The clothes were perfect.  Fitting exactly as they should but then, you’d know my size, my preference and just how to dress me.  You have more than once taken the lead in my attire and I’ve always loved each and every piece.  From the undergarments to the shoes. 

You have such fabulous taste!

The dress barely covered my ass and sitting would be interesting.  All sheer lace and strategic panels.  A perfect example of the trend the celebrities are creating across the internet and magazines.  I feel like a celebrity when I dress for you so this ensemble was nothing short of perfection.

The minutes ticked by as I sipped the bubbling drink, my tongue sweeping errant drops of the liquor away casually.  My eyes roaming the bar and occasionally glancing in your general direction.  The conference was winding down and I watched with mild amusement at the attentions of the obviously inebriated intern.  She had nothing on me.  I saw you ‘fend her off’ with all the gentleman behavior you could muster and I couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across my face as you did. 

I see you glance my way just as one of the many males that had been eyeing decided to offer pursuit.  I glance in your direction again and see the look that painted your face.  How could you expect me not to get hit on when you dress me up so?  The look wasn’t one of jealousy but one that said, to me anyway, “Rid yourself of that one…”  So much said with a single look, but then, you and I communicate in more ways than simply vocal. 

A look from you can tell me how your day was, what you want from me and I’m always willing to acquiesce.  You and I speak our own language and it’s one I wouldn’t unlearn for anything.

I casually pick up my glass, the bubble tickling my nose as I sip while listening to ‘Mr. Unknown’ drone on about his day… life… and possible future.  I smile softly whispering to him, “Thank you for the offer, but I’m waiting for someone.” 

He huffs a little but gets the point and walks away.  I see the look you cast my way and know that my ‘someone’ will be arriving soon. 

I feel your presence.  You always send delicious tingles down my spine.  I purr softly as you close the distance and can’t stop the little moan from escaping as I feel your hot breath against the nape of my neck.   You watch my body, listen to my breathing and know that you, and you alone, can do these amazing things to me.  Make me want so much with nothing more than a whispered promise against the shell of my ear or the slightest touch. 

I smile as you move in and take up residence on the stool next to me.  I feel your eyes roaming, notice the slight growl as you see the adornment I added to the ensemble.  The thin black leather choker wrapped around the porcelain flesh of my neck.  You see it and know… I am yours. 

I cast a sidelong glance at you from under thick lashes.  I see your smile and am rewarded by it.  The addition is approved.  Your approval only makes me want you more.  I lean close and whisper hotly against your ear, “Baby… I want you to rip these fine clothes off my eager body and fuck me like the whore I am.” 

You are accustomed to my trash talk which only makes your smile grow.  I lean in further and run my fingertips up your thigh to your groin.  I purr softly as I feel your manhood has swollen to attention.  Flash you a ‘fuck me’ look as my tongue sweeps my lips, offering a possible scenario to what may come. 

You know I love the taste of you and the way you fill every orifice I have to offer.  Our arrangement isn’t ‘common’.  My payment isn’t in the form of money or luxuries.  My payment is to feel of your astounding cock.  It’s the only payment I require. 

I feel your hand against my thigh, fingertips grazing the supple flesh just above the lace tops of the stockings you provided.  My entire body tingles with the touch.  Everything about you makes me tingle but your touch… oh… your touch is enough to light wildfires.  I spread my thighs and allow you complete and unhindered access.  My hips roll casually against the stool as you slip your hand further up and your questing digits find the lace panties and how wet they are. 

I’m a wet hungry mess, just like you prefer me to be.  I feel your fingers move against the offending lace, teasing and tormenting even more as you casually ask the bartender for a glass of Bourbon.  I whimper softly knowing you intend to savor the drink all the while teasing me into madness. 

You thank the bartender as he sets the glass down, smiling to me as you take the first sip of the alcohol.  I can smell it.  The hardy pungent odor of a drink that I’ve never grown to like, but willing to suffer it for you.  I know when you kiss me, I’ll taste it and have since associated the taste to you.  I smile as you continue to tease me while oh so casually sipping the drink.

My entire body thrums with anticipatory wanting as you work me into an unclaimed frenzy.  I feel your fingers slip under the sodden lace and find direct contact with my weeping sex. Gasping softly, my eyes widen slightly and heart races behind my heaving chest.  There are so many people around but you don’t seem to care.  You want what you want… the rest of the bar be damned.

I feel first one then another finger slip effortlessly into the fiery cavern that is my pulsating cunt.  I watch as you take another sip while your fingers move, your thumb finding the perfect resting place against my swollen clit and driving me mad with need.  So much need.  I want to moan, scream or cry out in pleasure but the circumstances don’t offer such exuberant displays. 

I see you smirk.  You know what I want.  What I need.  You are relentless.  Your hot whisper against my ear only adds to the torment, “You want to moan, don’t you, baby?  Want to cry out.  Want to cum.” 

You know your whore.  Know exactly how to play her and play her you do.  I am your instrument and my voice the orchestra that accompanies your Masterful strokes.  You press further, curling your fingers to just the right angle and cause my hips to jerk.  You know the spot and you know what will happen if you continue to tease it. 

I feel my bottom lips captured squarely between my teeth, nostrils flaring slightly and a soft keening whine builds in my throat.  You have me poised right on the edge of the abyss and are holding me there.  My nails rake against your thigh while my own tremble as I try desperately to hold myself together.  We are surrounded by bar patrons that seem oblivious to what is transpiring in their midst but you do not relent.

I feel your fingers move, grazing the spot and forcing sounds from my constricted throat.  Moans and whimpers burst forth mixing with the sounds of the growing crowd.  I watch you take another sip of your drink. 

Christ, how long does it truly take to drink two fingers of bourbon? 

I watch the devilish look in your eyes.  See the wickedness dancing there.   You don’t intend to let me come out of this unscathed.  You want me to cum… right here… in the middle of this bar with all these people.  You want to show them just how much of a whore I am… how your whore conducts herself. 

I feel the pleasure building like an out of control inferno.  I sense your pleasure at my acceptance of the fate you’ve brought me to.  My chest heaving, heart thundering and body trembling as you work and feel my cunt squeezing your fingers.  I am so close… so fucking close.

You take the last swallow of your drink, set the glass down and lean close.  I feel your hot breath, smell the bourbon and hear your whisper, “Cum.”