My Four Aces Ch. 04

And then I felt another presence in our intimate space. Our contact was partially broken as Paul shifted to face Yana. His finger retreated from my clit, but still rested on my thigh as she set out appetizer plate in front of us, then presented him with a wine bottle. I was totally out of the loop on their conversation. No idea what was said. My brain was trying to clear the jumble of impressions: Yana, naked in Paul's kitchen versus Yana, standing in front of me in a white shirt, black slacks and tie; throbbing heat and dampness from between my legs versus the background buzz of the restaurant full of people; the pulsing electricity of Paul's hand on my thigh versus the heat I could feel from that table of businessmen in front of us, their chairs shifted so they could all look at us with just a slight turn of the head—and the realization that they must have been watching us! I was in such a fog that I don't really remember registering any of this, and at the same time every piece of it came into my brain with crystal clarity. Before I'd really had a chance to recover, Paul had sampled the wine and ordered our entrees and Yana had gone. Had she noticed anything? Did she know what we were talking about?

"Now, where were we?" Paul asked, as he turned to face me again. "Oh, yeah. Yana was naked and leaning up against my kitchen counter, begging me to suck her pussy. I stood up, grabbed her waist and spun her around, then slapped her ass and sent her scurrying into the living room. Nice image of those tight cheeks bouncing across the room, by the way. I told her to go over to the window and she did as she was told—which was very unusual for Yana. You remember the way my windows are set deep into the walls of the apartment because of that boxy roofline? Well, I opened the drapes and have her lean over with her hands on that deep windowsill, so she was looking out the window into the courtyard below and the window across the way. Then I slid up behind her and unzipped. She was panting for it now, saying all this stuff in Spanish that I knew meant she was really hot. I don't even think she realized my neighbor was watching

"See, I have this family who were my neighbors across the way and I saw the teenage son in his room almost every night, sitting at his computer, playing games on-line or surfing for porn or something. He was this chunky, greasy-haired kid, probably all of fifteen, and I'd never seen a girl near their apartment, much less in this guy's room, so I thought I'd give him a little thrill. He was there tonight, just sitting in the glow of his computer screen in a dark room.

"As I eased into her from behind, I could see our reflection in the darkened window. Her eyes were closed, her mouth was open and her boobs swaying with our rhythm. I was going too slow, I guess, and she only had one way of exerting any control in the situation now, so she slammed that tight little ass back against me and let out a sharp little cry, followed by this deep moan of satisfaction. Apparently, she liked what that did for her, 'cause she kept snapping her hips back every time I stroked in, just to make sure she got the maximum penetration. We got pretty active and Yana had to shift her weight forward. Her right hand slipped. She pulled it up and slapped it against the window to hold herself in place. Didn't want to lose an inch of the dicking I was giving her. Anyway, my neighbor's window must've been open, 'cause he heard the sound and glanced up from his screen – and he just froze. We were back-lit by the lamps in the room, but the lights were on in the courtyard and I knew from experience that you could see right in to people's apartments at night if they had their drapes open. He saw us, clear as day, but Yana's eyes were still closed so she didn't see him."

And then Paul just stopped talking. I suddenly realized my eyes were closed. All my focus was on getting to the orgasm he was being so careful to deny me. I was living that story with him in my mind's eye while my body was pulled in to the sensory experience of his finger in my pussy and the feeling of his warm breath on my neck. And then he stopped moving and talking all at once. I felt myself about to flip completely out of my skin. Paul had worked me up to such a pitch in just the few seconds since Yana had left the table that I wanted to scream

Slowly, regretfully, I came down from my high. I opened my eyes. I grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand up to my face.

"What happened? Did she notice him?"

"What do you think happened?"

"I think she opened her eyes when she came and she saw your neighbor boy watching and jerking himself off and she slapped you silly when she recovered enough to control her arms. I also think she still fantasizes about what you did to her."

"That's pretty close. She tried to slap me, but I took her over my knee and spanked her good, right there where the kid could watch. Then she got dressed and we went dancing. And she made me pay for it for the rest of the week with some unmerciful teasing in situations where I couldn't do anything about it. I don't know about that last bit. I think she liked my control over her a little too much, though, so maybe she does still fantasize about it."

