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Dinner Out, A Taste

Dinner Out, A Taste

Dinner Out – Chapter Four

Just a taste of my newly published book. Tell me what you think.

Available exclusively from Redmund Productions.


Our morning has exhausted us. I have explored boundaries, and both of us are in need of showers and a nap. Smiling, I nudge you with ass and legs, the only thing free; you have failed to unbind my wrists as you rest against me.

“What, woman?” you say with a gruffness to your voice.

“Darlin’, let me up, so I can run the shower and fix us some food.”

“Oh, shit. Sorry.” But I hear the smile in your voice.

I feel you staring at the view before you, arms still held taut, ass in the air, legs together and bent. Slowly you run your finger across my shoulders and then down my spine, stopping just above my crack. Then, with a deliberate and stinging slap, you bring your hand down on my ass cheek at the same time you wrench my legs apart so you are kneeling between them and have exposed all my private places without any impediment to your view.

“You know, I think I like you just the way you are, especially with my hand print across that ass.”

“Damn, that hurt.”

Chuckling, you move forward to reach me, and you once again begin exploring. You move the tips of your fingers across my shoulders, this time leaning forward and running your fingers down the insides of my arms to my breasts. Lifting me up you take my nipples, one in each hand rolling them through your fingers until they are hard, and I am nearly weeping with need for something more. Slowly, your lips come down on the back of my neck, your fingers never leaving their position on my now overly sensitive nipples. You gently take the place you found earlier, just behind my ear, between your teeth running your lips across my neck as if I were your last meal.

You continue to explore neck, shoulders and spine with your teeth and lips. Finally, your hands continue their downward exploration of my now shuddering body. Without the pillow holding me up, I would not hold this position. Finally, you find my clit, throbbing, engorged and much in need of immediate relief, you move back from your spot kneeling so close to me. Now you can see me, still open and glistening wet. Despite my obvious need for you to fuck me, you move your hands down my ass and between my legs, touching your fingers to my clit and pushing your thumb inside me reaching for the rough circle of my G-spot. You massage me to a shattering orgasm. You are learning my body and my reactions so well by now. With a kiss to the still stinging handprint on my ass, you release my bonds.

“Now, woman. Now you can run us a shower, and together we will make some food to sustain us for later,” you say with a smile. I am smiling, too, as I wonder if I will be able to stand on still wobbling knees.

We had agreed before this weekend together, one night would be spent out, dinner and dancing, somewhere dark and private. I have found the perfect spot; somewhere I have never been but comes with high marks for their discretion, food and music. You only insist on a few rules as we ready ourselves for a night on the town, that I wear my highest heels, a dress and that you have free access to ass and pussy throughout the evening. I think I have just the thing to satisfy your demands, though I am nervous at the thought I will be nearly naked in public.

The very thought of what you have asked of me, of going into public dressed as you want sends shivers up my spine. I have never been so daring, so audacious, not even in my fantasies. My world of corporate button-down suits and fitting in, of white-bread marital sex with three acceptable positions and rote outcomes was being turned upside down. I wanted this with you. I didn’t know truly what it meant, but I knew even if it was only this one single weekend, I wanted this with you. Now, standing before the mirror in a dress you had helped select via cell phone pictures from a dressing room, I wonder to myself can I carry this off. The look in your eyes, the flash of heat when you first see me as I emerge from the bedroom tells me all I need to know. I am beautiful to you.

About Scarlett Baker

Writer, artist and thrill seeker. Scarlett is a mystery, even to herself at times. Her exploration of love stories with a touch of the dark began when she found herself single and dangling by a thread of hope mixed with a splash of the terrible. Faced with being alone for the first time in nearly twenty years, with not a clue what to do with a vast future she decided to explore the world of her fantasies, something she had done little of up until now.

2 responses »

  1. Mr. Militant Negro

    Reblogged this on The Militant Negro™ and commented:
    This book is so many things. All extremely wonderful.

    Like

    Reply

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