More!
This and the last story are from a longer series, which I'm not going to post 'cause some of it sucks
There were still several people in the hallways and the lobby, but somehow being in my new collar made me feel safe and protected from the strangeness around me, and the appreciative looks of these people toward my Mistress thrilled me too.
Yes, I thought, that’s right. I’m with her. She’s my Mistress. I smiled at a blushing young woman in a thin red collar, and she grinned at me, checking out Mistress Abigail’s rear end as we passed. It felt wonderful.
I drove the rental sports car according to Mistress Abigail’s directions about 2 miles to a small dark restaurant with the simple name “Bill’s” on the front sign in red. We parked in the small lot, which was nearly full, and I opened her door for her and we went in.
The outside of the building was a simple brick building with darkened windows, which made the inside much more startling. As soon as I opened the door for my Mistress the sound of a deep rumbling bass line could be heard, but it was not loud or overpowering. I could hear conversation over it easily, but it lent a club edge to the place. The walls were painted in startlingly bright swirling colors, but the ceiling and floor were both jet black and lined with backlights.
A host podium stood just inside the door, and a woman in a very short plaid skirt and black t-shirt stood beside it setting menus in their place.
“Two?” She asked.
“Yes,” replied Mistress Abigail. “A private booth please if you have one.”
“One just opened up. Follow me.”
We followed her into the dining room, which had about three dozen tables and booths, many of which were currently filled by couples and groups dressed very similarly to us. Many of the men and two of the women were shirtless, and I was mildly surprised to see that this was not limited to people who were in good physical shape. Wasn’t that fat guy in the corner embarrassed to be seen without his shirt on in public?
“If you keep staring, boy, these people will all have something to stare at,” Mistress Abigail threatened quickly. I obediently looked at the black tiled floor as we reached a round booth towards the back of the dining room, which was mostly surrounded by bright blue walls. The booth seat itself was glittered purple, and a red lamp hung over the black vinyl covered table.
“Trina will be with you shortly,” the hostess said, leaving two menus on the table. We slid into the booth, and my Mistress sat herself right next to me, with our legs pressed against each other. This firm touch alone was enough to stir my cock in my khakis, and I smiled. She leaned over so her mouth was nearly against my ear, and breathed gently across the back of my neck.
“I will order for you. Keep your eyes down; you will not need to look at the other patrons.”
“Can I get you two something to drink?” A voice asked. I continued to look at my hands, hoping I did not look to the waitress as if I were in trouble. She most likely knew though.
“I know what we would like to order,” Mistress Abigail replied, pushing the menus across the table.
“Okay, shoot then.”
“Two cokes, mine with slice of lime. Also, two hamburgers, no cheese, with lettuce, tomato, and onions.”
“Fries or baked potato?”
“Fries please. Hold onto the check too. If he behaves himself we’ll be having dessert.”
I smiled to myself with relief. If dessert was a possibility I must not be in too much trouble. The waitress wrote everything down and headed off for our drinks. As soon as she turned her back my Mistress’ hand slipped between my legs, and quite gently cupped my groin. My cock responded immediately to her touch, and she smiled as she felt it harden slightly beneath her hand. The black vinyl tablecloth ensured our privacy, and I kept my eyes firmly on my own hands above the table.
“Now, besides that mistake as we came in, you have behaved well today. I promised you we’d play more when we got here, didn’t I?”
“Yes, Mistress Abigail,” I murmured. Her hand began to slide along the length of my growing erection, and her mouth returned to my neck. She kissed me on my collarbone very lightly. A tiny gasp escaped my mouth as I thrilled at her touch.
Just as she unzipped my pants to retrieve my fully erect dick from my pants the waitress returned, and set the glasses onto the table. Mistress Abigail lifted her hand furthest from me, with a bill in it, and handed it to the waitress.
“Hold our food and give us a few minutes, okay?” She said. The waitress took the bill, winked, and headed towards a different table quickly. Then my Mistress’ hand was back in my boxers, pulling my hard cock free of its fabric prison, and quite firmly stroking it with one hand under the table. Her free hand lifted her drink; she pulled an ice cube between her teeth, and returned her very cold mouth to the back of my neck. I shivered, clenching my hands into fists as she ran the cold ice up to my hairline, and then down my neck to my shoulder. The ice cube melted quickly, leaving streams of water sliding over the front and back of my shoulder. Her hand never changed rhythm, pumping just as hard as I liked it.
When the ice cube was gone her free hand joined the other, and cupped my balls firmly. I grunted with pleasure, trying not to make any sounds louder than the low thudding of the music still playing on speakers overhead.
“I want you to come for me, boy, right in front of all these people. They are not looking though, so stay quiet. Come for me, but don’t get us kicked out.” Her mouth was back next to my ear, so close I could feel her breath. It raised the hairs on my neck.
Luckily I was very close to orgasm already, and knowing that was what she wanted was all it took. I spread my feet just slightly under the table, and took several gasping breaths as I came hard into her hands and onto the seat between my legs.
“Good boy… yes… I’ve wanted that from you all day, boy. Now zip up so we can eat.” She handed me a paper napkin from the table, and I carefully mopped up the seat between my legs while my breath and heart rate slowed. She got up from the table and walked towards the sign reading “Restrooms.” She spoke to our waitress on the way, and before she had returned our burgers were in front of us, ready to eat.
