought my hand to my lips and slowly licked each finger that had been inside you. You shifted your position slightly, trying to settle your labis back where they belonged, giggling suddenly at the idea of a wet spot on the vinyl bench we sat on. I smiled at you as you placed your napkin in your lap, then I leaned in close and whispered sweetly, “that’s my good girl. The food here is excellent, but my appetizer was far better.” With that we settled in to enjoy the food, the music, and certainly the fine company of one another.