"You still want her?" I asked.

"Like I said, sweetie, again and again and again."

"Would you like my help with that?" I heard myself saying, as my tongue darted out to taste his fingers, still damp with my juice.

"Open your legs a little bit," he said. I did what he asked instantly, even though his order seemed like a totalnon sequitor. At least it did until I looked up and noticed the table of older gentlemen next to our booth. They were looking at us—at me, really--and I suddenly realized that, since the booth was a step up from the floor, they had a clear view under the table and had been watching what Paul was doing to me! Paul didn't even have to touch me again. I'd been so close and the sudden stab of humiliation and excitement took me right over the edge into an orgasm I had to struggle to conceal from the whole restaurant. I bit my lip, my eyes closed, and the deep, loud moan I wanted to let out became a low, quiet moan into Paul's neck as I turned my head and ducked into his shoulder.

I couldn't believe what I'd said to him, couldn't believe the things he made me do. Even more, I was again struck by how much I was willing to do for him. I was, absolutely, his total slut. I knew it earlier today when he had me naked and sucking him off in the theatre, but in this moment, it sank into me like . . . like his hard cock. He was my master and my soulmate. I was his slave--and I felt more free than I'd ever felt in my life.

I looked up at him, pretending that the last couple of minutes since I last spoke hadn't happened, and said: "I think Yana's very pretty, and if you still want her, then I know I would enjoy her too--but I would never do anything like that without your permission, Paul."

"You've got it." He patted my head in a way that told me my actions had met with his approval. And then, as an afterthought, he added something that gave my pussy a sexy jolt, "And if you get a chance to be with her alone somewhere for a few minutes, take it. I want her to come home with us tonight."

I worked hard to be as tempting as possible to Ileana for the rest of the night, right through the salads and heading into the main course. Several glasses of wine made me bolder as the evening went on. My behavior was also of intense interest to the men at the neighboring table, and I threw an occasional coy glance their way as well, flashing them little glimpses of my bare pussy whenever Yana wasn't around. Paul helped, caressing my thighs under the table, easing my skirt up and tickling my still-damp outer lips with his sensitive fingers. We didn't say much, but we managed to look like we were carrying on a fairly normal conversation, even as my excitement built yet again.

As Yana walked by the table at one point, I flipped my hair mercilessly, showing loads of neck. Then, when she stopped to see if we needed anything, I asked about what she was wearing to the club tonight. She said she had a strapless top and a pleated mini that was just to die for, but that she wished she had a pair of shoes like mine. I said they'd look great on her, I bet, and she smiled, then leaned in and whispered in my ear, "Y'know, my girlfriend just loves open-toed sandals like yours. She starts by kissing my toes, then unstraps them while she works her way up my leg. My boyfriend is more interested in lingerie."

I must have looked kind of wide-eyed as she pulled back, but I managed a smile. It was pretty obvious that I was succeeding in the mission Paul had set for me—but if she was already in a relationship . . . or two . . . was it fair of me to tempt her? I thought about her lips near my ear, her warm, sweet breath, and the dance of her fingers in my hair and made up my mind that, if all is fair in love and war, lust must trump everything.

More evidence of that truth came a minute later, when the table of guys that had been watching me all night stood to leave. The older one, who seemed to be the one in charge, walked over to the table and spoke to Paul.

"I've taken the liberty of paying for your dinner, including a generous tip for your lovely waitress. It seemed only fair, considering how much enjoyment we've had from watching your date this evening. The view aside, the scent of her arousal added a piquancy to dessert."

Paul seemed surprised, but accepted the gesture graciously. I was too stunned by what he'd said to hear much of what happened for a minute. They could SMELL me?! I shivered as my humiliation deepened, my sense of being exposed was so acute—but I realized it didn't make me feel violated at all, just more . . . and this is really perverse, diary, but I'm really trying to tell you the truth . . . I felt more grateful to Paul.

The man then pulled a business card out of his jacket and handed it to Paul. I didn't even catch a glimpse of it, I was so caught up in my own thoughts. The guy was ignoring me now, even though I'd been the center of attention for his whole table for the last hour. I felt like was just an appendage to my man—and I guess, as far as he was concerned, I was. Heck, as far as I was concerned, that was pretty damn true!

