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WARNING!  This text file contains sexually explicit material.  If you do
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   D/s, fellatio
   Just a little blowjob in a car...  secondself@gmx.com
   It was time.  Her nails were freshly done, the deep red with hints of
black, brown, and magenta she knew he would love.  She took the bustier
from the box, layers of tissue cradling it.  Same color as her nails.  She
shivered to think that she would wear it, bearing her breasts over the top.
Fastening it behind her was a struggle but she breathed slowly and
carefully, as she fastened each hook and eye up the back.  Done.  smooth,
boned, a very posture-demanding piece of clothing.  The garters dangled
from no fewer than eight places, a special request to the seamstress.  She
loved the sensation of the elastic against her skin, especially her rump,
where she felt most exposed.  Sometimes, he would run his fingers
underneath the elastic, as she held her breath, waiting for the SNAP!  that
never came.  As usual, the threat was more profound.  He knew her very
well, knew that her mind would transport her to places her body desired. 
He kept her off balance, knowing that she would NEVER get bored that way.
   Stockings.  The best part.  As she extracted the black hose from the
drawer, she felt her body respond.  Nipples tensing, achingly hard, woman
engorging, throbbing.  The feel of the silk through her hands as she opened
the box, her skin prickled knowing how they would feel as they encased her
legs, freshly shaven.  She moved the silk trifle across her chest, the
feather softness teasing her nipple, evoking a moan from her perfectly
painted lips.  The top of the stocking had a keyhole in the back, and
beneath it, all the way down, a single seam.  She carefully threaded first
one then the other leg into the hose, loving the contrast of black hose on
her pale flesh.  Standing to fasten the garters she was embarrassed almost
by her body's response.  She stepped into soft black leather pumps, feeling
her ass pout out as she stood in the heels.  She checked carefully in the
mirror to ensure that the seams were precisely straight.
   She regarded her whole self in the mirror.  Black hair, short, a bit of
softness.  Curves on the silhouette of her body.  She loved the fullness of
her hips where the bustier ended.  Her full breasts spilled over the
bustier, and made her blush.  She knew she would spend the night feeling
like a harlot.  He would see her shame in her eyes and it would ignite him.
   She walked to the closet and found the dress.  A 1940s style with a high
collar and cuffs on the sleeves, made from burgundy red raw silk.  It had
rhinestone buttons, small, round, all the way from neck to hem, which
landed midway between her knees and ankles.  The fabric was soft but the
collar stood up in back.  At a fast glance one might think her a striking
woman out in a formal cocktail dress.  The discerning eye would note that
the full skirt had three places in the gathers where the seams were open
from the waistline to hem, both sides, and the back, providing HIM with
complete access to her whenever He chose.
   One last check of her hair, makeup, and jewelry, simple diamond studs
and a necklace fashioned after the buttons, a globe of diamonds, on a long
chain that nearly disappeared into her cleavage.  As instructed, she left
the buttons of her dress unbuttoned midway down her chest, and halfway up
her thighs.  She prayed that the wind wasn't blowing, for she knew if he
saw her trying to cover herself, he would be displeased, indeed.  She felt
her body alive, afire in anticipation.  Her pulse quickened as she imagined
the possibilities.  She prayed that she would please him.
   A little dab of pink lipstick on her bottom lip to accentuate a pout, a
brief spritz of his favorite perfume, and she stepped into the night.
   And into a weekend evening on 50th and Lex.  She breathed in the sounds
of the city and began hailing cabs as they zipped downtown.  So intent she
was on finding the cab, she did not hear him.  She felt his body behind her
and his leather gloved hand as it expertly found one of the open seams. 
One hand on her neck held her still as the other caressed and explored. 
"Feeling a little exposed, my dear?" he murmured in her ear.
   "I'll take that as a rhetorical question." she said as she felt the air
hitting her naked behind.  He laughed at her sassy remark and said,
"Touche."
   He offered her his arm and nodded at Josef, his limo driver, who leaned
against his car.  She'd been intent looking at cabs heading downtown, and
didn't even stop to look at the limo, which was parked further up the
street.  Josef tipped his cap to her as Evan handed her in and followed
her.
   The lush edgy tones of Carmina Burana filled the limo.  The music always
made her think of and need sex, raw, hard, wild.
   "How does it feel, Lise?  Seriously.  I'm curious." He looked at her
with a slight grin, those damned intense eyes pouring into her soul.
   She blushed and said, "I love the fabrics, the feel of the corset, the
garters.  I love the pieces, they are sensuous and I feel very sexy.  What
I love most, though, is the lust and satisfaction I see in your eyes, of
course, Evan."
   The smile got a bit bigger.  "Well spoken, Lise.  And, if you wanted to
bring an even greater look of satisfaction to my face, what might you do?"
   She studied his serious face.  Not in a hurry to reply, she raised an
eyebrow and smiled slightly, then touched his square jaw, tracing a finger
down his dress shirt, across his chest, where her lacquered nail found and
gently teased his nipple until he leaned his head back and moaned softly.
She put her hands behind her back and replied, "It would be my honor to
serve you.  May I?"
   He leaned back against the seat, staring at her, slowly slipped out of
his gloves and unzipped his trousers.  His thick manhood sprung forth and
she gently sucked the tip into her mouth.  He rested a hand on the back of
her head, a simple act that immediately called forth a surge of wetness
between her legs.  In the back of her mind she began worrying whether she'd
make a stain on her dress when she sat later.
   Anticipating the same, he said, "Wait, Lise, a moment.  Lift up." She
did, and he swept away her dress so that her naked bottom sat on the soft
leather seat.  She lay her head in his lap again and took him in.
   She kept her lips firm on the tip, and began, with excruciating
slowness, to suck in a tiny bit more of his manhood with each move of her
head.  Rhythmically, inching up, dreamlike, she worked her way so that his
staff reached the back of her throat.  She smelled his musk, and waited. 
She loved holding his hardness inside of her and feeling his pulse beating.
She gazed into his almost-closed eyes and watched, knowing that soon her
would force her.  She LOVED that moment, when the strength of his fingers
on her head would telegraph his desire, his need, and the force of his
will.
   The strains of Orff's "O'Fortuna" swelled as he growled and said, "Damn
it, Lise, DO IT!" His hand gripped her head and PUSHED her down.
   Her throat and jaw strained to open.  She took him in, unable to
breathe, but no matter.  His hand held her fast and he began flexing
himself up and back, fucking her throat, single mindedly.  Her brain called
out to him what her voice could not, "Use me, please..."
   His hand lifted her dress, and played with her garter and her bottom,
petting, sliding his fingers under the straps, lifting them and letting
them smack her behind.  He reached further down, tracing the garter to the
top of the stocking, all the while holding her head on his phallus, pushing
into her, over and over.
   He let her breathe for one stroke, then pushed her back down.  Harder
now, he fucked into her throat, "Yes, pet, take all me.  Swallow my gift,"
he moaned.
   She felt his cock grow as he got closer, and she pushed herself harder
onto him.  He came fast and copiously, jetting his gift deep down her
throat.  More and more, she swallowed every drop.
   He held her against him as he relaxed and softened.  Finally, his hand
relaxed and she sat up eyes overrun with tears.  He handed her a
handkerchief, and she and thanked him.
   He kissed her softly and adjusted himself, zipping his trousers.  "Thank
you, too.  Take a moment to right your makeup, pet, we will be at the
restaurant directly."
   She located her bag and repaired her face, hungry, so hungry, for more.
   
  
Into the Night