Ann: The Married Years Ch. 37

"Let me think of something. I've got some time to come up with --"

He grabbed her coat, handing it to her as he pulled her close. "It's too late. Go to the restroom and take off your dress."

"Do what? Are you kidding?"

"Do I look like I'm kidding?"

"And what am I supposed to do with the dress, just throw it away? Or am I supposed to carry it back with me."

He handed her a hundred-dollar bill, which kind of surprised her. "Go to the gift shop and buy a souvenir. I saw a woman in the lobby earlier. They use big brown bags, the kinds with ropes for handles. Buy something, and then go into the restroom, take off the dress, and put it in the bag. Hurry...we don't have much time."

Pushing her gently, he motioned with his head. "Hurry back, baby. You can't miss the start of the next act," he said out loud.

She fell back into character perfectly with her response. "Can I have the keys? I want to put the gift in the car... so I don't have to bring it back in here."

Tossing them to her, he smiled. "I guess that explains why you're taking your coat. Don't leave without me, sweetheart," he laughed.

She found it odd he called her that. He never called her sweetheart, at least that she could recall. It was then she realized she'd announced out loud that she was heading to the car. And he jumped all over it as a way to explain why she'd taken her coat just to get up.

"How clever of him to cover for me," she smiled, thinking of how he was so in tune with his character that he seemed to be three steps ahead of the way she was portraying hers.

She was suddenly nervous as she walked into the gift shop. She put on the coat, not wanting to look suspicious carrying it around. It was odd because she was just looking for a trinket to take home. Perhaps something Owen might like. But it was hard because it was a theatre, and the items they had weren't really kid friendly. She also needed to pick up something that was big enough to require a bag the size that would hold her dress.

"I can't believe I'm even thinking of doing this," she muttered, wondering just what he had in mind that would require her to shed her outfit. She was sure it had more to do with the idea of her being naked underneath the fur coat, and that very notion had her pussy dripping with excitement. Still, the premise he was using was of concern. Would he really make her take off the coat inside the theatre... as a distraction?

She pictured herself being made to do it, a shudder running through her body. Her nipples hardened even more underneath her tight dress, still plainly visible as she hadn't closed the imitation fur. As she made her way through the small shop, she finally settled on a clothing area. They had a lot of items that promoted the theatre, including jackets and hats and sweatshirts. But she honed in on the T-shirts.

What caught her eye first was a small shirt designed for a toddler which she found adorable. She selected one, but knew that wouldn't be enough to warrant a bag big enough to hold her dress. Moving to ones her size, she found a bunch of them in a wide variety of styles and colors.

The first thing that came to mind was how she'd buy cheap T-shirts for the express purpose of letting Neil rip them off her body. It was part of another role she'd play when she'd pretend to be a bad girl at home, becoming Anna Renee. He'd tear them off in the heat of the moment, disciplining her while he fucked her hard and aggressively. While these were slightly more expensive, she liked the idea of using them for that purpose, especially since she was down to her last throw away version at home.

She picked out ones that were the least expensive, knowing what she was going to use them for. They also happened to be the thinnest, all of them white or a light color that would show off her nipples and areolas underneath. Gathering ten of them, she made her way to the register. The woman at the counter didn't raise an eye as she checked her out, placing the purchase into a large brown bag just like Neil had described. Taking it out into the lobby, she searched for the sign that would point her to the restroom.

Standing nervously in the stall, she took a deep breath as she shed her coat, hanging it on the hook screwed into the swinging door. Lifting the bottom of her dress, she sat her naked ass on the toilet seat, the bag of T-shirts next to her.

"Am I really going to do this?" she wondered, finding the idea of sitting in the theatre in the fur and nothing else both thrilling and terrifying. Who knew what he might do? She would be at his whim, open and vulnerable to his devious mind. Her hand felt her pussy, her finger sliding inside to feel how wet she was, answering the question of what she should do. With the excitement outweighing whatever anxiety she might be experiencing, she lifted the dress over her head.

