one-more-night-one-more-task
EXHIBITIONIST VOYEUR

One More Night One More Task

One More Night One More Task

by nerdynymph
19 min read
4.7 (4300 views)
adultfiction

"Beautiful view. The skyline, also."

It was just like my mistress to be cheeky while I was so worked up. Four days now. Four days into my visit to Austin to see friends. Four days of mistress sending me requests to take sneaky photos of myself being naughty in public. Four days of tension, of not being allowed to touch myself.

This side of me was largely kept hidden from anyone. On the outside, I was an unassuming woman with a completely unremarkable life. My work as an IT technician at an accountant agency kept the lights on while being the sort of thing that nobody wanted to hear about at parties. My interests weren't anything outside the norm. I liked mini-golf and Bruno Mars. The most out-there of my tastes was trying to get my friends to watch Republic of Doyle, a procedural detective show that was...Canadian. Wild stuff.

When I was with her, though, that all changed.

She'd introduced me to so much. To beautiful fear. To sweet pain. To a boldness that I never knew I had in me. My sex life before her was completely unrecognizable. Making efforts to please others, being only occasionally rewarded in return. The word "sex" should not refer to both activities, they were so far removed from each other.

This trip, my Austin friends had been given the briefest glimpse of the me that she had made. The renaissance faire that we annually attended was no stranger to women showing cleavage. Neckline-enhancing corsets were so ubiquitous they should have had a listing on the event's website. I'd never participated before, but, this year, on mistress's orders, I showed up wearing an outfit skimpy enough to attract attention. My friends were even more shocked when, after a few samples of ale and my queen's encouragement, I found myself making out with a bard we'd just met that afternoon.

Now, here I was, on the last day of my trip, as the sun began to set, taking a picture of myself, the beautiful river and city skyline, a jeweled butt plug visibly inserted. One of many photos of me exposing myself requested by my mistress.

I waited for her response, fingers tapping nervously on the park bench on which I'd sat to take my selfie. Eventually, the distinctive tone she'd selected to signify her texts rang out, and I fumbled for my phone.

"Good girl. Now remove the plug."

My eyes darted back and forth. It was late on a weekday. The park was fairly low-traffic, but I was still nervous about the request. Hands shaking, I leaned over just enough to gain access, before drawing the toy out inch by agonizing inch. The small plug slipped free, and I hastily threw it into the pocket of my purse. Looking around again to make sure I was still in the clear, I took a picture of the plug, still wet with lube, in my bag, sending it to my mistress.

A text followed shortly. "Very good."

My heart fluttered with anxious pride as my core pulsed with lustful need. The trip was almost over. Tomorrow we would be reunited, and, hopefully, she would finally allow me to have the release I craved.

The familiar text tone. "One more photo, my kitten."

Finally. Anything, at this point. She could ask me to finger myself there and then, and I wouldn't hesitate.

"I want to see your pretty cunt..." the text message read. "...dripping with cum."

Every other sound in the park was drowned out by the thumping of my pulse in my ears. She couldn't be serious, could she? Shaking fingers texted back. "My cum, mistress?"

"No," a curt reply, followed by further explanation. "I want you to find someone. And I want them to fuck you."

The phone nearly fell to the ground, my hands were shaking so bad. This was new. This was...more. I was no stranger to being shared by my mistress. The town we lived in wasn't the largest, but there were enough people for there to be a scene of like-minded BDSM enthusiasts. Plus, on some particular evenings, a few of mistress's more select friends had been invited into our play. A stranger was something else, however.

Another text message. "You select the person. Any gender. As long as they have a cock that can fill you."

At least I had agency in the choice of partner. The whole of me vibrated with shock and, underneath, thrill. This was so much more than I'd ever thought myself capable. My trust in her was absolute, but, no matter how much we'd done, I was still that unassuming person underneath, right? How could that person do something so wanton. So...slutty. My mind reeled, but my worked-up cunt flushed with excitement and need.

The text notification rang out again. "After they have released inside you, you may cum."

That was the tipping point. My typing fingers were a blur. "Yes, mistress."

