Rainy Cafe Panties

The moment we ducked into the tiny corner cafe, my cock was already half-hard from the way Sarah's wet blouse clung to her tits. Rain hammered the windows like it wanted in, turning the afternoon into a private world of steamed glass and soft jazz. We were the only customers. I guided her to the back booth, my hand brushing the curve of her ass, already thinking about what I planned to do with her panties.

"God, it's pouring," Sarah whispered, sliding in first. Her cheeks were flushed from the cold run, but her eyes had that hungry spark. "We should've just gone home."

I sat close enough that our thighs pressed together under the scarred wooden table. "This is better. No one around. Gives us time to try that thing we talked about." My fingers traced up her knee, slipping under the hem of her short skirt. She shivered, but didn't pull away.

The waitress took our order for two coffees and disappeared into the back. Sarah's breathing quickened when my hand moved higher, stroking the warm, smooth skin of her inner thigh.

"Here?" she breathed, voice low and shaky. "Mark, someone could walk in any second..."

"That's what makes it hot." I leaned in, lips brushing her ear. "Remember last night when you said you wanted to be bad? Give me your panties. Right now."

Her eyes widened, but I saw the thrill flash across her face. She bit her lip, glancing toward the empty counter. With a small nod she lifted her hips just enough. The soft rustle of fabric filled the booth as she hooked her thumbs into the waistband and slid her soaked lace panties down her legs. The rain masked the sound. She balled the damp black thong in her fist and pressed it into my palm under the table.

"They're wet already," she whispered, cheeks burning. "I've been thinking about this since we left the apartment."

I brought the panties to my nose for half a second, inhaling her sweet, musky scent while pretending to wipe rain from my face. My dick throbbed against my jeans. "Fuck, you smell good. Spread your legs for me."

Sarah obeyed, parting her thighs under the table. I slipped my hand back up, fingers gliding over her now-bare pussy. She was slick, swollen, her clit already peeking out like it was begging. I circled it slowly, feeling her tremble.

"Oh shit... Mark..." Her voice cracked. She gripped the edge of the table, knuckles white. "Your fingers feel so dirty doing this in public."

I slid two fingers inside her tight heat, curling them against that spongy spot that always made her crazy. Her pussy clenched around me, hot and greedy. The wet sounds were quiet but obscene under the patter of rain. She rocked her hips in tiny movements, trying not to moan out loud.

The waitress brought our coffees without looking too closely. As soon as she left, Sarah grabbed my wrist, guiding me deeper. "Harder. Please. I need to come."

I pumped my fingers faster, thumb grinding her clit in tight circles. Her breath hitched, turning into soft desperate whimpers she tried to hide behind her coffee cup. I felt her walls flutter, then clamp down as her first orgasm hit. Clear juice trickled over my hand onto the wooden bench.

"Good girl," I murmured, not stopping. "But we're not done. Take my cock out."

Her hands shook as she unzipped me under the table. My thick dick sprang free, heavy and leaking. Sarah wrapped her fingers around it, stroking from base to tip while I kept fingering her dripping cunt. The risk made everything electric. Rain lashed the windows harder.

"I want you inside me," she panted, eyes glassy. "Right here. Fuck me with those panties in my mouth so I don't scream."

I pulled my fingers free, glistening with her cream. She opened wide and I pushed the soaked lace between her lips. The taste of her own pussy made her moan around the fabric. I lifted her skirt, positioned my cock at her entrance, and thrust up hard.

Her eyes rolled back. Tight, velvety heat swallowed every inch of my dick. I gripped her hips under the table and started fucking her in short, deep strokes. The booth creaked softly. Each thrust made her tits bounce inside her damp blouse. Her muffled cries around the panties were the hottest sound I'd ever heard.

"God, your pussy is creaming all over me," I growled low. "So fucking wet. You love being my little slut in this cafe, don't you?"

She nodded frantically, drool mixing with her juices on the lace gag. I reached between us and rubbed her clit while pounding up into her. Her second orgasm crashed through her fast. Her walls spasmed, milking my cock so perfectly I almost lost it.

I pulled the panties from her mouth so I could hear her properly. "Tell me where you want my cum."

"Inside," she gasped, voice hoarse. "Fill me up. I want to feel it drip out when we leave."

I slammed up harder, chasing my own release. The wet slap of our bodies was barely hidden by the rain. When I came, it was explosive. Thick ropes of cum flooded her pussy, so much it leaked around my shaft and soaked her skirt. She kissed me sloppily, trembling through aftershocks.

We stayed locked together for a long minute, breathing hard, my softening cock still buried in her messy cunt. Finally I slipped out, tucked myself away, and handed her the ruined panties.

"Keep them in your bag like that," I said with a wicked grin. "I want you walking home with my cum running down your thighs and the smell of us on your panties."

Sarah laughed breathlessly, folding the soaked lace and tucking it away. "You're filthy. I love it." She kissed me again, softer this time. "Next time we do this, I'm wearing the vibrating ones. Your turn to squirm."

The rain eased as we paid and stepped outside, her hand in mine, both of us sticky, satisfied, and already planning the next dirty adventure.