Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 23140 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 116(@200wpm)___ 93(@250wpm)___ 77(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 23140 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 116(@200wpm)___ 93(@250wpm)___ 77(@300wpm)
After all, the next morning, I went on a Google binge. I had to find out what all those crazy things I saw were! Some of what I read on those fetish threads was terrifying, and I know I would never want to partake in that kind of intercourse. Sadism, contortion, personality submission to an ugly, ogre-like Dom … all of that is definitely not my thing.
But some things I read about were clarifying and lifted my imagination to a new plane. After all, making love with Clay was rough and dirty, but we weren’t necessarily doing anything outrageous. Yet there was a thrill, and it felt like I was riding a high. I loved being watched, and knowing that other peoples’ eyes were on my full breasts and wet pussy. I liked knowing that others enjoyed watching my coffee pucker being penetrated, stretching almost painfully to allow Clay inside.
Plus, seeing other people in the room around me definitely got me in the mood. I liked hearing the moans, as well as witnessing the naughtiness, and my temperature went up as others around me writhed and panted with ecstasy. But yet, there are limits too. Although I enjoy exhibitionism and voyeurism, I don’t necessarily want anyone else to touch me. I don’t want anybody to sample my body except for the man I’m with.
With a secret smile, I look in the mirror. My cheeks are flushed and my eyes glowing. I feel vulnerable as an exhibitionist, but that’s part of the allure. It opens up new vistas, and therefore a whole new level of arousal and pleasure, and I can’t wait to do it again.
But tonight, Clay and I are embarking on a completely different kind of experience. A more normal one, per se. Clay is taking me to an upscale restaurant in Midtown Manhattan called the Left Bank. I looked up the restaurant during my break this afternoon and was blown away when I realized that it’s probably one of the nicest dining establishments in NYC. The prices were outrageous, and the photos of the food to die for.
As a result, I’m taking special pains as I get ready. I lightly dust shadow on my lids, making my eyes appear larger and more awake. My curls lay in a shimmering mass over my shoulders and a plum lipstick emphasizes my pout. Then, I slip into a blue velvet cocktail dress that rarely leaves the back of my closet, careful of course to not cause any creasing as I shimmy it up over my voluptuous hips. Perfect. The fabric skims my curves without being trampy, but also highlights my generous décolletage, hugging the gentle swells with care.
A silver studded bracelet and a pair of matching blue heels complete the picture, and I smile at the girl in the mirror. Clay’s never seen me all dolled up before, and I want to be sure he knows I can be multi-faceted. I can be a sweet candy shop salesgirl; a naughty playmate who enjoys exhibitionism; and a charming, elegant lady on the town too. How does the saying go? Ah yes, a lady in the street, but a freak between the sheets. That’s me.
I hear a car approaching and quickly look out the window. Sure enough, the blue Porsche is approaching my building, and I scamper down three flights in two seconds to meet Clay on the sidewalk. Quite a few of my neighbors are out, and they gawk with surprise, but I don’t care. I get to go to five-star restaurants with this handsome billionaire, not to mention underground sex parties, and I don’t mind if the neighbors hate me one bit.
I climb into Clay’s car, careful again not to wrinkle my dress.
“You look gorgeous,” he growls, his eyes running up and down my form so thoroughly that I go hot.
I smile.
“Thank you. Blue is my favorite color.”
“Hmm, mine used to be green, but I think it’s blue now,” he grins before revving the car and pulling away from the curb.
I giggle and playfully slap at his forearm.
“Oh you!” I exclaim. “Always trying to butter me up.”
Clay shoots me a hungry sideways glance.
“You’re right,” he growls. “I love my sweet rolls with butter, and especially if she’s got cream leaking out.”
OMG, his innuendos are so cheesy, but funny too! I giggle again, and then we’re off. The city rolls by, but I don’t see it because I’m merely enjoying the company of this handsome man as he makes me laugh over and over again.
Pretty soon, we’ve pulled up in front of the Left Bank, and a valet comes forward to take our keys. Clay slips a heavy arm around my waist as we enter the restaurant, and his possession thrills me to my core. I love knowing that he sees me as his, and that he wants to announce it to the world as well.