The second bottle of wine has already been emptied into our glasses, the server sensing ours is a table best left alone from the way we go quiet when she checks on us. With the plates cleared and the glasses full, he slips out of his side of the booth and over to mine, pressing his leg up against me, letting his hand casually fall onto my knee as he tells me the slit in my skirt doesn't quite go high enough for his liking.
Under the table, he skates his hand up my leg, under my skirt, fingertips lightly brushing over the ridges of the fishnets I carefully chose hours earlier. He pauses for a moment as they cross from the lace edges of the stockings to the warm skin of my thigh.
"Was that for me?" he asks, dropping your voice low, leaning closer.
I shrug my shoulders and smirk slightly.
He tsks me and shakes his head, admonishing my cheekiness as he pushes my legs further apart and runs my thumb over my panties, causing a sharp intake of breath. The feather touch on my clit makes it impossible for me to stop from pushing my hips up against his hand, hoping for more.
I'm looking at him when he pulls it away, slides it back down over the stockings to rest on my knee again. Leaning closer, he whispers into my ear.
"Patience, kitten."
The night is far from over, he says, skimming that same hand up over my waist, the slope of my breast, my nipple and up to my neck, which I throw back. He leaves his hand there for a moment, feeling my pulse under his thumb before brushing it over my lips. I part them and his thumb slides in to my warm mouth, tongue running over the tip.
He turns to wave down the server for the bill.
We tumble from the restaurant and into a cab. I'm waiting for him to kiss me hard while he gives the address to his hotel, but instead he presses his lips against the base of my throat, taking my hand and telling me he won't touch me again until we get there. He's going to make me wait.
In the elevator, though, he pushes me up against the back wall, kisses me hard, rucks up my skirt with one hand, the other tangling into my hair. Hooking one finger into the edge of my lace thong panties, he pulls them aside, sliding it between the lips, grazing the clit and then lower until it's just about to slip inside me. I push my hips against his hand, kiss back bruisingly. But you stop, tauntingly, just far enough away.
"Please, Daddy," I whisper.
"Not yet," he says, and puts his lips to the base of my throat. "Patience, kitten."
Then the doors open and he leads me down the hall, swiftly unlocking the door and closing it behind us, spinning me around so my back is against it.
"Don't move," he says, stepping back to look me over, taking in the tight-fitting sweater, pencil skirt and stiletto patent heels. My red lipstick is smeared slightly from the hard kiss in the elevator, my chest rising and falling quickly as I try to anticipate the next move. He's looking me right in the eyes, but I still can't guess what will happen next.
So, I take a step forward.
He tsks me again and presses his body against mine, hard against the door so I can't move. Kissing his way down my neck, unbuttoning my cardigan as he goes, tugging it off my body and letting it drop to the floor. The colder air in the room causes a wash of goosebumps across my pale skin, nipples hardening to push against my sheer black bra. He continues to kiss a path down my body, over my rounded breasts, down between them and on as he reaches behind me to unzip my skirt. It falls to the floor with a subtle whoosh, puddling around my heels.
I start to lift one leg to kick it out of the way, but he looks at me as he growls, "I said, don't move, kitten."
Instead, I lean back against the cold door and close my eyes so I can concentrate on what he's doing. He's kissed his way past my navel, over the black lace thong and to the tops of my thighs, framed by the fishnet stockings, pale skin sharply contrasted by the black mesh.
Kneeling now, he brushes his thumb once again over my pussy, harder now. Still with the thong acting as a thin barrier between his hand and my desire, his thumb runs up and down the furrow between my lips, pausing to run small circles over my clit, making me moan slightly, beggingly.
"Tell me what you want," he says, as his thumb continues to graze over my panties.
"Please," is all I can muster.
"What. Do. You. Want?" He stops his thumb, just resting it lightly, tauntingly.
"Please. I need your mouth on me. Now. Please."
"Was that so hard, kitten?" he asks, pushing aside my thong and slowly running his tongue up my pussy and over my clit.
I can't stop myself from pushing my hips forward, knees almost buckling at the sensation of tongue on cunny. I run my own hands up my body to my breasts, pinching and pulling at my hard nipples while he sends shivers through me with his tongue.
"These are just getting in the way," he announces, sliding my thong off, letting me kick it aside once it reaches my feet. "Take off your bra."
I unhook it and let it fall to the floor to join my skirt, leaving me in just my stilettos and fishnet stockings.
He's still completely dressed in his suit. But then he stands up and begins to loosen his tie, pulling it free from his shirt as he tells me to turn around, press my cheek to the door and rest my hands at the small of my back. Winding the silk tie around my wrists, he knots it tightly and then turns me back around so they are pinned to the door. Kissing me hard, I can taste myself on his tongue.
All I can think about is his cock inside me, and that need grows as he begins to rub my clit with two fingers, resting your thumb at the opening of my cunny.
"Please Daddy?" I can barely get the words out.
He steps back, shrugs off his coat and lays it carefully over one of the two chairs inside the room. Unbuttoning his shirt slightly, he settles down into the chair.
I haven't left my spot against the door, finally following the instruction not to move.
