The Wayklin Dream Pt. 02

"I know. Come on, I think I know the one I want."

Byron took them straight to the cross pendant necklace.

"Oh my, it's gorgeous. And it's five thousand dollars!"

"I know," Byron frowned, "I thought these things were like thirty thousand. What's wrong with this one? Let me go and talk to the lady."

In the end, Sara managed to convince him that five thousand was already ridiculous, and if he spent more than that she would walk out.

"But at five thousand," Sara said firmly, "I will wear that necklace and only that necklace in any place of your choosing and you may fuck the hell out of me."

"Anywhere I want, huh?" Byron smiled.

"Anywhere you want."

"Okay, okay, that one will do," he told the lady. "The rest can go away. We'll take this. And we'll wear it now please."

"It is truly gorgeous," Sara said, holding the diamond-encrusted cross.

"Then it's in the right hands," Byron said, and Sara kissed him.

Outside in The Lofts, they passed a Jimmy Choo store. Byron was about to say she needed shoes for the dress, so Sara took his hand and pulled him along to the escalators, down and away from the luxury stores.

"Buy me a soda," she said, "If you feel the need to spend your money."

"But your shoes are orange, it doesn't match."

"Kate Spade would do it."

"But you need a first-class experience."

"Then take me back to the hotel, take me to your room, and put me in those beautiful thousand thread-count sheets."

"See?"

"What?"

"You are an easy lay."

"Grr."

Back at the hotel, though, they didn't go straight to the room. As they passed the salon, Sara asked if she could show the hair guy her new dress.

"Absolutely," Byron smiled, happy she wanted to show off.

"He'll love it!"

The hair guy literally squealed when he saw Sara.

"Sit!" he demanded. "You cannot leave here til I do your hair. I have the most wonderful inspiration."

Both of them looked at Byron as if waiting for the boss's permission.

"Do it, of course!" Byron smiled, and when the hair guy kept looking at him, he added, "Yes. I'm paying!"

"Okay, wonderful! I need an hour. Maybe ninety minutes."

Byron loved how thrilled Sara was at how thrilled the hair guy was, and the prospect of a tailored hairstyle. He looked at his watch.

"You have until seven. Then I'm taking her straight from here to dinner. Are you okay with that Sara?"

"Oh," she said, suddenly worried, "But you wanted to... in our room... thousand thread-count?"

Byron grinned, happy that she was thinking of what he wanted.

"Plenty of time later. You'll get it, never mind."

Byron left them to get himself ready, going back to the room to shower and put on his black tie. Ready at 6:15, he took the chance to give himself a Manhattan at the cocktail bar. It was a nice moment to stop and breathe. The plan with Sara had gone well, he liked that girl. He was still amazed she said yes to his proposal. He asked without thinking, it was an idea that came out of his mouth without any thought. As Sara had suspected, he was hesitant to go through with it once she replied. He never expected she would say yes. He had to scramble together clothes for the wardrobe, and all of their reservations. The hotel was a big help. Byron just hoped it didn't get back to his family. This type of liaison was severely frowned upon, letting a stranger into their world. It was a risk. But Sara had been so sweet and genuine when she talked about her dream, a paternal instinct kicked in. And, yes, admittedly a carnal one. But he never thought Sara would actually come. And when he got her to have sex the first minute, he didn't think she would actually do it. He expected she would break away and ask to go back home. And yet, look how it had turned out. It wasn't just Sara having the time of her life.

"One more. Quick," he replied to the barman.

At seven on the dot, he walked into the salon to be presented with a 'wow'. One from him and one from Sara.

"You're dressed up!" she said, surprised at the formality of his suit.

"And you're stunning," he said back, mouth open. The hair dude beamed with pride.

"I didn't have much time, I know you wouldn't want us a minute late for seven. I know you're a stickler for time."

"You're a genius," Byron told him. He walked all around Sara. She had a bob cut with a fringe - but he hadn't cut a hair. It was all in the way he tied it up and styled it.

"How?" Byron asked, trying to look under. "A wig?"

"Of course not!"

"Sara, this style, suits the dress perfectly. Stand up? Spin?"

"Do I need to be careful?" she asked the hair guy. "Can I move?"

He laughed. "It will stay tight until you sleep on it."

Sara did her spin, to the applause of the boys. Sara bit her lip, and said there was just one more thing, though.

"Can you keep these in your pocket?" she asked Byron, reaching under her dress to pull her panties down and step out of them. "I think you've earned the right to have a girlfriend that doesn't wear panties tonight."

"Thank you," Byron bowed politely, putting them in his waist pocket. "And now, to the helicopter. We have a flight to catch."

