The second bottle of wine has already been emptied into our glasses, the server sensing ours is a table best left alone from the way we go quiet when she checks on us. With the plates cleared and the glasses full, he slips out of his side of the booth and over to mine, pressing his leg up against me, letting his hand casually fall onto my knee as he tells me the slit in my skirt doesn’t quite go high enough for his liking.
Under the table, he skates his hand up my leg, under my skirt, fingertips lightly brushing over the ridges of the fishnets I carefully chose hours earlier. He pauses for a moment as they cross from the lace edges of the stockings to the warm skin of my thigh.
“Was that for me?” he asks, dropping your voice low, leaning closer.
I shrug my shoulders and smirk slightly.
He tsks me and shakes his head, admonishing my cheekiness as he pushes my legs further apart and runs my thumb over my panties, causing a sharp intake of breath. The feather touch on my clit makes it impossible for me to stop from pushing my hips up against his hand, hoping for more.
I’m looking at him when he pulls it away, slides it back down over the stockings to rest on my knee again. Leaning closer, he whispers into my ear.
“Patience, kitten.”
The night is far from over, he says, skimming that same hand up over my waist, the slope of my breast, my nipple and up to my neck, which I throw back. He leaves his hand there for a moment, feeling my pulse under his thumb before brushing it over my lips. I part them and his thumb slides in to my warm mouth, tongue running over the tip.
He turns to wave down the server for the bill.
We tumble from the restaurant and into a cab. I’m waiting for him to kiss me hard while he gives the address to his hotel, but instead he presses his lips against the base of my throat, taking my hand and telling me he won’t touch me again until we get there. He’s going to make me wait.
In the elevator, though, he pushes me up against the back wall, kisses me hard, rucks up my skirt with one hand, the other tangling into my hair. Hooking one finger into the edge of my lace thong panties, he pulls them aside, sliding it between the lips, grazing the clit and then lower until it’s just about to slip inside me. I push my hips against his hand, kiss back bruisingly. But you stop, tauntingly, just far enough away.
“Please, Daddy,” I whisper.
“Not yet,” he says, and puts his lips to the base of my throat. “Patience, kitten.”
Then the doors open and he leads me down the hall, swiftly unlocking the door and closing it behind us, spinning me around so my back is against it.
“Don’t move,” he says, stepping back to look me over, taking in the tight-fitting sweater, pencil skirt and stiletto patent heels. My red lipstick is smeared slightly from the hard kiss in the elevator, my chest rising and falling quickly as I try to anticipate the next move. He’s looking me right in the eyes, but I still can’t guess what will happen next.
So, I take a step forward.
He tsks me again and presses his body against mine, hard against the door so I can’t move. Kissing his way down my neck, unbuttoning my cardigan as he goes, tugging it off my body and letting it drop to the floor. The colder air in the room causes a wash of goosebumps across my pale skin, nipples hardening to push against my sheer black bra. He continues to kiss a path down my body, over my rounded breasts, down between them and on as he reaches behind me to unzip my skirt. It falls to the floor with a subtle whoosh, puddling around my heels.
I start to lift one leg to kick it out of the way, but he looks at me as he growls, “I said, don’t move, kitten.”
Instead, I lean back against the cold door and close my eyes so I can concentrate on what he’s doing. He’s kissed his way past my navel, over the black lace thong and to the tops of my thighs, framed by the fishnet stockings, pale skin sharply contrasted by the black mesh.
Kneeling now, he brushes his thumb once again over my pussy, harder now. Still with the thong acting as a thin barrier between his hand and my desire, his thumb runs up and down the furrow between my lips, pausing to run small circles over my clit, making me moan slightly, beggingly.
“Tell me what you want,” he says, as his thumb continues to graze over my panties.
“Please,” is all I can muster.
“What. Do. You. Want?” He stops his thumb, just resting it lightly, tauntingly.
“Please. I need your mouth on me. Now. Please.”
“Was that so hard, kitten?” he asks, pushing aside my thong and slowly running his tongue up my pussy and over my clit.
I can’t stop myself from pushing my hips forward, knees almost buckling at the sensation of tongue on cunny. I run my own hands up my body to my breasts, pinching and pulling at my hard nipples while he sends shivers through me with his tongue.
“These are just getting in the way,” he announces, sliding my thong off, letting me kick it aside once it reaches my feet. “Take off your bra.”
I unhook it and let it fall to the floor to join my skirt, leaving me in just my stilettos and fishnet stockings.
He’s still completely dressed in his suit. But then he stands up and begins to loosen his tie, pulling it free from his shirt as he tells me to turn around, press my cheek to the door and rest my hands at the small of my back. Winding the silk tie around my wrists, he knots it tightly and then turns me back around so they are pinned to the door. Kissing me hard, I can taste myself on his tongue.