There were still several people in the hallways and the lobby, but somehow being in my new collar made me feel safe and protected from the strangeness around me, and the appreciative looks of these people toward my Mistress thrilled me too.
Yes, I thought, that’s right. I’m with her. She’s my Mistress. I smiled at a blushing young woman in a thin red collar, and she grinned at me, checking out Mistress Abigail’s rear end as we passed. It felt wonderful.
I drove the rental sports car according to Mistress Abigail’s directions about 2 miles to a small dark restaurant with the simple name “Bill’s” on the front sign in red. We parked in the small lot, which was nearly full, and I opened her door for her and we went in.
The outside of the building was a simple brick building with darkened windows, which made the inside much more startling. As soon as I opened the door for my Mistress the sound of a deep rumbling bass line could be heard, but it was not loud or overpowering. I could hear conversation over it easily, but it lent a club edge to the place. The walls were painted in startlingly bright swirling colors, but the ceiling and floor were both jet black and lined with backlights.
A host podium stood just inside the door, and a woman in a very short plaid skirt and black t-shirt stood beside it setting menus in their place.
“Two?” She asked.
“Yes,” replied Mistress Abigail. “A private booth please if you have one.”
“One just opened up. Follow me.”
We followed her into the dining room, which had about three dozen tables and booths, many of which were currently filled by couples and groups dressed very similarly to us. Many of the men and two of the women were shirtless, and I was mildly surprised to see that this was not limited to people who were in good physical shape. Wasn’t that fat guy in the corner embarrassed to be seen without his shirt on in public?
“If you keep staring, boy, these people will all have something to stare at,” Mistress Abigail threatened quickly. I obediently looked at the black tiled floor as we reached a round booth towards the back of the dining room, which was mostly surrounded by bright blue walls. The booth seat itself was glittered purple, and a red lamp hung over the black vinyl covered table.
“Trina will be with you shortly,” the hostess said, leaving two menus on the table. We slid into the booth, and my Mistress sat herself right next to me, with our legs pressed against each other. This firm touch alone was enough to stir my cock in my khakis, and I smiled. She leaned over so her mouth was nearly against my ear, and breathed gently across the back of my neck.
“I will order for you. Keep your eyes down; you will not need to look at the other patrons.”
“Can I get you two something to drink?” A voice asked. I continued to look at my hands, hoping I did not look to the waitress as if I were in trouble. She most likely knew though.
“I know what we would like to order,” Mistress Abigail replied, pushing the menus across the table.
“Okay, shoot then.”
“Two cokes, mine with slice of lime. Also, two hamburgers, no cheese, with lettuce, tomato, and onions.”
“Fries or baked potato?”
“Fries please. Hold onto the check too. If he behaves himself we’ll be having dessert.”
I smiled to myself with relief. If dessert was a possibility I must not be in too much trouble. The waitress wrote everything down and headed off for our drinks. As soon as she turned her back my Mistress’ hand slipped between my legs, and quite gently cupped my groin. My cock responded immediately to her touch, and she smiled as she felt it harden slightly beneath her hand. The black vinyl tablecloth ensured our privacy, and I kept my eyes firmly on my own hands above the table.
“Now, besides that mistake as we came in, you have behaved well today. I promised you we’d play more when we got here, didn’t I?”
“Yes, Mistress Abigail,” I murmured. Her hand began to slide along the length of my growing erection, and her mouth returned to my neck. She kissed me on my collarbone very lightly. A tiny gasp escaped my mouth as I thrilled at her touch.
Just as she unzipped my pants to retrieve my fully erect dick from my pants the waitress returned, and set the glasses onto the table. Mistress Abigail lifted her hand furthest from me, with a bill in it, and handed it to the waitress.
“Hold our food and give us a few minutes, okay?” She said. The waitress took the bill, winked, and headed towards a different table quickly. Then my Mistress’ hand was back in my boxers, pulling my hard cock free of its fabric prison, and quite firmly stroking it with one hand under the table. Her free hand lifted her drink; she pulled an ice cube between her teeth, and returned her very cold mouth to the back of my neck. I shivered, clenching my hands into fists as she ran the cold ice up to my hairline, and then down my neck to my shoulder. The ice cube melted quickly, leaving streams of water sliding over the front and back of my shoulder. Her hand never changed rhythm, pumping just as hard as I liked it.
When the ice cube was gone her free hand joined the other, and cupped my balls firmly. I grunted with pleasure, trying not to make any sounds louder than the low thudding of the music still playing on speakers overhead.
“I want you to come for me, boy, right in front of all these people. They are not looking though, so stay quiet. Come for me, but don’t get us kicked out.” Her mouth was back next to my ear, so close I could feel her breath. It raised the hairs on my neck.
Luckily I was very close to orgasm already, and knowing that was what she wanted was all it took. I spread my feet just slightly under the table, and took several gasping breaths as I came hard into her hands and onto the seat between my legs.
“Good boy… yes… I’ve wanted that from you all day, boy. Now zip up so we can eat.” She handed me a paper napkin from the table, and I carefully mopped up the seat between my legs while my breath and heart rate slowed. She got up from the table and walked towards the sign reading “Restrooms.” She spoke to our waitress on the way, and before she had returned our burgers were in front of us, ready to eat.