A shiver made her hand go to the wall of the stall for balance. She was naked inside a public bathroom; something she'd never done before. The closest she could remember was being held captive in a small dressing room of the adult store in California, her friend Missy handcuffing her there to help her live out a fantasy. This was different. She was by herself, and it while it was sexual, it was along the lines of Neil making her do it, which always added a submissive slant. She didn't just feel naughty, she felt dirty.

Carefully folding the dress, she placed it in the bottom of the bag, piling the T-shirts on top to conceal it. She decided to go ahead and use the bathroom, if only to not seem conspicuous. When she finished, she flushed, then hurriedly put on the coat, closing it all the way to the top as if she were really going to go outside. After she finished washing her hands, she checked her watch.

"Shit... I think I'm late," she said in a panic.

Her fears were confirmed when she walked back into the darkened theatre, the actors already on stage. She wasn't really upset that she ruined Neil's plans. It was that she was going to have to pass in front of the people seated in her row to get to hers. She always hated when someone did that to her while she watched a movie. Now here she was about to inconvenience others by blocking their view as she made her way past them.

Finally getting to her seat, she sheepishly sank down in the cushion, not from what she was wearing, but from how she was feeling, upset that she'd had to rudely interrupt others enjoyment of the performance. Once she set the bag down on the floor in front of her, she closed her eyes for a moment, trying to collect herself.

Finally regaining some composure, she returned her attentions to the action on stage, trying to figure out what she might have missed. In truth, it wasn't much. If anything, she had disrupted very little of the beginning of the second act. And when she noticed others doing the same thing she'd done, including one to her right in their same row, it eased her tension.

She found it strange that Neil said nothing when she returned, not even looking in her direction. He was watching the show, albeit with a certain focus that she'd never seen before, at least in that kind of setting. It wasn't like he was acting mad that she'd come back late. His look was almost one of determination, and that puzzled her. Shrugging it off, she sat up a bit in her seat and relaxed, her imagination taking her back to the era being created in front of her. It was magical.

It wasn't until it came to the end of the act that she noticed Neil moving. He hedged toward the edge of his seat, peering intently at the program in his hand. Stuffing it in the side of his seat, he leaned forward as if he was about to get up.

She gently touched his shoulder, his head snapping around in her direction. "W... where are you going?"

"To finish the job," he snarled in a hushed voice. His reaction startled her, and in a split second her eyes darted to the front of the theatre. The actor he'd marked as the villain in their mission was about to exit stage right. Smoke began rolling across the floor, rising up so he could leave in the ghostly cloud the effect created. "It's too late. Now I have to do it from here!"

He reached inside his jacket, going for his holster. Ann freaked, thinking he was really going to do something stupid just for the sake of a silly role-playing game she'd set up. Grabbing his arm, she held it tight, fear in her eyes as she pressed against him.

"No, please," she pleaded, hoping not to make another scene in which she'd be embarrassed.

She could see his hand on the gun. He'd actually removed it, his finger on the trigger as he gripped it tight, still hidden by his jacket. At that moment the curtain began to drop on the second act, the lights coming up a short time after. Placing the toy back into the holster, he removed her hand from his arm.

The look he gave made her tremble. She actually felt guilty for stopping him. It was all too much for her to handle. They were playing, yet he was taking it so seriously she wondered if he might have lost his mind. He reminded her of a method actor who couldn't let go of a role, actually becoming the character to make the performance believable.

"Did I make a mistake setting this up?" she wondered as she watched him sit back in his seat, the resigned look of failure etched on his face. Then just as quickly it was gone, replaced by one of acceptance, and then determination. She could practically see him channeling Bond, getting over the frustration of missing out on the opportunity, and immediately moving on, formulating his next strategic move. "Damn, he's better than the actor's on stage," she marveled.

Rising from his seat, he stretched again before looking down at her. She remained in place, feeling timid until he reached out his hand to help her to her feet.

"I'm sorry James. It took longer in the gift shop than I thought it would."

"Nothing we can do about it now, Pamela. I just can't believe you lost your nerve at the end. I could have taken him out when he was walking off stage. Why did you stop me?"

