Women's secrets

The Game Of Perversion - The devil likes coffee

Ivone uncrossed her legs and discreetly moved them apart. She knew the guy had been watching her for a few minutes.

The coffee shop was packed with waitresses in tight black skirts, white shirts, and red bow ties circulating from table to table with silver trays in their hands or taking orders.

She did not recognize the person sitting at the adjacent table, dressed in a brown suit and black tie, with gray hair, who appeared to be in his forties.

He couldn't take his eyes off her, even accompanied by a girl. Girlfriend, or maybe the daughter?

The situation was thrilling, which was exactly what she enjoyed. All of this was happening amid a crowd, increasing the risk of being exposed.

The man became agitated upon noticing that she was not wearing her panties. Ivone chuckled as she sipped her hot coffee, leaving traces of her lilac lipstick on the rim of the cup.

The man ran his hand along the middle of his pants, an instinctive gesture that made him look around, suspicious that someone might have noticed his indecent behavior.

Except for Ivone, of course. The girlfriend noticed something unusual in the man's expression. She leaned over and whispered in his ear, but he shook his head in denial. He frowned but remained silent.

The young woman, with an Asian face, small eyes, and straight black hair over half her forehead, looked away.

She shouldn't be a daughter, Ivone thought. Girlfriend, lover? Maybe. The young woman appeared to be in her early twenties and crossed her legs under the chair. Ivone noticed the soles of her boots and how her feet wiggled restlessly. The girl's ponytail reached down to the middle of her back.

Ivone went back to sipping her coffee and took a bite of her croissant. She glanced towards the figure sitting three meters away and noticed him smoothing his hair.

She was chewing and he was smoothing his penis. Ivone laughed at his impudence and the man did the same, moving his lips subtly.

It was a discreet exchange of glances, an audacious flirtation. Ivone placed her finger between her lips and licked it with the tongue.

The man gasped as Ivone shamelessly spread her legs, revealing her vagina.

She carefully pulled up her skirt to touch her wet vulva. The man didn't expect it, his bulge grew inside his pants, and his eyebrows moved as if he were startled.

One of the waitresses crossed in front of them, blocking the view. Another waitress approached and placed a glass of milkshake on her table.

"Bonjour Mademoiselle!"

"Bonjour."

"Anything else?"

"No, that's all. Merci."

Her heart raced, her finger got wet, her pussy heated up. It was orgasmic, perverted, terribly indecent. Ivone enjoyed engaging in public masturbation as a provocative act.

The situation became even more interesting when she noticed that someone had observed her lewd behavior.

The girlfriend kicked the horny man's foot. She said something and he looked innocent. The man feigned indignation and looked in the other direction, running his hand through his gray hair.

The young woman became more agitated, looking around as if she were looking for someone. Ivone withdrew her finger and closed her legs.

She pretended to be interested in the new biography of Simone de Beauvoir that she had bought before reaching the coffee shop.

Three meters away, she heard the sound of cutlery and plates being pushed across the table. She didn't dare to look at what happened. Followed the discussion with her ears as she leafed through the book. Until she heard a single word in the jealous young woman's voice.

"Merde!"

Ivone heard the dragging of chairs and the hurried tread of the girl's boot. She looked up, holding the page of the book between her fingers. The man looked frightened, his eyes bulging, his mouth open, even his hair disheveled.

One of the waitresses blocked her view of the man. Another prey that had escaped her, that's what she thought. But she turned her eyes just enough and the new figure continued to stare at her in the same way as before, like a mannequin at Madame Tussauds.

In fact, it resembled someone she knew, with its short, white hair. The figure wore a black coat with high Louis Vuitton collars. She slowly removed her from Oakley sunglasses. A smile between cynical and Machiavellian marked her face.

The bright red lipstick and blush highlighted her cheeks. They stared at each other. Ivone felt her breasts swell. A new prey, she thought, a new game of perversion. All was not lost.

The mature woman tucked her black gloves into her Gucci bag. Ivone shifted her chair a few inches, just enough for the elegant woman to be in full view. Leafing through the book, she spread her legs to reveal her pussy. The figure moved her mouth as if to speak.

"Wow!"

Ivone laughed, pretending to be interested in the photo of a young Simone, her hair braided around her head, a cigarette dangling carelessly from her mouth.

The other rested her chin on the fingers of her closed hand as if waiting for a sharp gesture from the abused woman in front of her.

Ivone sucked down the creamy milkshake, her heart pounding, while people in the coffee shop chatted and laughed. No one saw or knew that she was offering herself to the watchful eyes of the new character. A new hunted.

She bit her finger and the chic figure took a deep breath, anticipating the gesture. Ivone slipped her hand under her short skirt, pulled up the fabric, and her secret emerged like a beautiful rose. Her pussy pulsed and sweated.

Ivone inhaled and felt the back of her neck tremble. Her hard nipples poked through the floral blouse. She looked around and slid her finger in, just as discreetly, in her center.

Her ruby grew brighter, redder, hotter. The other bit her lips and tapped her fingers alternately on the table. As if playing a piano, as if fingering someone's vagina.

Ivone's greedy lips bit into her finger. Ivone could feel her juices flowing. She opened her mouth and slowly felt the orgasm pulsing in her uterus. That up her spine until it clouded her mind.

The slender figure crossed her legs and sipped her hot chocolate. One leg resting on the other, swaying.

Ivone imagined the stylish woman in a masturbatory act, a naughty act. Her ripe pussy rubbed against her lips until she had a controlled orgasm.

Ivone waited a moment and lifted her head. Looked, laughed and saw. The sophisticated woman raised her cup in greeting.

Her eyes twinkled, and a mischievous laugh played on her lips. Ivone closed her legs and sucked on the honeyed finger—a subtle scent of a satiated woman. The waitress appeared before the other woman.

The mysterious woman asked for a pen, wrote something down, and handed it to the waitress. She stood up, opened her purse, and handed over two twenties. Pointed in Ivone's direction and the young girl nodded yes.

The figure walked out as if on a catwalk. The waitress blocked Ivone's view again.

"Mademoiselle, excusez-moi."

"Oui?"

"Madame Priestly, she paid your check. And asked me to give you this."

The waitress placed the money and the note on the table.

"Priestly?"

"Oui."

Ivone unfolded the note and read it.

"Beautiful, you and your audacity. Merci for the unexpected pleasure."