Dinner and a Show

"Driving, remember?" she chides gently and pulls her hand away, placing it back on the steering wheel.

He chuckles softly and then continues,

"As I was saying... I won't distract you while you're driving, but when you stop at a red light, like the one right up ahead..."

She hears the wickedness in his voice and wonders if he intends to turn the toy on again. The light turns green just as she pulls up to it and she shoots him a triumphant grin as she follows the last car into the intersection.

He leans back in his seat and gives her thigh a tiny squeeze,

"There are plenty of lights along our route."

For the next two lights they hit a green streak and she begins to relax until he says,

"If the light turns yellow, don't run it."

She quirks an eyebrow at him but he meets her gaze straight on and only adds, "watch the road."

Sure enough, the next light she approaches turns yellow just as she gets to it. Mindful of his direction, she slows down and stops, earning herself an indignant honk from the driver behind her.

"Boston drivers..." he shakes his head in mock disgust and she splutters, almost choking on a burst of laughter. She's seen him drive...

The light is now red and she can feel her thigh muscles tensing, waiting, wondering what he'll do. She doesn't have long to wait.

"Bend your left leg at the knee and keep it out of the way," the command is given calmly but there's a definite edge of warning should she decide to argue.

She gives a brief inward thanks for having an SUV and sitting higher than most drivers, but just then another, larger SUV pulls up alongside and she cringes, wondering if a passenger can look at her car and see inside; see his hand moving slowly over her thigh to the junction of her thighs.

Thankfully the people in the car next to her are otherwise occupied and pay her no heed. She glances at him and the wicked look in his eyes tells her that this discomfort, this exposure, the risk of being seen is exactly what he had in mind. Out of the corner of her eye she sees the light change to green and immediately his hand withdraws back to her thigh, caressing it softly, drawing patterns on the lace and on the bare skin above it.

At the next light the hulking SUV is still next to her, the two men in it still oblivious to what's taking place right under their noses. His hand has now moved quicker, slipping between her legs, fingers running along the folds, teasing gently, eliciting an involuntary sigh of mingled embarrassment and pleasure.

Her left leg trembles along the door as she suppresses the overwhelming desire to clamp her legs together. Suddenly the man in the car to her left glances out the window and she reacts without thinking. Legs shifting, she traps his hand between her thighs, not caring that she disobeyed him once again, intent only on covering herself from the prying eyes of a stranger.

The light changes to green and she shoots through the intersection, overtaking the car to her left and sliding in front of it. His hand is still trapped between her thighs until she remembers and lets her legs fall open again, allowing him to withdraw it back to her thigh.

He drums his fingers briefly on her skin and then speaks,

"Do that again and the sweater comes off."

"But..."

The silence tells her all she needs to know and she cringes knowing that he's immune to further beseeching. She shudders and vows to stay in the leftmost lane for as long as possible.

As they approach the next light, he takes his hand off her thigh and puts it on her wrist. As she obediently stops at a yellow light, much to the indignation of the driver behind her, he pulls her hand off the wheel and guides it downward, saying only,

"Touch yourself," his fingers on her wrist are gentle but they tighten slightly as she hesitates. He's never asked her to do this before. She rests her small hand against herself and feeling the pressure from his fingers, allows one to slip between the folds.

His voice is soft as he continues, "Tell me what it feels like."

She literally cannot speak as embarrassment clogs her throat. She shakes her head and at that moment the light turns green and she yanks her hand away, replacing it firmly on the wheel.

He chuckles,

"There's always the next light."

The next two lights are green and she can see the mall up ahead, only one light left between them and the book store. He sees it too and smiles inwardly at the almost palpable relief in her posture.

"I could of course make you drive around the mall a few times..." he lets a pause develop, just to let her wonder, and then continues, "But I won't. I'm nice that way." He winks at her and in spite of herself, she can feel herself relaxing and smiles widely back at him.

The last light is still green when she pulls through the intersection and slowly glides into the parking lot. All of a sudden the realization that she's still without a skirt and now in a very well-lit parking lot still teeming with shoppers sets in and she turns to him, question clearly written on her face. His face is inscrutable and for a moment she wonders whether he'll make her get out of the card and put on her skirt afterwards.

Then he smiles and hands the skirt to her, shaking his head in mock sorrow,

"Really... such low opinions you harbor," he winks at her as she slips the skirt over her legs. She grins impishly back and retorts,

"Oh, you poor, misunderstood Dom..."

