Kelly: Dinner Before the Opera

Kelly leaned back into the plush seat of the limousine; savoring the way the leather moved beneath her recumbent form. Her long blue silk gown whispered as she moved back to relax.

He sat opposite her, looking dashing in his tuxedo, one button open and the bow-tie undone and askew. Every bit the rogue, he arched his eyebrow at her and waited in silence.

"What?" she asked at last.

These silences always made her nervous and excited at the same time. He would simply sit there, gazing at her in silence. She never knew quite what to expect from those interludes, for he rarely told her what thoughts crossed his mind. But the effect was always the same: Unused to such scrutiny, uncomfortable with the sudden focus on her, she would begin to fidget. It never failed; she felt awkward around him at times like this, knowing his gaze was roaming the length of her. No matter that she was clad in finery, no matter that her curls were piled atop her head, exposing the beauty of her neck. No matter that her ample breasts filled out the gown in fine form or that her thighs lay wickedly exposed by the gown's lengthy slits. No, none of that mattered. What mattered was that he sat there, gazing at her in silence.

She giggled, nervous now despite herself. But even as she laughed, she could feel the first stirrings of excitement within her. A heat was building, for she knew that no matter how awkward she might feel beneath the glare of his scrutiny, he favored her in this manner because he loved the sight of her. She knew that despite the poker face he was presenting, he was getting as excited as she was, happy in the knowledge that she was his to play with.

His lover.

His toy.

His slut.

That word made her tingle. She knew some would shun that title, but she reveled in it. Long ago, they'd reached an understanding regarding that term. Because she was his, because she was safe in the confines of their relationship, she could be as wild as she wanted. She could let her appetites run rampant, and knew that he would satiate them far better than she possibly could.

She could be a slut.

She could be herself.

Kelly uncrossed and then recrossed her legs. As she hoped, the gown rode high, exposing the lacey top of one stocking. One long garter strap peaked out from beneath the silk fabric, and she noted with pleasure that his brown eyes darted to it, if ever so briefly. It was dim in the limo, so she knew that the real surprise she had prepared for him remained unknown.

"What do you have planned for the evening?" She asked, eager to learn more of the night's festivities. He smiled ... she knew she was predictable in some regards, and they both enjoyed the dance that resulted.

"Dinner first, then the symphony."

"And then?"

"That depends on whether you behave."

"Behave?"

"Yes, behave."

"Have I been naughty?"

"I think you know the answer to that."

"Well, then please allow me to make amends." With that, she slid forward to come to kneel in front of him. She gazed up at him, her lips full and wet. Her hands swiftly undid his zipper and reached in to pull him free. As expected, he was hard and throbbing with desire.

"And you say I've been naughty?"

He smiled at that.

Pleased that she had this power over him, Kelly bent to take her pleasure.

+++

She moved up and down the length of him, her tongue lapping and whirling its way around his shaft. Her lips gripped him from the side as she bent her neck to stroke him with her mouth.

Each time, she approached his turgid head, only to sink back down, flicking rapidly with her tongue. Each time he would groan and twitch.

He reached down, twining his strong hands into her honey blonde curls. Piled high, they came cascading down into his hands, where he groped for handfuls. At last, he took her curls in his hands and began to move her head up and down. She reveled in the sudden loss of control, and being made to do this. As he pulled her high, she flicked her tongue against his head. He shivered and moved her ever so slightly to the right. Now as he pressed down, she opened her mouth to take him in, thrilled at the sudden fullness of him inside her.

Gently at first, then with a building urgency, he began to pull her head up and down. She responded to this manipulation by alternately sucking him and scoring the length of him with her teeth. To be used like this, for him to essentially fuck her mouth, filled her with an immense satisfaction. Knowing that she pleased him so...that she had this measure of control over him.

It made her wet.

She felt the heat surging up from within. Her pussy began to pulse with need and she could feel the wetness on her thighs. Knowing that she satisfied him so, that she could torment him, drive him out of his normal self-assuredness, to make him lose all control. It was almost too much to bear.

