First the disclaimers, which some of you are already aware of. These are most all true, except that I do change the names of everyone but myself, and that the dialog is as I remember it, though with the time since this all happened, I am sure it's not dead on. So please forgive me my literary license on the speaking parts.
We were in Charlottesville, staying at the Boar's Head Inn. That probably wasn't far enough from Richmond for what was about to happen, but it's where we were.
By now Paul and I had been together almost six months. It was may. On our weekends away, I was accustomed to, and had come to really like the fact that he dressed me when we traveled. At first, I have to admit, it took some getting used to. But he had a good sense of what looked good on me, and I knew that whatever he dressed me in, he liked. Sometimes what he chose was soft and romantic, often dresses made of linen or white cotton or lace, with floral blouses. Sometimes, they were just flat out advertising kind of sexy, which was a little embarrassing at first, but I had come to enjoy the attention from men that came from his dressing me that way. He was particularly fond of putting me in black pencil skirts, which hug my bottom, and a corset for the top. The corsets he had bought me (except for the red one) were classy enough, but they did what a corset does, cinch in my waist, and lifted my breasts to near overflowing.
This day he had combined the looks. I was in a white lacy skirt, that was full and moved in the May breeze. And a new floral corset. We had been antiquing all day, and he had me in a low set of heeled sandals, and allowed me a small white jacket for modesty. Still, I felt pretty exposed with the corset hugging my body so tight all afternoon.
It had been a good day of poking around. He bought me a couple of things that would look lovely in my house. We held hands a lot. But I knew that he was up to something. On these trips away, I had learned, he always had something ready for me.
"Hungry?" he asked?
"Famished."
"Good. I know just the place. Lots of college boys wait on the tables. They will eat you up with their eyes."
I blushed. It amazed me, after all we had done together, all the exposure he had subjected me to already, that I could still blush. But I did. For what it's worth, even now, I still do.
"Where?"
"Ah, that's my little secret." he said. He reached into the back seat of the rental convertible, and from his camera bag, he pulled out a white scarf. He pulled the car to the side of the road, and used it to blind fold me. "Trust me?" he asked.
I had that feeling, half scared and half excited. Part of me wanting to run away, and part of me half crazy to go forward. I nodded.
We drove. Don't ask me where. To this day I don't know where. It could have been a fancy place, or just a nice place. I don't know which. But we drove, and I felt very aware of the wind, the smells of the town as we drove. He partked and came to my side of the car, opened the door, and guided me out. I held onto his arm as we walked. I can imagine what a site I must have been, if we were in a public place, and I believe we might have been. I could hear people all around. I could not help but wonder what they were thinking. This was different, some how, from the other games he had played with me. My trust faltered, but then came back. He had never taken me too far before. I had to remember that.
We went in a building. I could hear people talking and eating. I heard the receptionist ask if we had a reservation, and it turns out we did. Paul had obviously planned this ahead. He led me to a table, then pulled on my jacket. I moved my arms so it would come off before I thought about it or realized that now I was in my skirt and corset in the middle of a college town restaurant. He sat me in my chair. As if he were reading my mind, he said, "Yes, a lot of them are looking you over from head to toe.". I felt myself blushing again.
We had a delightful dinner. Paul fed me, which was novel and fun. We had wine with dinner, a lot of wine in fact. Paul described different men who could not seem to help but look at me. "But the one who can hardly control himself is our waiter." he said. "Even in his loose docker, the poor boy has a hard on."
I don't think of myself as a couger, but at forty couple, I had to admit to a thrill knowing had a young man excited. "And..." I asked.
"And, he looks quite large." Paul said. "Maybe this is the night."
I gasped quietly. We had been talking about my having another man for some time. The conversation had ranged from pillow talk and fantasy that often led to some pretty steamy sex, to serious talk. I had been "shared" once by my ex husband and while that night of sex was AMAZING, it had also led to all kinds of jealousy that had in the end, ruined our marriage. My ex just never got that while the sex that night had been incredible, it was him I loved, not the stranger in my bed. I didn't want that to happen with Paul. The six months with Paul had been amazing. I didn't want to risk that.
But Paul was someone very different from my ex. His confidence ran deeper. And by the way he had seen my inner sexually submissiveness from the beginning, and had brought me so very far in such a shirt while, I felt that probably he would be fine. But I had to ask. "Are you sure?"
"I think you are ready." he said.
"Are you?"
"I've been ready." he said. "And this boy is smitten, and like I said, obviously large."
