Starlight 7

The hour was late and the night cool and clear. Even in the city she could see Venus, and glimpses of the stars of the northern sky.

She thought herself bathed in starlight.

The room is still, silent. It feels a different night to the opera and late night supper only hours and minutes earlier.

Over dinner they had spoken like the old friends they were. He made her laugh and relax. He was the perfect gentleman, as promised. A reassuring hand on the small of her back as he guided her from Opera house to cab to their discreet table. His big calloused hand resting on hers as she told an anecdote, his thumb absentmindedly stroking her soft pale skin. His fingertips danced with hers in a playful quadrille.

And then, what she was expecting, dreading, longing for. He didn't visibly change but she knew him well enough to know he was steering the conversation in a particular way.

She held his gaze. Maybe it was the champagne but she was not going to blush and duck her head with a whispered apology.

"I hope you're not so gentle with me in private. I want to feel like you're truly in charge of me. And I'm yours to do with as you please. "

"I need to be fucked. I need to feel something. I need to not be in control, I want you to.... why are you making me say this? You know what I want." She cursed herself as she blushed and broke his gaze, her words left trailing in the air.

But she had said enough and when the question came she was able to say a "Yes" in a voice more confident than she felt.

And now she was here. In his hotel suite, alone. For now. And the squiffy, flirtatious woman of earlier was gone, replaced by a shy girl questioning what she was doing, fearing she didn't belong here and was about to embarrass herself.

His instructions were simple.

Go to the room. Relax, make yourself comfortable. The outfit I have chosen for you is laid out on the bed.

Get changed. Get ready for me. There is wine if you need it. I will have one drink in the bar and return in 30 minutes, with champagne. I will knock, once.

You know how I expect you to be when I enter.

A delicate confection of silk and soft lace was laid out on the bed.

Just follow instructions. Yes. I can do that.

Her hands shook as she tried to fasten the suspender clip to the stockings, as she pulled the silk panties over the straps.

She tugged the hem of her panties a little more than required, and savoured the friction of the cool silk against her pussy.

God she was wet

.

Adjusting the cups the lace rubbed against her nipples. She adjusted them again, inhaled, and exhaled.

He was due. She began the final, unspoken task.

She began to perform for him. For all the nerves and insecurities she knew she could perform. And suspected that was exactly why he had instructed her to begin with a performance. And as she performed the fear dropped away and she became a creature of pure desire.

When the door opened. She was kneeling up on the bed, her back straight, head up proudly, curls tumbling down her back. One hand between smooth thighs, teasing her clit through the silk, luxuriating in the moment. She raised her other hand to caress each nipple in turn against the delicate lace till they stood erect, full of blood. Her throat flushed, lips parted, eyes sparkling emeralds.

She met his gave and held it.

"Yes Sir. I'm ready."

He moved toward her with the poise of a panther, brushed a lock of hair from her eyes and kissed her.

Hours later, when she was finally sated and he spent, she lay on his chest, an arm wrapped around her as he slept, his thumb still in her mouth. He had boasted he would be the finest pillow she had ever known, she would sleep on his heartbeat. But a lifetime of insomnia is not so easily banished. So she lay and thought of the stars above, and the man sleeping below her. Her Hades.

This hotel room would have to be vacated in a few hours, and the unseen stars that wheeled above were not the stars of her youth. But she was finally home.