His breathing became ragged and he plunged her down onto the fullness of him. She relaxed her throat and took him farther. Again and again. Shuddering he relaxed his grip and she was suddenly darkened by her own curls. Her focus narrowed to his cock, rigid and quivering before her, framed by her own blonde locks. She stopped the pistoning motion and fixated on the head, sucking on it with great intensity. It was too much for him.

With a loud groan, he came, gushing forth his orgasm into her mouth. Hot cum struck her throat and coated her tongue. She rolled it on her tongue, savoring his taste, even as she began to move up and down on him once more.

Caught by her, tortured thusly, his breathing became hurried and he began to buck.

"No more..." he gasped.

Of course she didn't stop. Not when she had him like this. Powerless before her. A creature of her will, for a change. How she delighted in turning the tables on him. Too often she was the one begging for release, whimpering with barely constrained ecstasy.

But now, here on her knees, his cock in her mouth, she owned him.

Finally, he could stand no more and fell back against the leather seat, spasming, spent. Kelly leaned back at last, wiping the final traces of semen from her lips, which by now were clean of all the dark lipstick she'd put on before. She sat back on her seat, and reached up to redo her hair.

A sudden motion behind him caught her eye...the smoky glass of the driver's window closing silently. Looking into the window, she caught his eye and winked.

And was shocked at her own nerve. Here she was, sitting before her lover, barely able to meet his gaze most of the time, and yet the knowledge that this relative stranger had seen her thusly, on her knees in a most wanton position, excited her.

Kelly marveled at the freedom that her lover gave her. Ordinarily she would have been horrified to know that another had seen her, wracked with self-conscious gremlins. But when she was with him, those doubts and misgivings vanished, washed away by trust.

He smiled wanly at her. "You are amazing."

"I know," she smiled, pinning her hair up.

"I must return the favor, you know." He reached into his jacket pocket and removed a small velvet bag. Her breath quickened, hoping that these were the gift he'd told her of.

He smiled. "And I imagine that you must be ready for that favor."

After this long, he could read her like a book. She was still so wet, pulsing with need. Frustrated by the knowledge that whatever reciprocity he had in mind would be some time coming yet, Kelly crossed her legs again, taking time in the hope that he could see her treasure. If he did, he gave no notice. That was his style, to tease her into irrationality, to make her wait, to give her a larger reward through the determined application of stimulation and intermission. She hated him for it, and loved it all the same.

He held out his left hand to her. "Take these."

Kelly plucked two small steel balls from his grasp. Ben Wa balls. She knew them well from her research, but had never had the pleasure.

"Really?"

"Yes."

"But the symphony?"

"What of it?"

"You know I won't be able to concentrate."

"Oh, but you will, these will give you the proper focus."

She laughed at him. "Liar!"

"Besides, you have all of dinner to get used to them."

"Fine. But close your eyes while I put them in."

Surprisingly, he complied without complaint or protest. That put her slightly off guard; he normally took every opportunity to look at her body. Kelly sat back and hiked up the silken gown. Doffing her shoes, she placed her stocking feet up on either side and reached in, easing first one, then the other, into her. It wasn't hard. She was so wet from her ministrations that they went in without protest, warm and smooth from his touch, not at all the cold shock she'd feared.

Once inside, she could feel their weight. They moved within her, creating a pleasant pressure in new places. It was not unpleasant, and stimulating, though not in the way she'd expected. Still, she could see how they would prove useful. Kelly lowered her legs, smoothed the gown, and retrieved her shoes.

"I'm ready."

"You are?" his brown eyes opened lazily, roaming the length of her to meet hers at last. He held her in his gaze for a few moments, before she giggled and dropped her eyes. How quickly her submissiveness reasserted itself.

"I am."

"Really."

"Tell me how it feels."

"It's odd...I can feel them within me...a fullness...nothing like having your cock inside me...but pleasant."

"But you enjoy it?"

"Oh yes, very much."

"Good. Come, we've arrived." He climbed out, straightened his jacket, and offered her his hand. She took it and rose from the limo, a bit unsteady on the heels he'd bought her to wear. She'd never been good on heels, but wore these for him. Another small way she pleased him.

