I’m sitting at our rendezvous spot at the bar, waiting to meet with Elliot, and drinking my martini with extra olives. I’ve been internally gloating over my new cocktail dress, excited to wear it out. It’s velvet, cabernet red, with long sleeves and a wide v-neck. It hugs tight around my torso, down to my thighs. It is elegant and sexy; fitting for our meetings. As for Elliot, he wears the sharpest suits I’ve ever seen. When we get together, he has on a dark gray suit, with silver and blue accents. Sometimes a dark blue suit, with dark gray and black accents. We are business people after all. So, our lifestyles call for sophistication and richness. It also means no time for relationships and no time to work on romance. From the beginning, we kept it short and sweet. We didn’t talk about personal stuff or family. We talked about our jobs and when our schedules were open to rendezvous again. At the end of our meetings, we return to our own lives. It works for us, and we don’t have to worry about commitment. We have what you would call an exclusive relationship, and when we got physical, it was a submissive one.
I looked over to see Elliot walking up to the bar. He is fixated on me, staring with his eyes, up and down. He is admiring my new dress, with a smirk out of the corner of his mouth. I felt a grin on my lips as I looked back at my drink, holding it at the stem, spinning it. As he sat down, he unbuttoned his suit jacket and called to the bartender for a whiskey, neat. He looked at my drink, noticing the excessive number of olives, and smiled. “You look nice,” he said. “Thank you,” I replied, trying to hide my smile as I took a drink of my martini. You might be wondering about the meaning of these olives. See, a few dates into our relationship, Elliot took the olives out of my martini. One by one he fed them to me, caressing his fingers around my lips, opening my mouth, eyeing me intently with this look of hunger. That night he showed me what he wanted with my mouth and my body. Since then, I order extra olives when I crave him that way. That kinky, torturing side of him.
He turned to me, asking, “How many tonight, Cass?” As the bartender set down his whiskey, I replied, “Up to you," and we clanked our glasses as we both took a swig. We usually have a few drinks, catch up, and then head to one of our places. Maybe he was eager to get out of here and skip drinks tonight. I watched him as he swallowed and clenched his jaw. His muscles were riveting, from his jaw to his ears. He let out a quiet but forced exhale while setting his glass down. He leaned in beside me, “We will have to see,” he spoke sexily, and he kissed me below my ear. Sparks went down my neck and through my chest, causing my nipples to harden. I think I had goosebumps even. I wanted to grab hold of the side of his face, push his into mine, and french him until I couldn’t breathe. Or, push him down into my other lips, so he could french me there until he couldn’t breathe.
He leaned away, putting one of his hands between my legs, turning me towards him. The inside of my thigh tingled, and the lower half of me warmed up inside. One of his hands came around my back, pulling me into him. His face leaned in, kissing me with hot, soft, sexy kisses. His other hand caressed my thigh, moving its way up, scooping the bottom of my dress. He was pushing it up from every angle, he wanted it out of the way. I knew it would be easier to push my dress up if I wasn’t sitting down. So, I brought my hands up around his neck. Elliot leaned back, lifting me out of my seat, just enough to get his fingers under me. I continued kissing him, running my fingers through the back of his hair. His hands grabbed the bottom of my dress, pushing the rest of it up. I felt his hands brush under my butt cheeks and up over my crotch. He was pushing it up too high and I gasped. I looked around, to see if anyone was watching us. Luckily, the few people here were on the other side of the bar.
Elliot finally let go of my dress and wrapped his arms around my torso, setting me down. I looked at him, staring intently, trying to tell him telepathically that my bottom half was naked. He didn’t know it, but I didn't wear any lingerie down there tonight. It was a surprise for when we got to one of our places. He was smiling, arrogantly proud of himself. To make matters worse, he reached his arms around my legs, lifted them up, and draped them over his. I took a bigger gasp of breath as I tightened my arms around him, bringing myself next to his chest. I’d be flashing the bar if I let go of him. My clit was showing, my lips wide open, visible for anyone to see. He reached for our drinks and brought mine to my lips. “Drink,” he said. I took a deep breath and released my arms to grab my martini. I noticed there wasn’t much left. So, I drank the rest in two swigs. A puckering look came over my face from the martini. I looked up at him and let out a short laugh. He too didn’t have much left in his glass. He took it back, setting the glass on the bar. As he looked back at me. He looked hungry. It became serious and intimidating. My throat felt closed as I tried to swallow. I was nervous, excited, anticipating what was yet to come.
Elliot reached over to my martini, grabbing the stick of olives. He slid one off and put the rest in the glass. Bringing it up to my lips, “Open,” he said and sparks went through my body. He is stern with his words, dominant with what he wants. My jaw relaxed open as I felt my lips disconnect from each other. Slowly opening my mouth, he pushed the olive in. I wanted his thumb, so I bit down on it. I held it there, biting it, sucking on it, cleaning the olive juice off. His other hand had settled on my thigh, squeezing it as he waited for me to be done. Slowly sliding my teeth off, I sucked the last bit of juice and released my lips from this thumb. I looked up at him and his face went from serious to a smirk. My ovaries were shivering in fear as he did not like games being played during his games.
