Black Heels

He noticed her as soon as she walked into the gallery hall. She was in a gorgeous black gown that sparkled in the lights. She was obviously well-to-do, or it may have been the older man she was with that helped her out; either way she was classy.

He was in his usual working attire: white dress shirt and black pants, which had slowly lost their appeal with the spills and stains that come with catering such drunken parties. This particular night was an art showing, a very expensive art showing and quite an erotic display of artistic talent. Nudity was hardly the taboo in these paintings. Most were of men and women in varying sexual positions, some with multiple partners, some alone masturbating. All showed similar sex faces, heads thrown back, full of ecstasy.

Bryson found it difficult to keep his mind on work, especially with her around. He could hear around her very loud and gathering conversations that her name was Amy and she did have a financial interest in art. Her gentleman with her was in fact her manservant and not her date. Although the fantasy seemed unlikely, Bryson still excited in the fact that she was seemingly unattached.

Bryson continuously went back to Amy's conversating group, taking empty glasses, refilling old ones; however, his intention was to admire her. Amy was a vision in the gown she wore. It was very low cut, showing large, golden swells where her breasts peaked out from her V neckline. Her dress was long but still showed she was towering over her male audience with a pair of stiletto, black heals. Bryson loved women in heals. It was a masochist fantasy about women digging their heals into his side that got him off the fastest.

As the hours past the drinks came more steadily. Amy was quite a drinker. Her polite sipping turned into practically gulping her wine and motioning Bryson to bring her another. Bryson also noticed the longer she drank, the louder she became and more flirtatious with her admiring crowd. The animated way she laughed almost reminded him of the orgasmic faces of the people in the paintings; Bryson soon found himself soaking in the idea of giving Amy those faces.

He was starting to become annoyed, however, as Amy drank more and called on him more, especially since he had to continuously hide his growing erection on his thoughts of putting her in her place, in his own manner. She slowly started to acknowledge his existence; not in a friendly manner however. She would bark demands at him and eye him cruelly if he was not immediate with her demands.

Her demure with others, though, was much friendlier. She was practically leaning on a fellow in an expensive-looking tuxedo. He wore a lot of glamorous jewelry for a man and obviously liked showing off his wealth. Amy seemed to enjoy his "showing off" as well. She was obviously flirting with him, in a very forwardly-sexual way. She would hang her lip off the edge of her glass just a second too long, or pull her dress up a little too high to adjust her panty stockings. She had gorgeous legs, long and fit; she also made it obvious she was wearing a garter to hold up her stockings. Although he seemed unaware of her advances, Bryson was paying close attention to her sexual frustration.

Bryson decided he had had enough of her attitude and figured she had had enough to drink as well and stopped adhering to her commands. He still watched her from afar, giving him enough view of her body to continue his fantasies of her. He put his mind to the rest of the guests and continued to admire the paintings. But when he looked back to steal another glance at his drunken fantasy, she was missing. Her elite counterpart was still there and so was her man-servant, so she hadn't escaped far.

Figuring she would return he went along with his duties and returned to the bar to fill his empty drink tray. As he lined the dark hallway to the bar he was pulled off balance by a pair of strong hands into an empty meeting room.

"I know you've been looking at me tonight," she spoke with a husky voice.

He could not see a thing in the dark but assumed he was talking to the lustrous Amy. His assumptions changed when he felt a warm hand wrap around his hard dick through his pants. But he could see her now as his vision adjusted and street lights lit up the room with shadows of gray. Her face was illuminating. Although she reeked of alcohol she projected a lustful scent. Her deep breathing heaved her full breasts up and down in her dress and he could feel himself getting even harder.

"And I know you want me . . . but I am not to be had by the likes of you, so you can stop with your foolish fantasies," she concluded before storming out of the room.

He didn't know whether to be turned on or angry, but he would definitely have something to say the next time she pulled something like that.

Bryson continued to ignore her loud commands for more drinks and service. He did little to give her any attention, even eyeing her, although he did catch her more than once glaring at him. He decided to toy with her arrogance and began flirting with the company, being extra-attentive to one particularly attractive guest, who was reciprocating her attention nicely.

