Erotic Fiction: Prairie Dogging
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I sat across the table from Deja, watching as she slowly lifted her fork to her mouth and bit into the large ravioli on the end of it. She giggled as the cheese spilled out of it, tumbling down the side of her lip. It was saved by the prongs of the fork in a swift moment, from falling onto her lap.
“It’s so good,” she mumbled once she had swallowed the bite. “It’s the perfect mix of sweet and rich flavours.” It looked amazing.
I nodded. “I wish I wasn’t lactose intolerant. Otherwise, I’d have ordered the same thing.” She flashed me a sympathetic smile, sighing. Deja’s eyes casually scanned the restaurant around us. Waitstaff bustled about, refilling glasses, delivering lavishly presented plates of decadent foods, and clearing away empty dishes from satiated patrons. Under the dimly lit pendant light hanging above our table, my attention was drawn to Deja’s dish yet again; that temptingly delicious plate of pasta beckoning me to try it.
She met my gaze and chuckled. “Do you want to try it? Even if only a bite?” Oh, why would she ask that? I had no self-control when it came to enticing dishes, especially one as visually inviting as hers.
“Just a small bite. Just to taste it.” Deja scooped up an entire ravioli, dripping in its white wine cream sauce, and carefully lifted it to my mouth across the table. I leaned in and ate it in a single mouthful, chewing slowly to let the combination of flavours coat my tongue. It was divine, one of the most incredible things I had ever tasted.
The next half hour went by seamlessly, the two of us submerged in casual chatter and quiet laughter as we had our date together. It wasn’t until Deja began telling me a story about one of her coworkers that I felt the first unsettling sensations in the pit of my stomach. The gurgling began silently, my belly flittering in discomfort. I shifted forward in my seat, arching my back slightly in order to release the pressure I had been putting on it in hopes of even temporary relief.
Our server came by then, apologizing for having cut off Deja’s story to hand us a dessert menu. Deja glanced down at it for the briefest of moments before handing it back. “The house-made vanilla ice cream, please.” When the attention turned to me, I forced a smile and shook my head.
“Nothing for me, thanks.” My stomach had taken more than it could handle already.
Deja reached across the table and placed her hand over mine, giving me an affectionate squeeze. “You alright?” I nodded.
Seemingly relieved, she jumped back into her recounting, each sentence spoken drifting further away from my conscious. It was not long before I could not fully comprehend the words coming from her mouth, too focused on the churning within my torso. Sharp pains radiated from my bowels, a heaviness growing. I knew it was only a matter of minutes before I would need to get out of here to use the washroom. When it came to times like this, there was no getting around it; my body needed to expel what was causing it this suffering.
“Are you okay?” Deja asked again. I stood up slowly, excusing myself “for just a few minutes.” Around me, there was no waitstaff in sight. My eyes darted desperately around the perimeter of the room in search of a door leading to a bathroom.
Tucking my chair in behind me shakily, I began treading across the carpeted floor of the restaurant, unaware of other patrons enjoying their meals, of the aromatic fresh foods wafting through the air. The only things I could think about were the aches pulsing in my lower body, the sweat sheen forming across my forehead, and the seeming absence of restrooms. As I stumbled around blindly, scanning the room, a server touched my arm gently.
“Washrooms,” I whispered, nearly incoherently. “Please.”
With the direction pointed out, it wasn’t long before I was making my way towards them. Hurrying forward, I felt the heaviness in my intestines descend, lowering themselves closer and closer to being expelled. Please, I thought, please, just a moment longer. As I turned the corner to the narrow hallway where the restrooms were located, a guttural gurgle escaped my body. So too, did everything that had been held inside.
I felt the warmth fill my underwear slowly, embarrassment, stench, and physical relief clouding the space around me.