Two hours later, I was downtown. The restaurant was nice. Not the sort of fancy that kept ordinary people like myself out, but fancy enough that being there was a special occasion. My trip was short, but I had packed one Nice Dress just in case. Predictably, I wore nothing underneath, the fabric clutching to my curves and leaving little to the imagination. On top, a simple but elegant open jacket. My old self would have never permitted such a revealing outfit to ever touch my plus-sized frame, but the need to please my mistress had overwritten petty concerns about my body long ago.

A host approached as I lingered in the entranceway of the building. He was cute, and I briefly considered trying to make him my pick of the evening. All dark skin and curls. For a moment, I could very, very vividly picture him beneath me as I rode him. My face flushed as I did my best to appear friendly and nonchalant.

"Party of one?" he asked me.

"Yes, just me tonight," I smiled, putting not a little bit of flirtation behind it.

"Right this way," he gestured into the restaurant proper and began to walk inside. I followed. As I sat down at the table to which he had led me, I caught a glimpse of his eyes, wandering over my body. Good.

"Here you go," he stammered. "Your server will be with you shortly."

"Thank you," I cooed. He speedily walked off, presumably not wanting to get caught checking out a customer. A shame that the logistics of his position prevented us from going further. It would have been nice to surprise him.

Classy, understated lighting illuminated the dining area. Tonight was evidently not a popular date night, as the place was only home to a few scattered individuals besides myself. Some looked like couples. Some looked like business associates. And then there was me. Sitting alone with what felt like a spotlight shining down. I knew it was only in my head, but, knowing why I was there and knowing my mistress's desires, I felt like I was practically glowing.

Preoccupied with my visibility, I'd completely missed my waiter approaching. "Hello! Welcome!" he greeted, causing me to jump in my seat.

I looked up, only to be met by a pair of beautiful green eyes. Taking in the rest of him, I was impressed. He had an incredibly charming smile, with the sort of easy confidence that set me at ease. He was quite the cutie. I couldn't help but think that he'd be perfect for my needs tonight.

"Can I get you something to drink?" he asked.

I smiled back. "You can," I gave him my order, and he walked away. Nerves electric, I pulled out my phone to text my mistress.

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"I think I found the person." I sent her.

"Good," she replied. "Give them my number. I'll handle the rest."

What was she planning? I pulled out a piece of paper from my bag and jotted down her phone number. Now it was time to be more confident than I was used to.

The waiter returned. "Here you go. I hope you enjoy."

"Thank you," I said, reaching for the drink. As our hands drifted closer, I took his in mine, palming the note as I did so. He paused, then seemed to get the hint, taking the folded paper with him. "You'll want to text that number," I whispered.

"I will?" he asked, confused but seemingly happy to play along.

I leaned forward, hoping that the gesture and my cleavage would drive the message home. "You really, really will," I added in a husky yet needy whisper.

A brief little surprise cough escaped him briefly, before he composed himself. "Oh! Okay! I will do that, then." His eyes darted down, taking my full figure in. "Happy to."

His eyes darted around the restaurant, and his voice took on a staged formality. "And are you ready to order?"

I couldn't help but give an amused giggle. He was very cute indeed. "I am, yes." I gave him my food order, and he jotted it down.

"Fantastic," he stammered slightly. "I'll have this out soon."

"Thank you!" I smirked as he walked away. His waiter's uniform didn't do much to accentuate things, but the brief look I got told me that he had a nice enough body. If tonight went according to plan, I'd have a better idea soon.

He disappeared into the back, and I was left alone. My body pulsed as I tried to control my nervous fidgeting. I was doing this. Mistress was doing this. This was happening. It had a good chance at least. An image of that cute waiter on top of me flashed into my mind, and I could feel the wetness of my body's response. Briefly, I considered whether or not he would actually fit the bill. After all, one doesn't want to assume what equipment a person is working with. But who knows? If this particular cutie doesn't have a cock to fill me with, I'd just...pleasure him, and try someone else. Maybe he had a friend he could introduce me to. Maybe two. Who knew?

This was crazy. I had to stop my brain before my thought process took me into orbit. Still no new text from my mistress. She must have known what a bundle of nerves I'd be by now.

After an eternity of waiting, I saw my target enter the room once more, carrying my plate of food. I took a deep breath in a futile attempt to become calm.

"Here you are," he said, grinning as though nothing out of the ordinary were happening at all. "Your friend tells me you're visiting Austin?"

So he had gotten ahold of my mistress. "That's right," I replied.

