I walked in, and looked around. She wasn’t at the bar. Of course not. She’d be in the back, where, once we were together, I could slide my fingers into her pussy unnoticed. I walked past the bar, and sure enough, she was sitting at a big table, all alone, typing a message on her phone. Was it to me? To someone else? My jealous mind wanted to know; my jealous eyes briefly tried to ascertain; my rational mind intervened. I looked at her – her blonde hair, her blue eyes, her blue dress, her decolletage. I kissed her hello, forcing my tongue into her mouth. We were in public, sure, but not in my neighborhood. And I liked being seen to possess her.
I sat down across from her at the picnic-table-like table. It was too wide for me to be able to finger her, or even tease her pussy too much, under the table. She hadn’t cum in nearly a week (at my request). I knew that she was ready to explode. I looked at her and said, “I know you want me to come sit next to you, so I can reach down, into your panties, and shove three fingers into your cunt.”
Her eyes rolled back, just a little. She moaned just a little. She’s capable of being a bit theatrically aroused – I can’t tell if it’s authentic, or performance, or both. But I like it, so I don’t (really) care. I said some more things – about her mouth, about my cock. I told her to finger herself, since I couldn’t. I delighted in sniffing, and then licking, her pussy’s juices off her fingers.
I realized I’d forgotten the props I’d intended to bring (a Sharpie and a candle). I blew out the candle on the table and said, “Do you have a purse with you?”
She handed me her purse. I didn’t want it. I just wanted to know she had it. When we left, the candle went in her purse.
We walked to the car, and, as we approached, I opened both the back and the front door. “Put your coat in the back seat,” I said, “and stand here,” pointing to the space between the two doors, “with your hands on the roof of the car.”
I lifted her dress and spanked her, hard. She was surprised, and lurched forward as she let out a little yelp. I hit her again. And again. “Ok,” I said, “Walk around to the other side and get in.”
I started the car, and connected my phone to the stereo. I pressed play, and her heavy breathing began to fill the car. “Put your hands over your head,” I said. (Oh yeah – I had had her sit straight up, erect, for a while in the restaurant with her hands behind her back, showing off her perky, small-ish breasts for all to see.)
She put her hands behind her head, and the crescendo of her moaning over the speakers began. This orgasm she had titled “It’s about time,” because, after a BUNCH of orgasms she had produced for me a couple of weeks earlier, this was the first REALLY LOUD one. And it was really loud.
The volume in the car was up. I opened the moon roof. We weren’t moving – we were parked on a quiet side street. “I’m pretty sure that guy over there can hear you,” I said, pointing to a guy walking briskly across the street. Her moaning grew louder on the speakers, and soon, she was cumming, loudly. I felt her pussy through her pantyhose, through her panties. It was drenched. Without having touched her, my finger smelled, unmistakably, of her cunt.
After the orgasm, I pulled the car out of its spot, and eased into the street. We began the ten-minute drive to the hotel.
She waited while I checked in. I waited while she got ice, while she went to the room. I got to the room, and spanked her, hard, for ten minutes or so. Her ass was red. It had to feel good when I dripped the ice water on the marks I had left. It had to feel less good when I dripped hot wax on her ass. And then better when I dripped cold water on her again.
I knew – I knew – that her cunt was ready. That she was ready. That if I didn’t put something – my fingers, my cock – in her soon, I ran the risk of losing her….