I should have known the first time he coerced my legs open and masturbated my clit until I came, while the exorbitantly-tipped waitstaff of the restaurant remained oblivious to his libidinous activities amid the smells and sounds of upscale dining. After I came, he told me to sit with my legs open wide during the remainder of the entire meal. Our table faced near a wall, where a single male diner witnessed the debauchery of my lover. As the gentleman stood up to pay for his meal, my lover told me, "Go over to him, hug him and press your breasts against him firmly. Walk outside and get into the coach waiting. Say nothing. Do as I say."
My heart in my eyes for him, I obeyed. The man's startled expression soon turned to appreciation for my 34DDD breasts pressed against his body, his hands pressing my waist to his length, and his erection into my pelvic bone. I met his gaze briefly, smiled shyly and looked away. I walked slowly to the door, felt his heat still clinging to my body, a souvenir from his hungry hold on me.
There was a maroon and white trimmed coach with 2 white horses at the ready as he said there would be. The door was opened by a liveried gentleman whose blank expression did little to assuage my misgivings. My new lover was indeed spontaneous, passionate and quite lavishly spoiling me, I thought to myself, sinking back into the almost flesh like soft leather seats. The seat almost reached up around me. I noticed lovely brass fittings and fixtures, reminiscent of gas lights and baroque style accents, almost like antique door knockers hung symmetrically along either side of the carriage. The perfume of the fresh cut flowers in the crystal vases in the back window of the carriage intoxicated my senses. The spicy scent of the horse lent the evening an even more primal tinge.
All my senses over-stimulated, I absorbed further details of the lovely carriage. The floor was upholstered in a very thick padding, like tufted cushions, also of the soft leathery material. Everything was maroon and white and gold. I closed my eyes and basked in the richness of the sumptuous depths of the leather.
The carriage rocked when I felt his familiar aura call to me; he climbed up; the door knockers jangled and jingled across the top with the voices of chimes. I sat up in the center back seat where apprehension sat upon my mind lightly before, was now lounging upon my senses rather voluptuously. His familiar fingers motioned the man into the seat at the left window, my lover took possession of the right. The stranger looked at me and his eyes disintegrated my clothing; his body heat radiated to fill the night air of the carriage. I looked over at my lover and his affection sang to my spirit. He knocked and the carriage began to rock, the chorus of the chimes, sparkling along our path. The horse was drawing the carriage into the night, and my destiny, encased so lovingly within the opulence, was a passive passenger.
"Griffin, I tell you, her breasts are perfect. Her nipples look like small roses on pale snow."
He smiled to me and motioned to my top and motioned downwards. I was shocked and scared and in fully in love with his expressive features. Trembling, I stared into his deep dark black eyes and saw the reflection of my fingers baring my white breasts to this stranger's lust. His melodious voice spoke to the man but his eyes mastered mine; I couldn't look away. I felt the man staring at my breasts and he swallowed loudly repeatedly and his breathing became louder and raspier.
"Griff, do you want to touch her breasts? Hold them in your hands; taste them with your tongue?"
"How old is she, Malcolm?"
"She's 23. I have her driver's license right here." He flipped my pink rosebud bag open and fished out my license. He nodded to me and smiled drily.