"Well, welcome to our lovely city," he said, setting down the plate. "From the pictures, it looks like you've been doing some fun sightseeing."

My face went crimson. So he'd seen...those pictures. "That...that's right."

"Well, hopefully you have a fun rest of your trip," he said with a wink, before departing.

Mistress was going to kill me stone dead. Okay. Things were progressing. Okay.

Somehow, I managed to get through my meal. All the while, my phone remained silent. Whatever the two of them were talking about, mistress wasn't letting me in on any of it. After being alone to stew on things for a while, my waiter friend finally returned with the check.

"I'll be back with your card in just a moment." No conversation, but he did make sure to graze my hand as he took the check.

He returned. "Here you go," he handed me my card back. "I've been having quite the interesting conversation with your friend," he said. "She was telling me about your trip."

"Oh yeah?" I replied.

"Yes. She said you've had a lot of...assignments to work on while you're here."

I nodded, smiling and biting my lip. "And what else did she tell you?"

He leaned down, pretending to take the signed receipt, and whisperd in my ear "She said I could fuck you. Said you needed it."

I grinned, then bit my lip. "She's right. Think you have what it takes?"

"I think I can manage," the waiter replied, his smooth words contrasting against the blush spreading across his cheeks. "Meet me out back in ten minutes."

He departed, leaving me vibrating in my seat. Trying my best to stay even keeled, I took several more sips of water, checking my phone intermittently to see if there would be something, anything, from my mistress. Reassurance or hesitation. Either one. Just something to break this tension. No text came, however, and each second dragged by, leaving me wetter and wetter with anticipation. Finally, ten minutes had passed. I stood up, making my way out of the restaurant.

I stepped into the crisp, night air. It was the middle of the week, so the downtown area wasn't bustling like it might have normally been. It was a quick walk around the block, to the alley behind. The middle of the night in a strange city. Alone. Normally, this could be terrifying. As much as I put my trust in my mistress, my pulse still beat heavy in my ears as the clacking of my heels echoed against the quiet buildings. Eventually, I reached the area behind the restaurant.

A lone street light shone on several cars, parked haphazardly behind the establishment. Leaning up against one of them was my waiter friend, waiting patiently next to a truck. The door to the truck bed had been pulled down, and a colorful beach towel had been laid across it. I couldn't help but smile at the consideration.

"Hey there," I said, trying to sound more seductive than anxious.

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"Hi yourself," he replied, grinning. The way he perked up at my presence let me know that I was in complete control of the situation. Mistress had written this play, but I was the director. I approached the waiter, gently running my fingers down his arm. He shivered.

"You know what I want?" I asked.

"I do," he stammered.

"But do you know how much I want it?" Before he could answer, I grabbed his hand, moving it under my skirt. His fingers made contact with my cunt. If he hadn't been told I wasn't wearing underwear, he knew it now for sure.

"I'm getting some idea," he replied.

Erasing any ambiguity, I pulled my skirt up around my waist, exposing myself to the alley. The frequency of mistress's requests for public indecency hadn't diminished the thrill, as I was, excitingly, hyper-aware of my body's visibility. Stepping away, I did a small hop onto the truck bed. Even with the towel, it was still a fairly hard surface, but I was too far gone with need to care at this point. Just the briefest graze of fingers against my lips had me buckling. I laid back, looking up at the stars shining above.

"You know what to do," I said, directing the stranger.

I felt his hands shaking as he spread my legs. Every part of me wanted to be touched, a sensation only enhanced by the chill of the night air against my wetness. My expectations were upended somewhat as I felt a tongue graze along my cunt.

"Oh, fuck..." I couldn't help but groan out into the night. Given the spontaneity and mistress's orders, I hadn't expected anything in the way of foreplay. No part of me was capable of complaining at this moment, though.

A finger entered me. "Mmmph, yes. Just like that." Another. Lips wrapped around my clit as my new friend began to curl his digits inside of me. As much as I hated to admit it, my mistress's directions to not touch myself were paying off. The pleasure took a different shape. Each thrust and lick set off bigger, fuller fireworks within me. My hands reached down, finding the top of my temporary paramour's head and running my fingers through his hair. He had plenty of enthusiasm, exploring me with his mouth. His stubble grazed my lips, the tiny barbs adding a fine texture to my body's response to his ministrations. My eyes found the night sky once more, reveling in the indulgent nature of the show we were putting on. Knowing mistress would be so proud of the way the sounds and smells of our sex filled the alley.