They entered the restaurant, a chic new offering from some famous chef she'd read about. How he knew about it baffled her.

After a few moments, the maitre de came to assist, and took their name. As the older man roamed through his book, Kelly saw her lover casually reach into his right pocket. He must be about to tip him, she thought, perhaps we'll get a table by the window. That would be nice.

Kelly shuddered suddenly as the pulses lit up her pussy, and had to bite her lip to avoid the moan that rose abruptly in her throat. The vibrations shook her to the very core of her being, and she nearly fell. He caught her with his arm, and helped her steady herself. He looked at her again, his face serious but his eyes twinkling with mischief.

"You said you were ready, right?"

+++

The sensations were so intense she almost sobbed. She bit her lip as another spate of strong pulses turned her body into a tuning fork. Every part of her tingled with energy.

He said something then, but she didn't hear him.

She couldn't.

She could barely remain standing.

His lips were moving, and from the smug look on her face she knew he was making light of her current rapturous predicament. But she couldn't actually focus enough to make out his words. It was all she could do to nod weakly.

At last, the pulses faded. Sound returned to her world in a rush. Her breathing slowed slightly, and she swallowed heavily to regain some measure of control. A faint sheen of perspiration covered her face, and her pussy fairly flowed with the intense pleasure she'd been forced to endure. After just two minutes of this her silk gown, already tailored to a tight cut, clung to her frame like a second skin.

He took her arm and turned back to the maitre de. "She's not been well. Perhaps you could get us a quiet corner table somewhere?" The twenty disappeared into the other man's hand so quickly she almost missed it.

Wobbling and slightly lightheaded, she let him guide her to their table. The restaurant was well laid out, with large tables for six near the front, set against intimate booths in the back. Fine red carpet covered the floor and set the brilliant white of the tablecloths off with a surety. Kelly had just begun to notice these small details, just begun to relax and think the he would let her reach the table when a second round of pulsing burst forth from within her.

A ragged moan burst from her full lips, drawing the attention of the other diners. She turned bright crimson with embarrassment. This device would have been bad enough in the privacy of their own bedroom, for she knew it would soon reduce her to a creature of her basest desires, but to debut it here, in public, simply broke all precedent.

Again, her knees buckled. Again, he held her upright. Dimly she wondered if he'd planned this whole thing when he'd laid out her clothes and high heels that afternoon. Or was this another of his spontaneous tests?

She never know. To ask would be to fail the test.

Every eye in the room was on her, nearly all of them were fraught with concern, wondering why she looked well but could barely walk. All, that is, save one. As they passed a table close to theirs a stunning brunette dressed in white reached out and placed her fingers on Kelly's stomach, caressing it through the silk. The woman was seated by herself, but looked as if she was expecting someone to arrive. Kelly jumped at the woman's touch, grateful for the new sensation, but shocked at the brazen manner in which she'd been touched. At her side, he pulled up short to let the woman touch her. Why? She wondered. Did he know this woman? Was this the test?

Weakly, she watched the woman draw her fingers, nails painted to a high sheen, down the length her body until her fingers lingered over her vulva. Noting the faint pulsing vibrations emanating from within her, the woman smiled up at Kelly and licked her lips suggestively. "Lovely, dear, simply lovely. You must come join us for a drink when you've finished."

"Thank you, we will." Her lover led Kelly to the table, a finely appointed circular corner booth covered by a starched white tablecloth. They slid into their seats, facing the restaurant, knees touching beneath the table. As they settled into their placed at the table, she gathered her gown about her so that her bare bottom was seated on the chair. It would not do to stain her gown. He noted this, and soon the pulses began to subside.

"Will that be all, sir?" The maitre de was the acme of professionalism, either unaware of the dance playing out beneath her clothes or entirely uninterested by it.

"Yes, that should be fine, but do send over a bottle of champagne to that table please, and another for us."

"Very good, sir." He bowed stiffly and left. She barely noticed. Finally the twin spheres inside her went still. Kelly looked up to see him taking a small controller out of his jacket. He placed the device before her and turned to look at her. She said nothing.

"Did you enjoy that, my love?"

