The Performance The Departure

THE PERFORMANCE - CHAPTER SEVEN

The big, black stretch limousine pulled up in front of the house at exactly 6:30. Cate had everything packed and stacked by the front door, ready to be loaded into the car. Tom was downstairs waiting as she finished getting dressed in the upstairs bath. There was a little meet and greet planned with Jason and his boys sometime pre-show and after check-in, so Tom assumed that she was going to be completely decked out for that. He was wondering how eye-catching the outfit was going to be this time, as the last two appearances for her one-man-appreciation-society had been super seductive, exceptionally enticing, and wonderfully revealing. It was, in fact, more revealing than he had ever seen her wear before, except of course when she was onstage. Even then, the costumes generally kept all the really good bits hidden. He knew that she was just playing cat and mouse with Sasha's husband, who was always in full seduction mode around her, and she seemed to enjoy being the quintessential hot cock tease. Tom had warned her very early on that Jason was going to do his utmost to lure her into bed, and that she should make sure that her playful teasing not reach the level of leading him on. That could end in a bad result for everyone.

Tom couldn't help but be just a bit concerned regarding her resolve in deflecting his advances. He was confident in their relationship and knew that Cate loved him as much as he loved her, but he was acutely aware that she was at least somewhat attracted to the man. At least physically. She had told him so. She conceded that she thought Jason extremely good looking and charismatic, and she was loving the attention he paid her. Cate expressed that she found him arrogant and self-possessed, and made it clear to Tom that Jason's cockiness was a major turn off for her. She also knew that the man viewed her as just another potential conquest.

But what if her resolve weakened? Could she continue to fend off his advances and be true to their relationship? Sure, Tom was always trying to get her to show off a bit more in public, dress as provocatively as her stage persona hinted, and be a bit more of an exhibitionist (actually a lot more, if he had his way.) He wanted all the men to admire her and drool after her with their tongues dragging like cartoon dogs. It excited him. But could there be unforeseen consequences? What was the possibility that she would let her guard down and surrender to whatever temptation presented itself? She had already lied to him once so that she could ostensibly be alone with the man. The 'tech guy' story still stuck in his head and continued to plague him with uneasiness. It was so unnecessary. All she had to do was be honest about the whole thing. Why hide it? Did she have a desire to surrender to Jason's advances and welcome his hard cock? Could one weak moment be all it would take? The idea was just a little disconcerting.

Well, after tonight the whole thing would be over. The show would be done and there would be a big paycheque for his wife. Jason would then be out of their lives. Tom decided to just look forward to a fabulous performance where his wife was going to be the centre of attention for a dozen very appreciative business men, who by evening's end, will all doubtlessly be lusting after her. Of that he was certain. He smiled at the knowledge that although any one of 'the dirty dozen' would be happy to give up a month's wages to enjoy some private time with her, she would be leaving with him to spend the night together in their ritzy (free!) hotel suite.

"Hey! The ride's here! Are you ready to go? Should I load all the stuff in the car or wait for you?" he bellowed up the stairs.

"I'm still going to be a few minutes. We have some time yet. But yeah, go ahead and load up the car. Get the driver to help you. There's a lot of stuff there," she hollered back.

"Yes, there certainly is," he thought. "Does she really need all of this? It seems excessive." He'd never seen her cart this much stuff to a gig before. The hallway was a mess. Suitcases, containers of costumes, accessories, dresses hanging in big plastic bags, shoe boxes and more were piled up, some strewn around the entranceway. It looked like she was going on a cruise. A long one.

The driver was more than happy to help out. Tom piled everything on the stoop and then handed most of the stuff to the driver to load into the car. When it appeared that task was completed, he went back in the house and yelled again to his wife that it was time to get rolling.

"I'm coming!" she yelled. And then started to slowly descend the stairs.

But it was Tom who was almost cumming.

When he looked up and saw her, he was sure his heart had stopped for a moment. She was the dictionary definition of ravishing. Her little black dress was definitely black. And definitely little. It came to just below mid-thigh and the scooped neckline was so low as to stop just above where Tom knew her areolae to be. The old line about how it looked like 'she was poured into that dress and forgot to say when', certainly applied in this case. The outfit may as well have been spray painted on. A zipper ran down the left side of the dress to facilitate getting into the thing. And getting out of it too, he guessed. He was hoping that the black stay up stockings that she was wearing were the ones with the seam down the back. Those were by far his favourites. Unfortunately, he only ever got to see her in them when she was on stage. Her open toed pumps lifted her up three inches or so, giving her muscled calves amazing definition and making her magnificent ass look oh so inviting. It was just begging for attention and he was tempted to give it a loving smack, but held the urge in check. Her small silver hoop earrings matched the few bangle bracelets on her delicate wrist, and the diamond ring on the third finger of her left hand provided some additional sparkle. That piece of jewellery also indicated that she was 'married' and not available for the taking. A signal that appeared to not be any kind of a stop sign for Jason Sinclair, however. The delicate silver chain with it's silver teardrop pendant nestled deeply into her substantial cleavage, effectively drawing attention to the fact that she was, yet again, delightfully braless. There were no visible pantylines.

"Wow." Tom thought, "I hope this gets to be a habit with her."

"Honey, you're a knockout," I said, eyeing her up and down and drinking in the gloriously uninhibited vision before me.

"You like?" she asked with a flutter of her eyelashes and a little up and down boob bounce for effect.

"Speechless. Just speechless. That is one hell of a 'meet and greet' outfit I'll tell ya. Is it maybe giving away too much before the show? Not that I would ever complain, mind you."

"Ha. You kidding? This is nothing. I mean, it's definitely 'something', but when they see me bumping and grinding on stage under the lights, with music and in costume, they will have forgotten all about this little outfit. Trust me," she said with a wink and a quick butt wiggle.

"Honey, I can already see your nipples trying to bullet their way to freedom through the front of that dress and it isn't even the least bit chilly. And is there a thong or anything resembling an undergarment under there?" I asked, hoping for a 'no'.

"Nope. Commando baby. Letting my little puss breathe. And hey, you asked for this, man. This is what you've been craving for ages, isn't it? Well, here it is. This is what it looks like. This is me showing off. Enjoy it. And in fact, I hope everyone enjoys it. Maybe this is the new me," she smirked and started walking towards the waiting ride, her ass jiggling and her big tits bouncing to the beat of her high heels.

Tom shut and locked the door and joined her in the back of the big, black land yacht for the crosstown ride to the hotel.

"This oughta be good," he mused.