Amy obviously noticed and was more obviously annoyed with the charade. She repeatedly attempted to pull her gentleman away from the group and entice him to take her home with him. He welcomed the advances, stealing a grope of her breasts, which by now were swelling out of the dress, threatening to expose a nipple soon. Bryson could see her prized body being fondled and wondered if she would be as aroused if he had his mouth over one of those nipples. However, her attempts obviously failed when her man casually went back to parading with the other upperclassmen.

Bryson giggled to himself at her frustration. He did not understand what bothered her so much about him, but he had taken some entertainment in all this and continued to picture himself fucking her silly, regardless of her threats. He eventually lost sight of her again and figured she had requested her manservant to take her home. He had been exhausted from the evening and being on his feet and decided to steal a few minutes away in the private restroom before catering to more drunken demands.

He took advantage of some of the toiletries in the restroom, roaming through the expensive colognes and hand lotions. He heard the door but before he could turn around he felt her familiar hands grab him by the sides.

"Enjoying the evening?" she asked him in a surprisingly friendly manner.

He didn't answer.

"I do enjoy these types of gallery evenings, the artist is one of my favorites" she continued as she firmly moved her hands to the front of his waist and began fingering his belt.

He grabbed her hands and spun around with a determined look on his face.

"I'll ask you not to touch me ma'm," he sternly told her before throwing her hand away.

She seemed unmoved by his actions. She was obviously drunk and he wondered if she even knew who he was. Her dress was starting to hang more on her petite body and as she stumbled backward to catch herself, he got the first glimpse of her erect nipple as it finally escaped her dress.

He couldn't help but stare, her body was absolutely beautiful. She had huge, full breasts which were obviously tanned and stood perky off her chest. Her dark nipple was perk as well with a hard areola that begged to be sucked. He tried not to let her see but he was instantly erect.

"Don't lie, I know you still want me," she said, surprisingly not slurred.

Obviously she knew who he was, but he couldn't figure out what she wanted exactly.

"Can I get you something ma'm?" he asked with his same, stern tone.

"You can come over here and touch me," she replied, leaning back and groping her exposed nipple with her fingertips.

She played with herself expertly, at first pinching her nipples and then lightly flicking them, losing herself in the pleasure for a moment. Bryson could not believe what he was seeing; an hour ago she was telling him to stop picturing exactly what she was displaying for him currently. Still he was too strong-willed to let a little seduction let her get what she wanted after that insulting gesture earlier in the evening.

"Not exactly part of my job description," he said sarcastically as he headed for the door to leave her in her sexual frustration.

"No!" she screamed as she blocked him from the door.

She definitely glowed when she got angry. He still could not figure her out but decided it would be more fun to fuck with her than deny her what she wanted simply out of spite.

"Is this what you want . . ." he asked seductively as he reached down inside her dress and thumbed a nipple.

"Yes," she breathed as she closed her eyes and concentrated on his tempting touches.

He had her practically cornered. After subtly teasing her nipples one at a time he cupped her entire breast and began massaging the firm flesh. She gasped at his increased advances but he cut her short with a hard, lustful kiss. She gulped in his kiss as heavily as she downed her glasses of wine. Bryson continued to tease and pinch her nipples as she moaned into his mouth and stroked her tongue seductively with his. She paused for just a moment to strip her dress down to her waist to give him full assess to her perfect tits. She was definitely a bitch but a sexy one.

She tried to take control of the situation again and he knew to take hold of her. He slammed her into the corner of the wall and took her venturing hands above her head, leaving her hanging breasts to his disposal.

"Sshhhh," he breathed over her mouth as his face lowered to her heaving breasts.

She still squirmed, waiting for his next move. He could practically smell her cumming in anticipation. He looked up at her face and smiled. He was completely fucking with her and by the look of desperation on her face he knew he was working her over bad. He leaned in and lightly licked one of her nipples. She tried to lean forward but her attempts were in vain as Bryson stiffened his grip on her hands. He moved to the next nipple and repeated his torturous teasing on her obviously sensitive nipples. After coating each nipple with wetness he began to lightly blow on each shaking breast and watched with great reward as her nipples became harder and tighter.