"Very much, Sir."

"Would you like more?"

She froze, caught in the indecision of her modesty against her lusts. The prim and proper woman in her, the one who excelled in a high-stress job, mingled at parties with the well-to-do, and lectured at the local university said no, these two pulses had been more than enough. The symphony didn't start for another two hours and she was already on the verge of an orgasm. Further sessions with his new toy would reduce her to a heaving wreck.

But the other half of her, the truer inner core that had been hidden so long, that had emerged only through his ministrations, hungered for more. Her pussy ached with desire, her lips gasping even as she squirmed in her seat in a vain attempt to finish what he'd started. She could accept that the spheres would turn her in a heaving wreck. On some dark level she barely understood, to be thusly transformed was all she really wanted. Even now she wanted him to tear her gown from her and fuck her here and now, crushing her body against white linen, flatware, and flowers. Let the other diners think what they might. They all knew what she really was, who she really was. For a few select weekday hours she was a professional woman, but that wasn't really her.

As if to punish her for her indecision, or perhaps to offer her an incentive to decide, a faint quivering began to build. She looked up from her plate to see him holding the device in one strong hand. Those same fingers that so often pulled at her, penetrated her, teased her folds and curves, were now poised over the oscillation controls.

His brown eyes bored into her.

Faint vibrations began.

She knew then that this was indeed some kind of test.

He knew who she really was. He knew what she really was. He was just determined to make her admit it to everyone. To herself.

"Please..."

"Please, what, my love?" His eyes locked hers.

Stronger now, summoning her heat back from its slumber.

"Sir, I ... I am ... not sure ..."

"Not sure of what?"

Wetness flooded her anew. Blue silk clung to her thighs, sending shivers through her.

"There are so many people here..."

He made no response at first, and then nodded in agreement. "True. So?"

"So?"

"Yes, I understand that there are people here. What is your point?"

Sudden strength now in the pulses. She began to mew softly.

"Behave yourself, dear, really."

Kelly licked her lips, sweating with the struggle of not moaning and thrashing about. "I can't," she mumbled at last, her fingers clutching at the tablecloth.

"Well then what am I supposed to do with you?"

"Turn ... turn it ... off."

Mockery danced across his face. "Never."

"Whuh...why...not?" The pulses began to cycle...a repetition of strong-strong-strong-weak. It was enough to bring her nearly to the edge of an orgasm, but that damnable finishing pulse never proved sufficient to push her over.

"Why would you think you deserve it? You've done nothing to warrant release. You haven't even asked me to cum yet. That seems rather gauche of you, don't you think? Acting like it's your decision to make...honestly, I think I will keep you here on the edge until you beg me for release."

With that, he tucked the control back into his jacket pocket and calmly picked up his water glass. He nodded to the brunette seated nearby and lifted his glass in a small toast. The stunning woman returned the favor with her wine glass, her lips curled in a slight smirk.

Kelly clutched the table for support, reveling in the torturous pulsing within her. Her brow was beaded with sweat and her nipples were painfully erect, visible to all beneath the blue silk. Beneath it she was completely nude, save for the tiniest wisp of a demi-cup.

How she longed to cry out, how well she knew that she couldn't.

To release herself without permission would be to invite punishment of the worst kind – a total embargo of his talents. He was quite clear on this point, and it had only taken one episode to convince her that no matter how much he might enjoy her, he was fully capable of enforcing his mandate over her. The simple thought of that week she'd been denied him made her shudder, for in that week she'd discovered to her horror that she could not climax without him. No matter how she tried, release remained elusive. This fact was all the more dreadful because it came on the heels of years of able self-pleasure. So to deny him now would be tantamount to torturing herself, because she knew that she needed to cum and cum regularly.

She moaned softly at this thought and forced her hands to unclenched. With great effort she sat back in her chair, rocking back and forth slightly as she ground her pussy into the fabric of her dress. Surprisingly, the stimulation did help, for it gave her a different sensation to focus on.

"Be still." His face was expressionless.

Slowly she managed to cease her rocking, focusing her will so that she only quivered slightly beneath the unrelenting pulses.