All I can think about is his cock inside me, and that need grows as he begins to rub my clit with two fingers, resting your thumb at the opening of my cunny.
“Please Daddy?” I can barely get the words out.
He steps back, shrugs off his coat and lays it carefully over one of the two chairs inside the room. Unbuttoning his shirt slightly, he settles down into the chair.
I haven’t left my spot against the door, finally following the instruction not to move.
He tilts his head to beckon me, and then watches intently as I walk over, hands still behind my back until I’m standing at the chair, shins against the seat, between his legs. I can tell from his look that he wants me to kneel, so I sink to my knees as he reaches out to caress my cheek with his hand, and then over my lips, pushing your thumb into my mouth. I run my tongue over it and then suck lightly.
“Such a good girl,” he whispers.
“Now I want you to do that with my cock.”
It’s already thick and hard as he pulls it out. Big enough that I know it will fill my mouth. Which it does as I wrap my lips around the head, running my tongue over it before taking more in. He tangles his hand in my hair, encouraging me to take it deeper and deeper still, until it’s pushing against the back of my throat and I begin to worry I won’t be able to breathe.
He holds me there for a beat, then another, his cock hardening even more before letting me slide off as he groans. That guttural sound only encourages me to do more, do better and I take as much of his thick, hard cock in my mouth again and again, red lipstick marking the shaft as I look up at him.
“Such a good kitten,” he says, running his hand over my cheek and under my chin, lifting my face to look up.
He pulls me off and leans over to kiss me roughly, hands moving to my breasts, cupping them, running his thumbs over my nipples. He pushes me back off my heels and pulls me up to standing, turning me around to untie my wrists and push me back onto the bed, jerking me to edge so my legs are spread wide. One hand is on my clit, while the other fists his cock. He runs the head up and down my cunny, so close to pushing in, but resisting.
“What do you want?”
“You,” I say and he grazes the tip up and down between my swollen cunny lips.
“Wht do you want, kitten?”
“You, Daddy. Please.” The plaintive note in my voice is clear.
He pushes his cock deep into me, two fingers still swirling over my clit, my hips rising to meet each thrust.
Suddenly stopping, he moves up the bed and then pulls me on top so I’m straddling him, still wearing my fishnets and heels. I slide down on his cock, grinding my hips at the bottom, then begin riding him, slowly, so I can feel every inch filling me.
He runs his hands over my thighs to my waist, holds me as I rise and fall on his cock, breasts bouncing. He can tell I’m getting closer, but wants this moment to last. Holding my hips tightly, cock still deep, filling me. I try to move but he keeps me in place for just that extra moment.
“Patience, kitten.”
When he finally lets go, he tells me to start rubbing my clit because he wants to feel my pussy clamp down on his cock as I cum. As he can feel me getting closer, he coasts one hand up my body, over my collarbone to rest at the base of my throat. I start to ride faster, aching to have him as deep in me as I can get. He squeezes his hand just a little bit, making it ever so slightly hard to breathe. A small signal of how he’s still in control.
And, as I get closer, as those orgasmic waves start to crest, I get one last sharp breath before he makes me hold it in — my whole world shrinking down to just the sensation of his cock filling me and my fingers on my clit.
“Cum, kitten. Let go.”
My back arches and I shudder as I cum, his hand falling away from my throat as I gasp and collapse forward, pressing my breasts to his chest, my hot breath panting next to his ear.
“I’m going to make you do that again,” he says with a smile, pushing one of my legs down so he can roll us both over. As I move my hair off my face, he clasps my wrists and hold them above my head, pinning me there as he drives his cock hard and deep into me. My hips rise to meet each thrust.
“My kitten,” he says, starting to fuck me faster and harder, bruising my hips and my lips as he kisses me.
“You’re going to cum again on my cock. I want to feel it.”
His words are a command and my body answers. He can tell I’m getting close again. I’m straining against his hand, which has still captured my wrists. I want to grasp the sheets, I want to rub my clit, I want to grab his hips and pull him even deeper into me.
“Are you going to cum for me, kitten?”
“Yes. Yes, please,” I gasp.
He stops.
He pulls his cock almost all the way out and I arch my back trying to get it back in me. Need it filling me.
“Tell me what you want,” he says.
“Please. Fuck me. Please let me cum,” I whimper.
“Good girl.”
He thrusts hard and deep once more and I start to cum on his cock, squeezing it my cunny, wrapping my legs around his back. As he lets go of my wrists, I clench the sheets with my hands and let it all wash over me.
With one last thrust, balls deep, he cums, pinning me to the bed with his cock as you finally find release.
“The very best kitten,” he whispers.