"What?"

"She'll need to wear a headset for comms and stop the noise. Can it go on the hair?"

"Very slowly. Very carefully. And sit still," he told Sara, then they were gone.

"I almost dare not ask where we are going," Sara said, walking fast to keep up.

"The opera."

"The opera? Where?"

"Royale Opera House."

"Wait? Isn't that in London?" Sara said.

"Hmm, I'm impressed you know that. And clearly, we are not flying to London in a chopper. We're going to the Royale Opera House, not the Royal Opera House. That small e makes a big difference. It's an attempt at a new-world replica. Not the best, but as good as you'll see around here. We'll have a short helicopter from here to the airport, then a car will drive us."

"What time does it start?"

"Curtain opens at eight, but we'll have dinner first, we'll come in at the interval."

"Really? You don't mind missing the first half? We can eat later, or skip and have a big breakfast," Sara suggested.

"No!" Byron sneered. "Why would I do that? I hate opera."

"Then... why are we going?"

"Because it's the thing to do, Sara. You can't have a weekend of luxury without a trip to the opera."

"Oh my god," she laughed.

The helicopter trip was short, but gorgeous in the late afternoon sun. The car that picked them up was a proper limousine that time, and dinner was at a restaurant right next to the opera house, a restaurant without an English menu.

"There's no point to read the menu anyway," Byron whispered. "We just tell them what type of food we are looking for and let them choose. Watch."

When the waiter came over, he of course came straight to Byron.

"Sir? Have you chosen?"

Byron put the menu down, ignoring it.

"Two starters to share. Something small and make sure it is unique please, something this restaurant specializes in. One main poultry, one main fish, we'll take the chef's decision on which dish is best today. A Campari aperitif for each of us, and please if you could choose us a crisp white wine."

"Certainly sir."

The waiter explained his recommendations, all of which were approved by Byron.

"I didn't understand any of what he just said," Sara admitted once he was gone.

"Good! Then you must be having a new experience. That's the whole purpose of our weekend, so it's good."

"I still don't understand how I got here," Sara pondered. "How did this happen again?"

"I don't know," Byron laughed. "I had a spur-of-the-moment idea, and crazily you said yes."

"It's been amazing," Sara said genuinely.

"You've been amazing. I said you'd be my girlfriend for the weekend and it feels just like that."

"It does. Thank you."

"Hey, I need to thank you. I know I've been teasing you about being an easy lay, but I'm sure it was tough having to let a stranger cum in you as part of the deal."

"I never thought I'd actually do it. I thought I'd chicken out. Using my... vagina, to get something in return, it's... it's what... it's not me. You know?"

"I know. It's what's made it special," Byron said, taking out her panties and running them through his fingers. "You are sitting over there with one dress on. Nothing else. I love it. You are adorable."

"One dress and a five thousand dollar necklace," Sara corrected him.

"And orange shoes," Byron added.

"Oh, no, sorry, I kicked them off," Sara told him. "Is it rude?"

"As long as you put them on when we leave, you'll be fine!"

"Not those, though," Sara said, nodding at the panties.

"No, these you don't need."

The meal was of course debaucherously superb, and the wine, but as soon as the meal was finished they needed to hurry to arrive at the opera in time before the interval was over.

Of course, Sara should not have been surprised they had a private booth at the top of the theatre to the left of the stage. She had no idea which opera it was, what the story was, or what they were saying, she was simply overwhelmed by the darkness, by the lights flashing and the outrageous voices of the singers.

"Is it always this dark?" Sara whispered.

"It's Don Giovanni," Byron said as if that was meant to mean something to Sara. She looked around them. With the wall she was up against, the only people that could see her were across the other side of the theatre in the upper tiers and booths. At that distance, she tried to work out what those people over there were wearing. Unless they leaned forward, it was too dark to see. So she slyly reached behind and wriggled the zip on her dress down without disturbing Byron, who had opera glasses, of course. With the zip down, she wriggled the dress off her shoulders, pushing back into the seat to keep in shadow. With it bunched around her waist, she slowly lifted her hips to pull it down her legs and fall to her ankles. Slowly kicking off her shoes, she leaned over to Byron's ear and whispered, "Now I'm only wearing the necklace."

Byron turned to see what she was talking about. In the dark and half-light, he could see she was entirely naked. He soaked it in for a moment and then returned to watch the opera.

"You, Sara, are a remarkable woman," he said in a quiet moment, still watching the stage.

"Do you want to fuck me?"

"Yes. Yes, I do."

