The black Maserati gleamed in the soft light of the garage. Connor's eyes seemed to adjust slowly as he took in the way in which it dominated the concrete floor and put to shame the large, equally obsidian Mercedes Benz sedan beside it.
"It's his favorite new toy," he heard Debra say from right behind his left ear as he felt her breast on his shoulder blade and her lips near his earlobe. "He won't let anyone else drive it."
Connor felt his body tingle at feeling her so close again. This woman was a sexual force and his body was useless against her. He felt her hand take his and the cold metal between them. He looked down at the keys in his hand.
"But he's not here is he Connor?" She smiled that lip-curling smile with which he'd become so familiar and walked to the car where she stood at the driver's side door. In his hungry staring, he almost forgot himself and had to lurch suddenly out of his stupor to beat her to the door and open it for her. She saw his near-mistake and giggled as he took her hand to ease her down into the low, black leather bucket seat.
As she bent her legs to fit, he saw the hem of her dress ride up to expose her uppermost thigh and the garter belt and ties that held her black stockings in place. His cock leaped into the soft fabric of his expensive cotton suit pants, reminding him of the lack of underwear Debra had silently insisted upon by offering him only the clothes on the bed and hiding what he'd worn when he fell into her world.
Debra saw his response to her choice of lingerie and smiled up teasingly.
"We'd better be off Connor. Our reservation is in less than a half hour."
"Yes Mrs. Debra," he smiled back with the growing confidence that came with relishing this role she seemed to delight in watching him play. "Right away ma'am."
Behind the wheel of the Maserati, with the feel of what had to be a $6,000 suit on his body, Connor felt a potency that radiated out into the heavy Miami night.
Debra sat next to him, dancing slowly and sensually to the soft, Latin music pumping from the car's insanely high-tech sound system. He watched her periodically in the mirror and caught her eye at every glance.
Those impossibly blue eyes bore into him from the mirror as her full, firm breasts writhed under the taut fabric of her tiny black dress. The glimmer of perspiration was apparent on her lined, freckled chest as she danced and her beautiful muscled neck shone out as she tensed it vigorously, allowing her red ponytail to whip back and forth against the high backed leather seat.
From the corner of his eye he could see her hands, and their long, age defined fingers rub her thighs, knees, and stomach as she swayed to the rhythms. When she moved deeply, her hands grabbed the dashboard and her back arched suggestively forward while her sinewy, creaseless arms showed their feminine power.
As he took her in with his eyes, Connor marveled at the sexual dynamism of her fifty plus year old body.
Intermittently she would lean into his ear and whisper a direction, guiding them towards the lights of South Beach to a destination that only she knew and was a mystery to him.
As her orders purred off of her wet, pouting lips and into his quivering ear, her tongue or teeth would glance his earlobe and make his body shudder as he fought to keep control of the insanely powerful mechanical beast that he guided down the Highway. Connor's body had never felt so alive or dominant as it did behind that wheel and swathed in the expensive fabric of the perfectly fitting suit. He felt even more vital when he compared his body's growing power with his mental need to stay attentive and servile to Debra's every need. Feeling her power over him made him ache with passion. The truth of her dominance over him was taking its root in his mind as he looked up and caught her eyes again in the rearview.
They flashed back at him as if saying, "I know."
Whatever Collins Ave hotel to which she had guided him was called, Connor couldn't place it. It sat next to and between the hot spots of South Beach but was apparently much too exclusive for Connor's broke hipster standing.
The valet was waiting for him as he opened the door and Connor had his ticket before he even noticed extending his hand. Men in white shorts, polo shirts and blazers surrounded Debra as she unfolded herself out the driver-side door.
A feeling of strange pride filled him as he watched the twenty-something guys his age or younger take her in and fall, if only momentarily, under the spell of her mature sensuality. Connor took her hand from the limp grip of the awed, young bellboy who had been struck dumb by Mrs. Debra's eyes and smile. His suavity was met with an approving nod and grin from her and they went confidently together into the dark, cool lobby of the hotel.
He could hear and feel the ocean beating at them from the far side of the seemingly empty lobby. All the fashionable, beautiful people who populated it sat along its deeply set walls and seemed to take in the newcomers without any apparent interest. Debra pulled him gently down the length of the place before turning right and stopping at a small concierge desk under a gaudy white chandelier that held faintly burning candles.
"Good evening miss," came the voice of the reed thin, immaculate Maitre D. "It's lovely to have you back."
"Thank you so much," Debra purred, allowing him to kiss the back of her extended hand.
"The cabana you requested is ready and right this way," he demurred, releasing her palm and motioning subtly for them to follow.
They followed him through the mesmeric dining room. Soft, ambient music played over the diners who spoke quietly over their plates of expensive looking seafood and exotic cocktails.
Moonlight, along with its reflection off the undulating night sea, lit the room in concert with candles on every table and in more chandeliers strung from the high ceilings.
The Maitre D led them past the corner tables to a curtain that he parted for them and outside to a candle lit walkway that followed out towards the beach. After a few seconds along the path, they came up to four cabanas set behind tall palms. If he hadn't been shown them, Connor would never have known of their existence.
"Enjoy," the Maitre D smiled with a knowing grin and parted another curtain revealing an open, wood slatted door.
"Thank you again. Our meal will be on account tonight, so no bill will be necessary." Debra said in a measured yet honey sweet tone.
"Of course," he replied with a curt smile before disappearing into the pathway.
When Connor turned Debra was already disappearing into the cabana.