With a harsh snap back to reality, I became suddenly aware of how close I was.

I was of two minds. Part of me wanted to lose myself in this. Let him keep going, let myself cum from it. The evening's teasing had gotten me so worked up, I could climax at any second. And how would she know? How would my mistress know if I just let this adorably enthusiastic guy take me over the edge. She had gotten me so worked up over the past week, I was practically buzzing.

No. I hadn't come this far for half-measures. With a gentle tap, I guided my lover to a stop.

"Yeah?" he asked, looking surprisingly adorable for someone whose face glistened with my wetness. "Was I not...did you want something different?"

"You were beautiful," I said, leaning forward and giving him a quick peck on the lips. Just the barest hint of my taste lingering on my lips as I pulled away. "But I need your cock. Please."

"Absolutely," he replied, starting to undo his belt. Once he was free of it, he paused. "The text...she said you...wanted it without a condom?"

"Mmm-hmm," I nodded.

"And you're sure?" The waiter let his pants and underwear fall to the ground, revealing a beautiful cock, clearly ready for me.

"Mm-hmm," I nodded again, biting my lip with slightly more urgency. Even police sirens couldn't have stopped me from fucking this man right now. I reached down, taking his cock in my hand and giving it a few strokes. "I want this."

A bemused smirk crossed his face. "Freaky girl."

I could have told him about my arrangement with my mistress. About my protective measures. At this moment, though, I needed him to trust me. He stepped forward, lining himself up with my cunt. Whether it was trust or just blind need, I didn't know. Still guiding him with my hand, I rubbed the head of his cock against my lips, making him slick with me.

He began to push forward when I noticed something out of the corner of my eye. I stopped him for a moment, before realizing that we had an audience. That particular corner of the building was hidden from the streetlight, but I could just make out the silhouette of the curly hair of the host who had led me to my seat. I couldn't make out every detail, but I could clearly see an arm moving in the darkness. A hand, stroking.

"Everything okay?" the waiter asked at my sudden hesitation.

I looked back up at him and nodded. "Fuck me," I said, loud enough to be heard.

He slowly moved forward, and I felt his cock enter me. "Yes, fuck yes," I whimpered, as this stranger sank into my needy cunt. I turned my head, looking directly at the figure in the darkness. I had no idea how good of a view he had from that distance, but I threw a wink my voyeur's way. "I love feeling your cock in me."

Leaning up on one elbow, I pulled the top of my dress down, exposing my breasts to the open air. The waiter thrust into me, making me sigh with pleasure with every thrust. A quick pinch of my nipples, and I let out a squeal. "Ah! Like that. Oh, yes, like that."

"Fuck. You feel so fucking good," he grunted, as the sounds of skin meeting skin filled the alley around us. He leaned forward, taking one of my nipples into his mouth. I let out a groan of approval, the little bit of extra sensation making my break even more fogged with lust.

"Oh, I needed this," I moaned, my hands clutching wildly at the towel beneath me. "Fuck! Fuck! Keep fucking me. Oh, god, don't stop."

"You like that cock inside you?" he grunted, thrusting deeper and with more purpose as we found our rhythm. "Fucking me just because your friend told you to?"

My mind stopped, and I let myself drift onto my back, looking up at the stars and reveling in the sensation. The feeling of wanton sluttiness. His length, bare and slick with my desire. The risk of being caught at any moment. The satisfaction of knowing I will be making my mistress happy. The pure physical sensation of my cunt being filled and fucked, all the while my mind swirled with the excitement and alcohol. It was worth it, for this. For her. Knowing in my heart that I was true to my word and my mistress. Words tumbled out as every breath came quicker.

"Please, yes. Give me that cock. Use me. Fuck your little whore."

"Oh god," the waiter grunted, his thrusting becoming slower. More erratic. "God, I'm so fucking close."

"Then fuck me," I groaned, reveling in the anticipation. "Cum for me."

"I can't..." he sighed, starting to stop and pull back. "The text said I wasn't allowed to...ah..." another jolting thrust deep into me. "...I can't cum. Not inside you."

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