Little Black Dress

Part 2 of 9

You can start here with Part 1 in this nine-part serialized erotic fiction.

The restaurant was quiet, the lights low. I sipped my martini and tried to focus on the music while his fingers traced lines along the insides of my thigh.

Dinner was over, the plates cleared away, another round of drinks set up on the table before us as we watched the jazz band in the far corner. He’d shifted his chair around until he was right next to me, leaned over and whispered in my ear, “Open for me, Princess.”

I shuddered and obeyed, opening my legs. I sipped the cool vodka, feeling the warmth between my thighs growing, my eyes darting around to see if anyone else was watching. The place was packed, the tables not that far apart, but by the grace of God or his specific desires, we had occupied a place near the back, a corner table. The place itself was cozy, dark, romantic. It had a vibe that harkened back to the old speakeasies of days gone by, and I’d immediately felt a rush when we walked in. This was the kind of place where one did dirty deeds and the staff and other patrons just looked the other way.

Or they watched.

“Wider, my darling. Open for me. I want to see you.”

I knew what he meant, and I felt the flush in my cheeks, the rush of adrenaline as I opened my legs wider. The little black dress rode up, and I felt the cool air of the evening on my pussy. I forced myself to look straight ahead, to focus on the singer and her dulcet tones, let them draw me in. She leaned into the microphone, cupping it like a lover, the band in shadow behind her, and cast her voice out over the crowd as if she were casting a spell. I steadied myself, feeling the power of her song and the moment. Then I took another sip, found my glass empty.

“Mmmm, baby needs another drink,” he said with a smile, tracing lines higher up my thigh now, teasing, so close to the throbbing need that was enveloping me. “Let’s get you another, Princess. It’s going to be a long night.”

I took a deep breath, his fingers lingering near my clit, then sliding down either side of my desperation. So close. The song faded into the background now, just a dull hum. I could barely see him motion to the waitress, his hand a blur. Somewhere in my tunnel vision, my mind rapt with his finger stroking my swollen lips, I saw her form move into view, fuzzy. Heard her voice, a low rumble like thunder in the distance.

I blinked, looked up, found her eyes riveted on mine.

His fingers slid inside me just as he leaned over, his face inches away, his words aimed at the pretty little redhead. My breath caught in my throat, my entire body tensing at the sudden invasion, the cascading waves of pleasure after being denied so long. The redhead nodded, barely acknowledging his smile. Then she was gone, his fingers gone, my pussy clenching around empty air.

“Soon, Princess. Soon,” he whispered, shifting, moving closer until I could feel his breath on my ear. “Will you cum for me tonight, my darling?”

I swallowed, gathering myself. “Yes, please, if you like.” My voice was barely more than air.

“If I want you to cum.”

“If you want me to cum, yes. Yes, sir," I said, trembling. My eyes sought his, but I turned away from him as if he was the sun.

“I’ve denied you maybe too long. No touching, no orgasms, just the tease.” His fingers slid across my thigh again, and I felt the goose flesh follow, my pussy clenching and releasing, clenching and releasing, begging in its own silent voice for his fingers, his tongue, his perfect cock. “Just riding the edge for me, Princess. So close, so very close,“ he whispered as his finger found my clit, and I clenched my teeth, pressed my lips together to prevent the moan that fought to burst forth and mingle with the music. “Will you ride the edge for me tonight?”

I shuddered as he teased me, his fingers, the deep growl of his voice in my ear, the hint of his cologne invading my body in every way. I opened my mouth to reply, but the words weren’t there. Empty, aching, my whole universe falling into the swirling rhythm of his thumb as it circled my clit.

“Maybe then, if you can’t answer now, maybe you can beg later.”

I nodded, afraid to open my mouth again, fearing that there would be nothing again, nothing at all, that his fingers had silenced me completely.

“I know you’ll beg. Such a pretty sound you make when you beg for me, Princess. It’s music to my ears when you sing your need to me, the melody of your aching cunt, the harmony of your moans. It’s a ballad, an ode, a love song you sing to my cock as it opens you. I want to hear your lyrics when I push you to the highest highs, the lowest lows. Will you sing for me tonight, Princess? That beautiful song I like?”

I sat there in the seat, legs open, as the server swung back by with my drink. I didn’t see her set it on the table, didn’t see her eyes flashing from his face to mine, then crawling down my body and lingering on the trembling flesh there, gleaming in the low light, our song hovering in the air between us.