I meet you, as arranged, at a secluded table in the hotel bar. You sit there wearing an outfit designed to tease and please me: a red leather miniskirt, a white silk blouse, and red leather pumps – “fuck me pumps”, you like to call them – with 5-inch heels. The white silk of the blouse almost glows luminously against the tan of your smooth skin, and your nipples are hard against the caress of the soft fabric. You didn’t wear a bra, did you? Naughty girl. And I’m willing to bet a peek beneath your miniskirt would reveal…well, we’ll get to that soon enough, won’t we?
Your full lips gently suck the dregs of your drink through a straw, stained now with lipstick as red and unashamedly sexual as the leather miniskirt that is riding dangerously high on your tanned thighs. Men at neighbouring tables are doing their best to stare without being obvious. But it’s a losing battle. You always draw lecherous looks when you’re out with me. That’s the way I want it. You are my slut, after all. My private whore. My eager cunt. My Ashley.
It’s only been a few weeks since you surrendered yourself to me; allowed the horny slut within you to finally come out and play. I shake my head in bemusement…if your husband only knew what his conservative, faithful wife got up to when he was away on business…
“Let’s go, slut”, I say, extending my hand and helping you rise from the small lounge table. Your eyes flash with excitement to be called that in public. Did anyone hear? I hope so, because a slut is what you are. A marvelous, daring slut…and you’re mine to command.
The elevator doors slide shut and we begin our assent to our suite on the twentieth floor. We’re alone, except for him. Sales, I think. You can just spot the sales guys. Everyone else at this hotel is here to soak up the Miami sun and this guy’s sweltering in his suit and tie. Been there, done that. But right now I’ve got another man’s wife on my arm, dressed like a high-class whore and grinding her crotch against my leg. Life’s a bitch, ain’t it?
Ding! Tenth floor. The doors open for Mister Salesguy to leave, and, feeling generous, I reach down and lift the hem of your miniskirt to your waist, giving him a good look at your pouting, shaved pussy. Oh, I love the way guys’ heads whip around every time I do this.
Seizing the moment, you purr “Room 2014. Have a nice day”, giving the poor guy a wanton wink. And it’s all I can do not to laugh at the look on his face as the elevator doors close. You have a wonderfully slutty mind, Ashley, and it excites me to know the pleasure you feel when I lift your red leather skirt to display your pussy and ass to that stranger. Your exhibitionist tendencies have certainly wasted no time in coming to the forefront of our relationship. You love it when I display your body for the pleasure of others.
However, Ashley, my sweet, seductive slut...I think teasing the poor guy by letting him know our room number is a perfectly wicked thing to do...that's my girl. No wonder you and I get along so well. We have the same horny minds.
You and I arrive at our room and walk to the open balcony. You lean your hips against the railing, your back to me and your legs spread apart as you survey the sun-drenched Miami beach and deep blue water of the ocean 20 floors below us. It's a Saturday afternoon and the beach is crowded with people, enjoying the water and sunshine.
I walk up behind you as you continue gazing out at the ocean, and you feel my hand sliding up the inside of your left thigh, slipping up beneath your red leather skirt so that my fingers can lightly rub against the outer lips of your pussy. Mmmmmm. You're moist with passion, my beautiful whore. I can tell that the encounter with the stranger on the elevator has turned you on. And I like that. I want you turned on as much as possible.
There's a knock at our door. I wonder...
"Answer the door, Ashley", I whisper in your ear, my fingers still caressing your cunt. You moan softly in disappointment, not wanting to break the contact with my hand. "Do as I say, slut, and you will be rewarded", I insist. And you smile, knowing that my rewards are always so pleasurable for both of us.
As you leave the balcony and walk to the door, I call after you. "Wait a moment. Take off your blouse first."
You stop and turn towards me, hesitating for a moment too long. I stride towards you, my hands reaching into the collar of your thin blouse. "Take it off, Ashley", I repeat softly but firmly, "or I'll take it off for you. And we wouldn't want to tear such a pretty blouse, would we?"
"N...no", you reply quietly, yet trustingly. You know that I would never harm you or let you come to harm, but still, you also know that you enjoy the thrill of surrendering to my control at times like this...and I will do with you as I please. That thought excites and arouses you greatly.
The knocking at the door continues as you unbutton your blouse, letting it drop to the floor and revealing your breasts and hard nipples. You gasp slightly as the cool ocean breeze hits your nipples, making them crinkle and stiffen excitedly. "Now...go see who it is, Ashley."