Sara stood as discretely as she could and moved to the back corner of the booth, away from her dress on the floor. Byron picked it up and put it in her seat, conscious of its value, left crumpled on a dirty floor. He stood swiftly as if going to the bathroom, then stood behind Sara in the corner.

"You better let me against the wall," Sara whispered. "The light is flashing on me here."

"Then keep your arms down, so people can see your tits."

Byron did not need to get undressed or even take his pants off. He just needed to open his zip and let his erection spring free. Reaching around to Sara's mound, he guided his cock head to her hole.

"Jesus, you're wet," he groaned, sinking into her. He held her arms so any observant people across the way could see her tits wobble as he humped her.

"I love you in this necklace," he said. "Every day you wear it, you have to get fucked, okay? That's the deal of keeping it."

"Even if it's not with you?"

"No matter where you are or who you are with, if you wear that necklace, you have to be fucked that day."

"Okay."

Byron let himself cum quickly. It wasn't wise to make a long show of Sara's naked body being jolted as he nailed her from behind, facing the stage. He pulled out, tucked in, and returned to his seat, letting Sara sink back into the shadows. She stood, shaking and naked, waiting for the sperm to stop leaking from her vagina so later she wouldn't be wetting her dress or the seat. Byron leaned over and took the dress and held it, enjoying that his girl was up against the corner in the shadows, nude.

"How long are planning to stay there like that?" he asked after a few minutes.

"There are still bits of cum coming out. Oh, this takes so long to stop leaking."

Suddenly the stage became bright, lighting up the theatre for an extended time. Byron was looking through his glasses at guests on the other side of the hall that were looking through their glasses at his box.

"Okay, I think you better put this back on," he said. "You're getting attention."

Sara walked up behind him and took the dress. In full light, she fumbled it up over her hips and shoulders. She turned to ask Byron to help with the zip, then sat in her seat. As much as she tried to concentrate on the show, she couldn't.

"Do you think anyone saw me?"

"A few. Not many."

"Will we be in trouble?"

"Nah. You're dressed now. If security comes we'll say it must have been the box next door. Deny. Deny. Deny. Unless they have a video, which I sincerely doubt."

No one came for them. They were able to see the finish of the opera in peace, but then it was a rush to the airport.

"Noise curfew, need to be in the air before eleven-thirty," Byron told her.

"I'm running, I'm running!"

Going up in the helicopter in the dark was terrifying and thrilling at the same time. Once they left the edge of the city they were flung into blackness, with just instruments to guide the pilot. Sara was happy to land safely.

As they slowly walked from the landing pad through the hotel grounds, Byron stopped them to embrace. There was a gorgeously gentle warm breeze.

"So, opera?" he asked her.

"I don't know," Sara said as she kissed him.

"Would you go again?"

"I don't know."

"Are you glad we went?"

"Absolutely. It was a completely new experience."

Byron reached around and undid the zip on her Dior dress, then took the straps from her shoulders.

"What are you doing?" Sara asked, looking sharply around for any people - too inexperienced to know it was cameras she should have been keeping an eye out for.

"You said I could nail you rotten, in just the necklace, wherever I want. I want you naked out here, on the grass, hands on that palm tree."

"But... you had me naked at the opera house," Sara said, surprised to be stepping out of her dress in the open moonlight. "You had sex with me in a box at the opera!"

"Which was your choice."

"What?"

"I didn't ask you to do that. That was for you. I wouldn't have chosen there, it's way too risky."

"Ha!" Sara scoffed. "It wasn't for me!"

"Hold the tree tight," Byron told her, as he held her hips tight and thrust. Sara couldn't believe he was that hard again, like some Superman. Bare naked but for her shoes and her five-thousand dollar necklace, Byron fucked her until her hair finally lost hold of the style the hair guy had worked so hard to sculpt. Sara breathed in the night air, magical in the moonlight. She couldn't help but wonder what other animals mated at night in the outdoors. Possums? Owls? Bats?

The chubby guy on security camera duty was torn. His job was to alert the ground security guys there was inappropriate behavior occurring on the lawns near the west wing - but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He convinced himself they were doing no harm, and it appeared consensual; breaking them up seemed unnecessary, even cruel. The fact the girl had a spectacular body, and her breasts stunningly bounced back and forth as the guy pounded her rotten was entirely by the by. And it went so long, the girl facing the way of the camera, groaning or biting her bottom lip.

"Why can't I have that? Just once," he mumbled. In the end, he turned them off the main screen. It was too tormenting to watch what he could never have.

(Part 3 of 3 will be submitted on Monday May 22, 2023 for approval. As it is a live series, any suggestions before then welcome!)