"I hope you don't consider me too forward, but I run a sales-based business. Should your young lady ever like to make some money helping me out with some of my clients, I could promise to make it very worth her while. And yours."

Paul didn't breath for a second, but he was still looking at the card, so I don't think the man saw that. I realized what he was suggesting immediately and, again, my thoughts on the subject took a turn for the perverse. I was terrified that Paul might take him up on his offer, turning me into a whore. And then my terror was replaced with an expanding warmth as it occurred to me that, if that was what Paul wanted me to do, it would be exactly the right thing and, however humiliating I found it to be, I wouldn't be this man's whore, I'd be Paul's.

Still, I was relieved—and a little puzzled--when Paul looked up, he looked totally calm and cool and said: "Thank you Mister Collins. I don't believe I'd be interested in the proposition for Kim, but I may be able to offer you other help in the future." He slipped the card into his shirt pocket and Paul thanked him for his generous gesture in paying for dinner.

I wanted to ask Paul about what he'd meant as soon as Mr. Collins stepped away, but Yana was approaching the table with our dessert. Our distinguished voyeur thanked Paul again, joined his colleagues, and left.

As Yana set a tower of chocolate, pralines and whipped cream in front of us, she asked about my necklace, a gold heart pendant, I invited her to touch it. As she did, I pushed into her hand, persuading her fingers to dip into the v-neck of my dress and tease my nipple. She looked shocked for a second, then parted her fingers around the hard pebble it had become and squeezed, once, before sliding her hand out. ""Very nice," she murmured. My breathing was heavier. Her voice was a little shaky.

Paul continued gently caressing every part of me below the tablecloth throughout dessert. I was so grateful not to be sitting on my skirt with all the moisture I was generating. Even if the whole restaurant could smell me, I wouldn't ruin "The Terminator" with my juices.

I hardly tasted the beautiful confection because I was on the verge of cumming again. Yana was finally not so busy that she had time to notice us and figure out exactly what was happening, because she kept cruising by, smiling at us suggestively and asking if everything was to our satisfaction. She drawled out that last word with a little flick of her tongue that belonged right beside Paul's fingers, deep in my pussy.

With each trip by our table after that, Yana's looks grew more searching, her glances at Paul more libidinous, and her attention to our table almost excessive. By the time we were done with the dessert, Yana was looking at us like Paul was going to be her main course and I was destined to be her entire diet of sweets for the month. I was ready to be a multi-course meal for both of them.

As Yana came by for the empty dessert plates, Paul insisted that she toast us with the last of the champagne. Yana glanced around and saw her boss by the bar, scanning the room. "Can't do it, Paul. Gene would fire me in a second if he saw me drinking alcohol with a customer."

Paul smiled and said, "Well, you could have water and we could finish the champagne. And just so it's not a total waste, why don't you get a head start on the rest of us with this," and he pulled a little packet of white powder out of his shirt pocket and deftly dumped it into the fresh glass of water she'd just set down.

Yana looked first at Paul, then at the milky tendrils of powder dissolving in the water, with some suspicion. "And what is THAT?"

"Just a variation on X, Yana. Like we used to do at the clubs sometimes. This is powder, not pills and I was going to ask Kim if she wanted to try it later, but then we started drinking and X and alcohol don't mix. So, if you promise you won't drink tonight . . . " his words trailed off as he offered her the glass.

She smiled as she raised the glass and said, "You always did get the good stuff when you wanted it. Kim, Paul doesn't do drugs much, but he always went first class when he did."

We raised our glasses in a toast. Paul leaned into me and whispered, very, very softly so there was no way Yana could hear, "Ask for the ladies room, don't be surprised when she suggests an alternative. Go with what I told you and follow your instincts."

I asked for directions to the ladies' room. Paul said that he needed to make a quick phone call and would step out to the bar, which had quieted down since we arrived. The dining room was almost empty, too. We were Yana's last table of the night.

As Paul walked away, Yana said, "Why don't you come back through the kitchen with me. We've got a bathroom and a little co-ed locker room/shower combo. I'm done with my side work, so I'm going to change anyway and hang at the bar if there's time before we go."

