Jane shut her eyes tight and thought quickly. She was so close to coming, she could probably finish before anyone else entered the restroom.
She went to work on her dripping sex, biting her lip to keep from moaning. As she stroked herself, the image of her mysterious enhancements seared itself into her mind. She had a flashback to a few minutes prior, when she was whispering naughty thoughts to Phil. For a brief moment, she regretted what she was doing. She should have saved this for Phil. If it felt this good by her own hand, then how much better would it be if he was--
Her next mental image was of his cock, swollen in equal measure to her own parts, entering her. Hard.
She came just as hard.
A minute later, she was at the sink, washing her dirty deed from her hands. She'd deposited her soaked panties in the trash can, thankful it was the kind that had a lid, so no one would see or smell what she was leaving behind. After cleaning herself up and checking her makeup, she returned to her table.
Phil greeted her with an innocent smile. "Everything all right?"
"Oh, better than all right, I'd say." She took her seat and winced as she felt her dress slide over her bare crotch, still delicate after her session. She'd never gone commando in her life, and now she was doing it at a fancy restaurant after having come in its bathroom!
Phil frowned and leaned a little over the table. "Are you sure about that? Your face is pretty red."
She smiled awkwardly. He was always so concerned about her. Sometimes annoyingly so, but she much preferred it to the alternative. Maybe he ought to know what had just happened. Not that Jane felt he had a right to know every time she masturbated, but the circumstances raised several alarm bells. Maybe it was a symptom of some kind of illness. But she felt much better now, and the swelling had mostly subsided.
She played with the pendant around her neck as she considered her words.