"I... I didn't want to see you get caught," she replied, batting her eyes seductively. "I couldn't bear the thought of them capturing you... the torture they'd put you through to make you talk. I got scared."

It was the perfect reply; one that brought a smile to his heart. It was also the one he was hoping for, although he wasn't sure just what to do with it yet. He was so busy making things up as he went along, he hadn't figured out where he wanted to end up with the adventure. All he knew was he was having a great time, and he loved that she was feeling it like he seemed to be. The look on her face when he went to pull out the gun was real, the shock and fear in her eyes not imaginary. She felt like he was going to do it, and in some way, he wasn't so sure he wouldn't have if she hadn't stopped him.

Regardless, now the moment had passed and he had to come up with what he wanted do next. He had several scenarios already played out in his head, unsure which one he'd end up going with. It was part of his wiring, always making things up as he went along; or in this case, several of them. He just had to wait to see which one would work best based on how she reacted.

Now that she'd stopped him from carrying out the 'assassination' of a dangerous drug lord, he was left to deal with the aftermath. That he'd had her change her attire for one idea didn't matter. He simply would use that to his advantage, which was what he wanted to do all along.

Pulling her in close, he held her, peering deep into her dark chocolate eyes. Shifting his gaze, he opened the top button of her coat, pulling it out away from her body so he could leer down the front. "At least you did as I asked," he said with a grin.

"James, you have to believe me. I wasn't trying to sabotage the mission. It took longer in the gift shop, and then I didn't have the valet ticket, so I didn't know where the car was parked."

"Rubbish... you had the key-fob. You could have made the car horn honk to find it."

"I...I didn't think of that. And then, I panicked when I saw you reach in for your... you know... and I was worried you'd be caught and tortured."

"Was it that, or you were concerned that you'd be caught."

"Well, that too," she confessed. "What do we do now?"

He sighed. "We finish watching the play. There's still a chance we might get another shot at Sanchez. As long as he's in the theatre, we need to see if an opportunity presents itself. In the meantime, there's no reason we shouldn't enjoy ourselves while we're here."

"I thought you weren't paying attention to the play," she grinned, going along with his pretense. "Didn't you say something about not being here to have fun?"

"I believe I also said 'fuck the play'."

"That's right. You did."

"So why is it that the only word you're thinking about now is... fuck?"

His finger lifted her chin, his parted lips searching for hers while his hand found the small of her back. Holding her firmly against his groin while they kissed, she felt his hardness, her moan loud enough to draw more attention to them. Well, to her.

She'd already attracted the leering eyes of most of the men in the lobby with the way her tight dress accentuated her curves, and her nipples practically calling out to be stared at. Then she made a noticeable call out to him for the keys, something she hadn't considered at the time. But returning with the bag only reminded those in the rows around her that it was she that was rudely making her way down the row to her seat, bag still in hand.

Now she was making out with the handsome man in the sharp suit and bow tie, his hand drifting down over her ass. The only thing that might have made it seem the least bit odd was she was now wearing the fake fur instead of the form-fitting cocktail dress. Of course, all those around them had to assume the dress was underneath the coat, not in the bag on the floor. But that fact wasn't lost on Neil.

He unfastened another button at the top of her coat, her eyes widening. "What are you doing, James?"

"I'm getting you ready for the curtain call."

"What the heck does that mean?"

"It means I might have one last shot at Sanchez. But it will be more difficult in this crowd. If not, you're going to perform for me," he grinned, motioning for her to take her seat. "When we leave tonight, everyone's going to know you were the star of the show."

She found it hard to concentrate on the final act of the play. Not with what he was doing to her. Once the lights darkened again, his hand went to her lap, nimbly opening the bottom buttons of the coat. She was amazed at how he could flip them with his finger and thumb, unfastening them so easily with just the one hand. When he reached her waist, he stopped, allowing the rest of the coat to remain fastened, and while she remained covered, that didn't stop her from feeling exposed in her head.