Here was the opportunity Paul had suggested I take, if it came up. It was almost like he knew it would and I figured that, if he knew Yana as well as I suspected he did, he did know it would come up.

We walked back through the kitchen and all the line cooks stopped their clean-up to give us the eye. Again, my dress was doing its job. There was a sliding sign on the door that showed a little man or woman figure depending on how it was positioned. I guess that allowed the owners to pretend the room didn't go unisex, which probably would've upset them. Paul said they were pretty conservative.

Before I knew it, I was in the locker room, my business finished, and Yana standing before me in her bra and panties, holding out the little outfit she'd described earlier. It was adorable. Just like something I would have picked out for clubwear—very sexy, but not slutty. Watching her standing there like that, posed with her weight held just so, with a "look at you looking at me" smile on her face and Paul's instructions ringing right beside my own inclinations in my head, I blurted out the one thing guaranteed to get this ball rolling without further ado: "Oh, can I try it on?"

Her eyebrows arched up, but her smile deepened and I knew it was go for broke time. She handed me the outfit and, as I turned to hang it on the open locker door, I heard the click of the door lock. Yana said, "Just in case you don't like being surprised by somebody walking in while you're undressed."

I didn't respond directly, just turned my back to her and gestured for her to unzip me. Feeling her fingers at the base of my neck sent a shiver right down my spine and beyond. She made a point of standing very close behind me, caressing me with her free hand on my shoulder as the zipper dropped to the small of my back. She tugged the dress off my right shoulder, I shrugged it off my left, and "The Terminator" dropped to the floor. As I stepped out of it, I stepped back into her and her arms responded by encircling my waist and rising to cup my titties. I rolled my head back and she dove under my hair with greedy lips. I moaned and my nipples, already burning from a night of teasing from Paul, pulsed under her delicate fingers.

I was about to just sink into it and let her have her way with me, but then I remembered all the things Paul had revealed to me about her. And I recalled, too, that submitting to Paul was one thing – the only thing, in fact – so submitting to her was out of the question. She was going to have to give me what I needed on MY terms . . . and wow, did that thought put some sizzle in my snatch! (Like it needed any more by that point in the evening.)

It was hard, but I broke from her embrace, spun around and took her face in my hands. We were almost exactly the same height, but I was still wearing my heels, so it was easy plunge my tongue into her mouth, which was open in a small 'oh' of surprise. My hands skimmed down her body, teasing, searching hotly among the many soft, curvy surfaces she offered. Finally one hand came to rest on her left butt cheek and the other nuzzled under her lacey black bra to free up some of that mocha-brown boob I'd been fantasizing about all night. I pulled her into me as roughly as I could—I'm not all that strong, but I had plenty of motivation. She grunted, kind of surprised by the sudden turn of things, then got into it. I kissed down her neck to the nipple my hand had revealed, then sucked it deep into my mouth like it was the last gumdrop in the world and I was a gumdrop junkie. Her panting sharpened and was joined by something gutteral that crawled up from her belly, through her throat and out between clenched teeth.

Man, this sexual control thing was HOT!

Her hands went into my hair, holding me to her until I pulled back, leaving her panting for more. I held her at arm's length. I was panting too, but I did my best to keep it on the inside and give her my best ice queen stare. I just tried to do my best imitation of Paul from that point on.

"Take off your bra and panties."

She tried to make it smooth and seductive, but she was too hot and bothered Her impatience revealed itself in her timing, which was just a little too fast to be considered "in control." I felt real pride in this, since Paul had told me how much she liked her sense of control.

Once she was naked, I just looked at her. She hesitated, bit her lip, and said what I'd been thinking just a minute earlier: "I . . . I can't believe . . . All night I've been thinking about was getting YOU this hot . . . and now . . ." It dawned on me that she was still playing with me. I hadn't won yet. We were still in the middle of the game. She was going with the flow and giving me what she thought I wanted with the idea of getting my sympathy, then turning the tables. I could see the wheels turning. She had confidence in her abilities as a lover and figured even if she got me off first, she'd have me begging for more after a dose of what she could offer. She might very well think so, but the way I was feeling, I wouldn't have advised anyone to bet on that horse.