"Oh, please . . . please touch me," she wined and strained against him. "I've wanted you to touch me all night."

His brow frowned at her last statement. Had she really? Then why the nagging demands and attempts to go home with someone else and why had she purposely told him not to consider touching her? It was obvious she had been playing games with him the whole night. And as much as he was enjoying toying with her, he realized he could get a lot more out of her than just an easy fuck.

"What did I tell you?" he said in a dark, demanding tone. He had even surprised himself when he found his hand had moved to her neck and slightly choked her as he growled close to her ear: "I told you to hush."

"You're not even worth it," he said as he let her go and stormed out of the bathroom, leaving her half-naked and wondering what had just happened.

Bryson had no idea what she must be thinking or what his next move would be even if she did give him the opportunity. She had been fucking with him all night and for no apparent reason. He was less curious but more intent on fucking with her back, and so far it seemed to be working wonderfully. He caught a glimpse of Amy walking out of the restroom, attempting to stabilize and adjusting her dress to cover her breasts again, breasts he just had in his mouth moments ago . . . he still wanted her. He didn't know how he was going to get another chance, but she was hot enough to forgive his pride and just take her.

She seemed to calm down later in the night, refusing anymore drinks and giving up attempts to get Mr. Big Shot to take her home with him. It was interesting to watch her sassy confidence fade over being rejected by "the help." The party was finally beginning to leave and Bryson got an opportunity to start wrapping things up for the night. He was carrying an armful of table runners when he was stopped in his tracks by a stone-sober Amy.

"Need any help?" she asked with a shy smile.

"No I've got it, thank you" Bryson replied, in a friendlier tone than he intended.

He put the cloths down and strolled over to where she was standing in the dark. She still looked amazing especially when she was conscious and controlled. She was casually sipping on water in a wine glass. Amy giggled softly when she saw Bryson's surprised look. "They give me a hard time if I can't keep up with them," she said, gesturing toward the male guests she had been parading with all night. "I use water to fake them out and give me a chance to come to my senses . . . so to speak." She rolled her eyes a bit in an attempt to make light of their earlier interlude.

Bryson was very surprised, this woman seemed to have a lot more about her than he originally assumed. She also seemed a little emotionally imbalanced but he was more occupied with the view than the tour.

"Sorry about my attitude tonight," she continued. "I can be an asshole drunk and I didn't mean to . . . ummm . . . take advantage of you."

"No apologies necessary ma'm, its not like I can't take some responsibility for what happened."

"Please stop calling me ma'm" she replied hurriedly. "You make me feel like a debutant or a benefactor, you know, some old chic with money."

"Well, aren't you?" Bryson asked, only half expecting an answer.

"Very funny . . ." she said. "Yes, I'm old money but there are a lot of negatives to being wealthy, for one, you have to come to events with these old bores. At least the scenery was interesting this time."

She was obviously talking about the paintings but she gave Bryson an up-down look, giving him the impression she was talking about him.

"So, did you see anything you liked?" Bryson asked, hoping she would keep talking to him.

She didn't reply but playfully nudged him, buying into the joke. But before she could pull back Bryson grabbed her by the arm, pulled her near to him and passionately kissed her. She immediately responded and kissed him back with equal intensity.

"Come with me," Bryson whispered as he led her to the dark meeting room she had introduced him to earlier that night.

She was much less aggressive than she had been earlier but he had had enough time to learn some of her buttons. He sat her up on the meeting table and folded her dress open to once again expose her beautiful, perky tits not once taking his mouth off of hers. He gently fondled the perfect globes, giving extra attention to her sensitive nipples just to hear her moan again.

She was romantically rubbing up and down his back, pausing to grab and massage his ass. Bryson slid his hand down the inside of her gown and gently let the straps fall off her shoulders, revealing herself again to him. He pulled away from her mouth and gave her quick kisses all the way down her neck but slowed when he reached her breasts.