Pulling the coat open, he did expose part of her body, namely her left leg. Sliding his fingers up the inside of her thigh, he carefully removed her imitation Beretta, making sure to bump the butt of the weapon against her pussy. He then slipped the toy gun inside his coat pocket as smooth as a pickpocket hiding his pinch. Returning his hand, he slowly crept up her leg until his fingertips brushed against her slit. She bristled, her breath catching as she sat up a bit to avoid the contact, fearful of what he might do next.

It would have been hard for him to finger her, what with all the people around. The chance of them being noticed was much greater than what it would have been in a movie theatre. But that didn't mean he didn't have something else in mind before he started. His hand went back to his pocket, and seconds later he was deftly slipping her vibrating egg inside her dripping cunt.

"Oh," she panted, a small shudder hitting her hard. She knew instantly what was about to happen and there was nothing she could do about it. Well, she could tell him no and end up making yet another scene, so she nervously awaited what she was now viewing as her fate.

There was no subtleness to his method. He switched the control to high and stuffed it inside the holster still strapped to her thigh. Closing her coat, he sat back to watch the end of the play. Ann crossed her legs, trying to quiet the sound. She even sat up straighter a second time, hoping to muffle it more, but in reality, it was only in her head. Neil couldn't hear it at all over the booming voices of the actors on stage. That didn't help her though, as she gripped the arms of the chair, trying to suppress the orgasm that was going to build up inside her.

Thankfully she found a way to control it by moving around in her chair; or squirming as it were. She would change positions, hoping to be subtle about it, tying not to attract any more notice than she already had. It was all in her mind, but there was no denying how she felt inside; that everyone was looking at her, or could tell what she was up to. It reminded her of the psychological games he would do to her when she submitted to him, and it felt real.

The desire to cum was becoming overwhelming, however. She was so horny she couldn't stand it, and he had given her an avenue for the release she craved. But conventional wisdom and decency screamed for her to hold back; to deny that which she wanted most. She could have cared less about what was happening inside the theatre at that moment. His words rang true. Fuck the play, all she cared about was fucking. She needed his big cock in her tight pussy, and the vibrator was reminding her of that as it buzzed inside.

She didn't remember the end of the performance, other than it was ending. Whatever happened in front of her was secondary to what was going on in her seat, between her legs. Gripping the arms of the chair tightly, she closed her eyes, feeling the tremor building, knowing it was going to become an earthquake any moment. The only question was how high it was going register on her orgasmic Richter scale.

When the final curtain fell, the crowd stood as one, giving the cast and the crew behind it a standing ovation. Save for one. Ann held firm in her seat, spreading her legs as her back arched, her body shaking violently. Neil smiled as he looked out of the corner of his eye; she was biting her lip, fighting the urge to yell out with some of the others cheering. She likely could have gotten away with announcing her climax if she'd wanted, but decorum once again dictated how she was reacting to doing something so sexual in public.

Nearing the end of her orgasm, Neil held her arm, lifting her to her feet. She was a bit wobbly, and she leaned against him, holding onto his shoulder for support.

"There he is. Up on stage, mocking us with his bows... and I can't get a shot off for fear of hitting some innocent bystander," he said dejectedly.

Her thoughts weren't on the plot of their game. They were on the byproduct he was giving her. He had his hand wrapped around her waist, holding her as another shudder ripped through her body like a flash flood.

"Oh god, James... I'm cumming again," she whispered, her eyes clamped tightly shut.

"Listen to them clapping for you, Pamela," he chuckled, feeling her trembling body against his. The troupe finally finished their curtain calls, and he helped her back into her seat. "It's almost time for yours, Miss Bouvier."

"I'm afraid to ask what that means," she said, collapsing into the soft cushions of her chair.

He sat next to her in his, watching as the crowd slowly started making their way to the exits. "You'll see. But I promise you, when the night is over, all these people won't be discussing what they just saw on stage."

She shuddered again, the egg still moving inside her wet pussy. It surprised her it didn't shoot out when she stood up. Now that she was seated again, she wondered if she'd be wearing it home like that. Perhaps he had plans to make her cum again in the lobby, knowing she wouldn't be able to hold in her screams a second time; not with the way her clit was now so sensitive.