He raises an eyebrow and she giggles as she jumps out of the car, more confident now that she's dressed and surrounded by people. He joins her and wrapping an arm around her shoulders, leads her back into the book store.

The place is more crowded than earlier and they wander around the different sections, chatting and laughing. At one point they end up in the cooking section next to the restrooms and she stops, leaning close to him as she whispers,

"May I remove it now?"

He feigns ignorance and retorts in normal volume, "Remove what? Oh, you mean the..." the last words are muffled beyond recognition as she clamps her hand over his mouth, turning crimson. His tongue sneaks out and licks her palm, tickling her hand as his fingers circle her wrist, pulling the hand away from his lips.

"Such a disrespectful sub..." He shakes his head but he's smiling. He leads her over to one of the stuffed armchairs and sits down, pulling her between her legs so she would have to bend at the waist to lean down to him.

She knows what he's doing, a moment's decision and then another impish grin lights up her face as instead of leaning forward she gracefully sinks to her knees in front of him and looks up at him. He raises an eyebrow but doesn't say anything.

She waits for a moment and then repeats her question,

"May I?" her hands are on his knees, rubbing in gentle circles.

He leans forward, replacing her hands with his elbows and taking hold of her arms as he responds,

"Yes, you may remove the toy now."

She's about to get up when his hands on her arms stay her movement as he continues, "You may also insert the other toy you brought."

He watches her face but for once she doesn't argue, though he knows it costs her. She holds his gaze for a moment as if considering her response and then nods, standing up and heading to the restroom.

When she emerges he's still in the armchair, leafing through a cookbook someone left on a nearby table. As she approaches him, he stands up and taking her hand, leads her deeper into the store to the Science and Computers sections in the back.

She blushes as she remembers their first "date", in the same quiet sections of the store.

He stops now in a secluded corner formed by a wall and the side of the customer service counter. The counter is deserted and she breathes a sigh of relief even as he boxes her in, a hand on each side of her and says,

"Unbutton your skirt."

She draws back and glances around the room, raising her eyebrows in a silent question. He gives her a crooked smile in return and adds,

"Unless you prefer to slip your hand in under the hem. I would think that would be more revealing, but it's your choice."

She gasps, "You wouldn't..."

He smiles back sweetly and agrees, "No, I wouldn't... You will, though."

She shakes her head at him, too outraged to even speak and then squeezes out,

"No," shaking her head again for emphasis.

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes," his fingers hook her chin and force her eyes up to meet his. "Yes."

She swallows, looking him straight in the eyes, but her left hand inches down to her side and unsnaps the two fake buttons on her skirt.

"Good," he gives a nod of approval before continuing, "now wet the middle finger of your right hand."

She bites her lip and looks down as she prepares to do as he asks but the fingers under her chin force her gaze back up.

"Don't look away again," he leans forward to touch his lips briefly to her forehead and then moves back again, holding himself about a foot away.

She wets her finger as instructed and waits, unwilling to move until he tells her to. He chuckles inwardly at this show of silent defiance but outwardly he runs a thumb along her chin, holding her face up and gives the next instruction,

"Now slip your hand inside the waistband of your skirt and touch yourself." He waits a moment as her hand begins its downward journey and slips inside the skirt and then finishes, "I want you to make yourself cum."

A sharp intake of breath and slightly parted lips are his only answer as she swallows the retort and looks away. Immediately his thumb on her chin reminds her and her startled gaze flies back up to meet his calm one.

"You will look at me until you cum. And ..." he lowers his head closer to hers, "If I even suspect you are faking it, I'll make you do it until I'm satisfied that you've cum."

She nods, excitement and fear commingling as they race through her. Her fingers move over her flesh as she stares into his eyes.

The world around them fades away as her whole being is concentrated on the sensations aroused by her fingers and on the heat in his eyes. As her excitement builds, her left hand finds his right and the fingers interlace, communicating their mutual arousal through little tugs and squeezes.

Suddenly she squeezes hard on his hand and a grimace distorts her face. Her eyes break away from his and her head falls onto his chest, as a soft sigh emerges from her mouth and shudders convulse her entire body.

He releases her hand as his arms wrap around her shaking frame, holding her close, molding her to him. Seconds tick by as they embrace in the corner, lost in each other.

As the real world begins to take shape around them once again, she's about to pull away and that's when she hears his softly spoken words.

"You please me very much."

The End