He looked over, grabbing the stick of olives, holding them between us. I looked at them and then back up to him. I had no idea what he was going to do, but I was nervous and excited. He pulled me close to him, bringing the olives to my chest. I gasped from the sensation as he rolled the olives up. Up my neck, up to my chin, pushing my head up to the ceiling. My body was quivering, my clit and my ovaries were tingling. The olives were cold and the juice was dripping down between my breasts. One of my hands reached out, holding one of his shoulders. I felt him take the olives away as his lips came down and pressed against my chest. My breathing was deeper and faster. He was holding my body into his, caressing me with his lips, kissing along, sucking in spots. He was working his way up, cleaning the olive juice off. His mouth kissed along, up to my neck, up to one of my ears. One of his hands came up, bracing the other side of my neck. I wanted to part take, reach for his dick, choke him back, but he was in complete control. His hand released my neck and came up to my jaw, pulling it down. He had leaned away, putting his face in front of mine. His fingers ran along my lips and pulled my mouth open. He leaned in, shoving his tongue deep into my mouth. I took the biggest breath wishing we were at his place. I returned my tongue to his mouth, crossing my arms around his neck. Pulling myself into him. I felt one of his hands between my legs, caressing along, working their way to my flooded home. His fingers found my lips, caressing around them, looking to pull my lingerie out of the way. As his fingers went in deeper, they suddenly became still at the entrance to my vagina. He separated our kiss, leaving the smallest distance between our faces. He took in a deep breath and let out a disgruntled exhale. I opened my eyes only to see he was staring back at me. His eyes looked serious, his jaw was clenching again. He looked like he has been bamboozled, betrayed, set up even. I guess he sort of has.
He took in my lower lip, biting it and pulling it away. My breathing became questionable as his body shifted up, towering me in order to discipline me. He brought his head to the side of my neck, kissing me gently below my ear, sucking in places. I felt his fingers moving below and they entered, slowly, moving in to the end of my tunnel. He stopped when he couldn’t get any further and held his fingers there. My breathing was quick and heavy. He continued kissing, nibbling right along my neck. I felt his fingers curl up and before I could stop myself I let out a quiet moan. My ovaries and my clit felt warm and tingly. I was pulling my body into his, trying to get him to move his fingers. He kept them still, it was on purpose, he was getting back at me for my surprise. After what seemed like forever, he finally started pulling his fingers out. His lips left my neck and his head leaned back, watching me. I looked at him, frustrated, but I was enjoying this for some reason. His fingers were going back in, but as slow as the first time. My eyes shut and I arched away, not able to bare much more of these sensations. My legs were tense and flinching as he moved his fingers along. As he got to the end, he gave me a jolt this time, making my body quiver. I took a quick breath arching my back away again. Elliot was quicker this time. His fingers went out, as they came back, jolting like before. The sensations were building up too much in my ovaries. I was going to cum if he didn’t stop.
I leaned forward, resting my face next to his chin. My hand came up, gripping the back of his neck. “Elliot,” I said in his ear, implying that he should stop. His fingers stopped, frozen deep in my vagina. He was still. His head turned to mine, resting his nose against my ear. His lips reached out to kiss my neck. His tongue to follow, pressing it under my ear, running it up to my ear lobe and biting it, tugging it slightly. I took a deep breath and exhaled, letting out a moan of defeat. His lips were next to my ear and his thumb rested on my clit. I could hear him take a breath in as he opened his lips, pulling his fingers slowly out of my vagina, “Cum,” he said. His fingers shot in deep, causing my body to pulse at his punches. He pulled them out and then pushed them back in deeper. His thumb ran up and down my clit. In and out with his fingers, my head shot up to the ceiling, trying to take deep breaths. Gripping his neck, my body was shooting out in orgasm, my hips moving with his fingers, back and forth. He held me in close with his arm around my back, his head braced against mine. My lower body was twitching, orgasming. Seconds are going by until the twitches start slowing down. His thumb left my clit and his fingers are slowing. My head comes back down to rest on his collar bone and neck. I feel him pull his fingers away, but still, he is holding me into him, letting me calm down.
I was frozen there, afraid to leave his neck of a hiding place, after what just happened. We sat there for a moment, my arm had let go of his neck and rested on his thigh. I leaned away from him, staring at his chest. He had grabbed a towel from the bar, cleaning his fingers off. I'm sure he could see me, but I was grinning. I looked over to see there was a new round of drinks. My martini was full with a couple of olives. My eyes widened and I looked up to him. He was smirking, bringing up his whiskey to take a sip. I didn’t know what to think. I didn’t know what to say. I reached over to grab my martini and take a sip. Finally, he was the first to speak up after we shared awkward looks with the people across the bar. He leaned over, “See what happens when you order extra olives?" We were both grinning, and I took a sip of my martini. I looked down at the olives in my drink. Yes, I know what happens when I order extra olives.