She breathed heavily which pushed her breasts even closer to his waiting mouth. Her hands were creeping around his waist and to the front of his pants. He breathed warm air onto her nipple and when he was sure she was wet again he quickly licked the sensitive flesh and turned his head to the other. She was riding with suspense. Her intensity and desperation to be touched was being vented onto his belt and pant zipper. Before he realized what she was doing, his pants were at his ankles and his thick, protruding cock sprung to her attention.

He kept teasing her, ignoring the fact that she was practically stripping him naked. From one to another he breathed and licked each nipple, giving each more attention as he traded between them. He was circling each nipple with his tongue, avoiding the peak as much as he could resist, but when she found the fly of his boxers and once again wrapped her warm, firm hand around his cock he enveloped his lips around her whole nipple and they both moaned.

He sucked on each of her nipples hard, varying from holding her nipple in his teeth and stroking it with his tongue to flicking them, opened mouth, with his tongue. He could tell what she liked by how she increased her speed to jacking him off. They were both going crazy and both knew their teasing could not go on much longer.

Without waiting for a queue Bryson lifted Amy's knees over his elbows and pulled his head down to in between her legs. He was disappointed to feel her hand slip away from his pulsing cock, but he had yet to explore her salivating cunt.

Her gown was pulled up to her ass and the only thing between him and her sweet aroma were a pair of thin, black thong panties. Her garter had left her thighs exposed and easy access to her pussy. He leaned in and began to stroke her inner thigh with his tongue. Her breathing quickened and she became so anxious her legs started to shake. He put one hand on her inner thigh to steady her legs but couldn't help running his fingers on the inside of her panties, barely grazing her sensitive pussy lips. His kisses journeyed closer to his exploring fingertips until he was close enough to taste the first hint of cum.

She gasped and leaned back, using her arms to catch her. Bryson did not change his pace or his teasing but lingered in her obsessive want for him to touch her.

"Please," she whispered.

"Please what?" he asked, muffled between her legs.

"Please lick me."

She was almost studdering she was so anxious. He knew he could keep this up as long as he wanted but he also wanted to please her. His tongue slowly crawled closer to her pussy lips and when he could no longer stretch his tongue any further he ripped her panties off and dove his tongue into her soaking wet cunt.

Amy let out a scream of pleasure and relief. She remained still, fearful that anything she said or did would cause him to walk out on her again. Bryson no longer cared about proving a point. He lifted her legs over his shoulders and wrapped his arms around her body, hugging her ass and pushing her dress up even further to rub her flat stomach.

Amy slowly started to gyrate on his face. Bryson reached up to fondle her nipples but was surprised to feel that she was already working on herself. She grabbed his hands and put them to her tits, using her hands to control his movements. He flicked her nipples until he tasted her cum a few times then pulled his arms back down in between her legs. He was covered in her cum and lifted up to breathe and wipe his face. His now cum-covered hand moved to her throbbing cunt and he began stroking her, from clit to ass, spreading her cum until he had a wet, slick surface to play.

Slowly he snuck a finger into her very hot pussy. She moaned and pinched her nipples harder. He liked her reaction and slid in another finger and felt her get even wetter. She shuddered but tried to be quiet. He lowered his head back to her pussy but instead started to stroke her clit up and down. It was driving her crazy. Her whole body stiffened and she gasped between strokes. He found her G-spot with his fingers and roughly stroked it, deep and fast. She instantly came and her body grew even tighter and more strained.

"Scream for me" Bryson said, still hovering his tongue over her squirting clit.

"What?" she asked, looking at him over her lifted dress.

"I said scream for me." He repeated, looking at her now. "What, are you afraid someone will hear you?"

"No, I'm afraid you'll leave me again," she replied, looking scared what he still might.

"I said scream for me," he repeated pushing his fingers deeper inside her.

And she did. It burst out of her like she was overwhelmed with it. Her body finally relaxed and she sat up, grabbed Bryson by the back of his head and pushed his face down into her clit. She held nothing back, and neither did he, as she bucked his face and grinded into his fingers. Suddenly Bryson could see the room getting brighter.