My heart skipped a beat when I saw him come in. Finally. I had never been good at idle chit chat with total strangers. His colleagues seemed nice enough, but I had been waiting for him to show up. Our eyes met across the room. Blood rushed to my loins. His gaze was firm and hard, not loving and sweet as it sometimes is. I knew immediately what kind of mood he was in and that I'd better do what he wanted or I'd suffer later.
He took his time to get to me, all the way at the back of the room, greeting work mates and their partners along the way. His eyes were never off me for too long. I felt as though I was nailed to the floor. I knew I was to stand still so that he could take in what I looked like. Every time he looked at me, his eyes lingered on another part of my body: my bulging cleavage, my tiny waist highlighted by the tight, black dress, my full legs under the slightly-too-short skirt, where, only a few inches higher, my bare pussy was pulsing, longing for his touch.
When he finally reached me, he greeted me by reaching underneath my long, hazel, wavy hair, taking a handful of hair in his fist and using it to pull me into the corridor to the restroom, only a few metres from where I had been standing. He pushed me against the wall and put his other hand on my throat, while still pulling at my hair. My pussy was instantly wet. His bright blue eyes forced themselves onto mine. He didn't say anything. I wanted nothing more than for him to kiss me.
But he didn't look at my pulsing, red lips. Not at my heaving tits. Not at my skimpy dress. Just into my eyes. Making me feel his power over me. Making sure I knew where my place was. Suddenly, he let go of me and averted his gaze. I clumsily stumbled to the floor. He didn't even look at me. He left me there, on the floor, and went back into the crowded room.
I lingered in the corridor for a moment, to regain my composure. My juices had started dripping down my thighs. I knew better than to clean them up. I slowly followed him back into the room, as the bell rang for everyone to take a seat at the dinner table. I meekly followed him to a seat with his name on it. I could smell my pussy juices as I sat down next to him. I wondered if anyone else could.
As the entrees were served, I smiled and tried to engage in the conversation, but all I could think about was that I wanted his fingers inside of me. He didn't seem to be paying attention to me at all. He had a lively debate about the virtues of golf with a balding man on his right. Dessert came with a live swing band and the possibility of dancing. He would never take to the dancefloor. Not in a place like this.
He saw me looking at the dancing couples in envy. It was the first time since the corridor that he had looked at me. He put his hands on my thighs and had to have felt how wet they were. But he didn't move his hand closer to my wet cunt. Instead, he leaned closer to whisper something in my ear, "Stand up and give three guys here an erection. Don't come back until you have done so."
My cheeks turned bright red at his orders. He looked me in the eye again and I nodded. "Yes master," I whispered.
"Good," he went back to his conversation about golf.
I got up from the table hesitantly. I wasn't really sure how to go about this. Everyone on the dancefloor was coupled up. As I reached the dancefloor, a song just finished and one of the women went back to her seat. She had been dancing with a fairly ordinary-looking man in his late forties, who had clearly had a few too many glasses of wine. I scooped in without even asking and started dancing with him. I pushed my ample bosom against his chest, which he clearly enjoyed, but I realised he wasn't drunk enough for it to be as easy as that.
I saw my master looking at me from across the room. He licked some dessert off his fingers and I desperately wanted them inside of me. I plucked up my courage and in a swift move, freed one of my tits from the restraints of the dress. My nipple danced around wildly as if freed from a cage as I pretended not to notice what had happened. I was dancing close enough to the man to feel the bulge in his pants, revealing that he had indeed noticed. I let him enjoy the view for a few seconds longer, before I ran back to the corridor to the restroom in feigned embarrassment.