You stand at the door, dressed only in your sexy red leather miniskirt and a pair of high black stiletto heels. Your legs and breasts are naked for anyone to see. Which is exactly what I want, slut. I want people to see my sexy, horny slut for what she is...my personal sex toy.
Nervously excited, you open the door. And he is standing there. The man from the elevator. He looks shocked and unsure, his face reflecting conflicting emotions of sexual arousal and hesitance.
Whatever he was expecting, he probably wasn't thinking he'd be greeted at the door by a half-naked slut. His eyes slowly look you over and you can feel his gaze like a caress from your "fuck me" stiletto heels, up the creamy skin of your legs...is that a droplet of pussy juice he sees sliding down your inner thigh...past the red leather of your miniskirt, up across your smooth, round breasts with their dark nipples hard with your excitement, past the elegant curve of your neck until he is gazing into your eyes. His look is a mixture of lust and disbelief.
Enjoying that feeling of sexual power, you slowly lick your full lips - a teasing promise.
"Well, don't keep the man waiting, Ashley. Let him in." You take him by his hand and lead him into our suite.
"Hi, I'm Doug", I greet him."And I see you've met Ashley. She's really something, isn't she?"
"Uh, yeah, she sure is", he responds, a little flustered, his eyes still staring at your hard nipples.
"She has a beautiful cunt, you know. Ashley, show the nice man your cunt."
"No, no, that's okay", the man stammers, "I don't want to cause any trouble."
"Oh, no trouble at all", I say, walking up next to you and lifting your chin with my hand, as if displaying a prized possession to an honored guest. "Ashley likes showing her cunt to men, don't you, darling?" And you nod submissively, barely able to speak. "Tell the nice man, Ashley. Tell him want you want to do."
Your voice barely a whisper, you look up into my eyes and respond: "I want him to look at my cunt."
"Louder, Ashley...and don't tell me, tell him. Now."
Turning your face towards him, you boldly take the next step, obeying: "I want you to look at my cunt."
"Again, slut. Tell him what you want him to do." And the stranger's eyes grow wide as he realizes that you will do exactly as I instruct you to do.
"I want you to look at my CUNT!” you almost shout, hardly believing that those words came out of your own mouth. Can this really be you, you think...can this whore with her dripping wet pussy really be the sweet, mild, oh-so-ordinary married woman your husband thinks you are? But this feels so good...so right...you want to give up control of yourself to me...to let me use you as my toy, to play with as I wish. And as your mind admits that you will submit to anything - ANYTHING - that I tell you to do, a shuddering thrill pulses up your spine, leaving your skin tingling to be touched.
"Now then, sir", I ask him, "You can plainly see that this little slut is eager to show you her pussy. So why don't you sit back on the bed there, relax, and let the slut show you. Lead the gentleman to the bed, Ashley."
And you take the stranger's hand in your own and lead him over to the king-sized bed, indicating that he should sit down on the edge.
His eyes are locked onto you as you stand there in front of him. Your hands drift down across your body, brushing against your breasts. You can see the stranger's cock swelling in his pants as you take your nipples between your fingers and give them a hard, sharp pinch. His eyes follow your hands as you bring them down across your stomach, past the waistband of the leather miniskirt and finally to rest gripping the hem.
Standing behind you to one side, I encourage you. "Go on, Ashley. Show him that sweet cunt of yours."
And your hands lift your skirt off your thighs, pulling the red leather up and up...like a curtain opening on a Broadway show...to expose your naked, shaved pussy to the stranger's vision. You cunt is bare, shaved as I ordered it to be from now on...not a single hair to hide the fleshy lips and hard nub of your clit. It's almost sinful, how young and vulnerable your cunt looks...innocent...and yet so fucking wet and dying to be touched...licked...fucked. The cunt of a whore...your cunt...Doug's cunt, to do with as he pleases. Yes. My cunt. To show off to strangers...to show them what a dirty slut you really are...the slut that you've always imagined yourself to be. And now, because of your surrender to my tender, discreet and understanding care, those fantasies are coming to delicious life.
You hear my voice behind you. "Ask him to touch it, Ashley."
"Touch my cunt." you ask the now-speechless stranger.
"Touch my cunt, what, slut?” I growl softly, anger rising warningly in my tone.
"Touch my cunt, PLEASE..." you beg, and the more you say it, the more you realize that you NEED this man to touch you, you WANT to feel his fingers inside your pussy, knowing that you will be pleasing Doug as well as this complete stranger.
