Pearls

"You look beautiful," he said with a seriousness that took me back. I looked beautiful.

"I want to ask you something." The panic those words invoked must have shown on my face. He quickly added, "It's not commitment or even anything kinky." He hesitated, "I think it will make more sense if I just show you."

He took my hand again and led me up the stairs. I let my mind flutter to the top of the stairs, looking back at us from where the dancers still prepared for their entrance. A handsome older man in a gorgeous suit lead a young woman, who was perhaps beautiful, up a set of stairs that seemed to alight with the colors of the setting sun. When we reached the top, I glanced up at the standing dancer. She was the same, beautiful and frozen, with an intimacy and wisdom that couldn't quite be put into words.

He led me into the same beautiful bedroom and sat me on the bed. I kicked my shoes off onto the soft, spongy rug and folded my legs under me as I settled myself comfortably on the bed. The skirt of my dress became a circle of white in the center. Byron stood at the edge of the bed again, looking at me, almost breathing me in. He stooped to kiss me. I met his lips hungrily, anxious for the pleasure we had experienced together a week before.

"Wait," he said, "not so fast. I have unusual foreplay in mind. I think you will enjoy it."

He walked to the wardrobe across the room and gently opened one of the doors, letting it fall open. Hung on the inside of the door was the most enormous, beautiful pearl necklace I had ever seen. Layers and layers of strands of pearls crisscrossed over one another. Each a different length; some stretched feet towards the floor, while some were barely long enough to encircle a neck. The pearls were all shapes and sizes. Every strand a different shade, weaving over and under each other, creating the form of a dress. A single strand of diamonds sparkled from within the mix, dazzling against all the pearls it snaked in and out of. The multiplicity of strands lead back a white satin bow, evidently meant to be tied around the neck. It was an orgy of wealth and extravagance, of sexuality and elegance. It existed to be worn, to be possessed. It was an object of immeasurable appeal and inaccessibility.

"It is..." I breathed, lost for words, "unbelievable."

"I want you to wear it." I looked up at him. "I want to see you shower in it. I want to watch you and these pearls get very wet."

"Yes," I said, feeling that same new confidence. This was unexpected, and very nearly ridiculous. Yet, I wanted that too.

He helped me off the bed and stripped my white dress off me, kissing each of my breasts as they became exposed. He ran his hands across my ass as he pulled my panties off. For the briefest of moments, he slid one large finger into where I was already wet. Then he helped me into the necklace. It was enormous and heavy. The weight of it forced me to stand straighter and taller to support it. Pearls started tight across my neck and fell downward at different lengths, covering my breasts. My nipples poked through strands as they became hard under his gaze. He adjusted the layers that would normally conceal my stomach to instead fall down my back and rest on the base of my spine, covering the beginning of my ass but exposing the two half-moons below. More strands cascaded downward, stopping short of obscuring the curves of my thighs.

He did not look at me, did not yet take it all in. Instead he took me by the hand and led me through a door and into an unsurprisingly exquisite bathroom. Yellow marble covered the entirety of the high-ceilinged room, apart for one entirely mirrored wall. Across from this wall, adjacent to the his-and-hers marble sinks, was a glass box of a shower. He opened the door to the shower and turned on the water. As it heated up, he began to take off his suit, setting the pieces on the counter by the sink, until he stood before me in just his white boxer-briefs. He stuck a hand in the shower, adjusting the temperature a final time. Then, without looking at me, gestured that I should enter.

I walked into the glass box, shutting the door behind me. I turned, catching sight of myself in the floor to ceiling mirror across from me. I looked fierce, like a lioness, extravagant pearls draped across my body. I tilted my head back and smile. That is what agency felt like, what power over my own body felt like.

Without thinking a great deal about what Byron was doing, I began to get very wet. I leaned my head back into the perfectly hot stream of water and relished the feel of it sliding down my head and sweeping my hair behind me. Then, I closed my eyes and stood under the tap, feeling the water cascade down my body, bouncing and rolling over row after row of pearls. I lifted my arms above my head and stretched, feeling the pearls adjust under my rising breasts. I turned around, pulled my hair over one shoulder, and watched as the water fall down my back and over each ass check. I was enjoying how it pooled on the tops of the pearls.

I wondered what Byron was doing and turned to see him watching me, mesmerized as I played in the water and with the necklace and my body. I was enjoying the harmony of all three. The only change I could see in his appearance through the glass was the hardness evident through his boxer-briefs. I continued, bolder now. I held each of my heavy breasts in a hand lifting them one at a time into the stream of water. We both watched the strands of pearls rising on top of them, and the way water cascaded off them. I began to play with the nipple of my right breast with one of the strands, running a large pearl around and around it, making it harder and harder. I looked up at Byron again. He was almost obscured by the condensation collecting on the glass.

"You better come in," I called, bold. "You'll miss the show."

He strode inside, discarding his boxer-briefs as he went. He was hard and protruded more than a few inches ahead of him as he made his way to me and grabbed me with the ferocity I had been waiting for all evening. He grasped my forearms, slamming me against the glass of the shower and kissed me so hard that I tasted blood. I moaned with pleasure against his lips. Then he turned me around and pressed me against the glass, wiping the condensation away from my face.

"Do you like what you see?" he whispered into my ear.

I did. Reflected in the mirror across from the shower, I could see myself through the places where my body had wiped away the condensation. I could see my breasts pressed against the glass, pearls cutting into their soft tissue in a painfully pleasurable way. I could see his hand, slipping through strands of pearls to find my clit. He found it. I gasped making condensation briefly appear on the glass. Vision blurring with the pleasure of him playing with me, I struggled to take in the rest of what I was seeing. Then looking straight back at me, I saw myself again, the fierce part of me, the pleasure in my face, the wild abandon in my eyes. I came, hard and swift against the glass, feeling the squirt from inside run into the water already circling down my thighs.

He turned me to face him.

"I want you," I breathed. "I want you inside me. I want you now."

Moving quicker than I though possible, he reached and turned off the shower, and opened the door, grabbing a condom from somewhere close by. He slipped it on as he came back inside. As quickly as he had left he was back, pinning me to the glass again.

"You want me?" he asked, almost grunting. "Tell me how much."

"I want you," I gasped back "I want you more than I have ever wanted anyone. Please. Please. Fill me."

On my last word he swung my leg up, hooking it in the crook of his arm, pearls cascading down my other hip. Then he was in me. Pinning me hard against the glass. I gasped. I had missed the feeling of him inside me. He slid out and then in me again, the pearls covering my ass rapping the glass as he did; and again, another rap. The clinking of the pearls all over me accompanied his strokes inside of me. The excess and the pleasure of the situation overtook me and I came again, thoughts swimming with pearls and water and him inside me.

"Did you cum again?" he asked, smiling. I nodded. "Good. I didn't know how much longer I was going to make it."

And with that he was pumping within me, fast and hard, pearls rattling everywhere. My squeaks of ecstatic pain mingled with his groans until finally he shuddered against me, panting.

He slid out of me, legs shaking, and sat hastily on the shower floor. After a moment's hesitation, I joined him, strands of pearls rattling as they settled. A minute passed, we looked at each other, and together, began to laugh.