#three dates

Good morning sugar…hope you slept well

A good morning text? You can’t help but smile as you turn over in bed. When’s the last time you received one of those? You didn’t expect someone like him to send good morning texts anyway so this is a pleasant surprise.

Morning—

Your thumbs stopped moving. Daddy? Already? Really? He hasn’t even touched you yet get a grip.

I slept peacefully thank you…how about you

Tossed and turned. Needed your warmth

Turning onto your back, you roll your eyes and smack your lips, trying to fight back an aroused grin. Yeah that’s so hot.

Can’t stop thinking about you…as soon as I draft up this contract sugar, I’m coming to get you…

That really got to you, a sizzling heat consuming your cheeks that sat with you the rest of the day…until he came calling again.

“Get dressed.” He ordered into the phone, already in the car and on the way to your place. “I would prefer you in a dress, something short, black. Can you do that?”

Hell yeah you can do that, pulling out your sexiest pump to match. You’ll do whatever he wanted and you can’t wait to show obedient you can be. Smiling back at your reflection you feel one hundred and beyond down for whatever Chris has in store. In the backseat of his town car, he keeps you possessively close, his rings ice cold on your enflamed skin. Couldn’t stop grinning down on you but keeping a cool head when you got in the car.

“Did good sugar,” Chris pinched your flushed cheek, “real fuckin good.”

That’s all he had to say. If it had been any other man, such a basic ass compliment would have pissed you off but because it was him, those words meant so much more. A pat on the head. A nudge on the chin. A good girl.

Every person in the room stopped to watch you and Chris be ushered through the upscale restaurant to fancy private glass room connected to the busy kitchen. Front row view to the hustle of a two star Michelin chef and his crew, and it’s quite the sight to see. Chris is friends with the head chef and called in for a favor tonight.

“Thought I’d show you what I can do…how I can treat you if you’re my girl.”

You cradle a large wine glass amongst your fingers, smirk at the blood red hue in the light. Can’t lie, you’re impressed, grinding your hips down into your seat. The words my girl echo in your empty head and it sounds so good you grin harder.

“Speaking of…,” his tatted knuckles slip into his jacket and draws out an envelope, “I hope these terms are to your liking. And I’m willing to negotiate…well, most things.” Chris smirks pushing the contract across the pressed white table cloth. Shouldn’t be too surprised that he’s ready to get down to business. The sooner you sign, the sooner he can play with you. Tired of waiting, he watches you read as the waiter brings out the first course.

Allowance: $50,000/week, and that’s not including your bills and rent. Required to live in with him on weekends and when under his roof, he dictates what you wear in his house…fuck when he wants to fuck. No matter where you guys were, if Chris wanted you, you better spread your legs. No one else gets to touch you; you belonged to only him until you got back on your feet. And at the end of it all, if you wanted,

“You’d want to be with me?” You frown, a little thrown off by the words at the end of the contract. That’s a little bold. If all was to go well, you could choose him. He wants you to choose him.

“Yeah sugar.” Chris partially smirks before taking a drink. “Why does that surprise you?”

For so many obvious reasons that he chose to ignore, and it made you question why do you care so hard. So you just shrug, losing the words you had geared up to argue such a ridiculous request. Funny, that’s the most ridiculous request to you when he’s got ‘must crawl around like a kitten when feral for daddy’ in black type. You had to laugh at yourself.

“Look, I know I’m intimidating,” he states dropping his elbows down on the table and sits his glass back down beside his plate, “but I also know that you’re not shy, that there’s a restless woman deep down inside just dying to claw her way out.” Chris runs his thumb over your knuckles, tempted to kiss them as he leans in just a little closer, “Let me spoil her. I can change you, sugar…in the best way…”

Licking your black cherry stained lips, you shake your head, because you were just thinking how it was time for a change. So could Chris be the Universe? But hell, why not trudge down this rabbit hole…not much to lose these days. Besides, he might be on to something…

Skimming back over the contract once more, you pinch your fingers together and chime, “Pen?”

There goes your life on the dotted line. There goes his devilish grin spreading long across his stone cold face. No going back.

“We’re gonna have some fun sugar.” His fingertips graze yours as he takes the envelope back and slips it back from where it came. “Say goodbye to your old life.”

Adios muchacha. It was nice knowing you. Chris was about to take you for a wild ride and you could feel the excitement in your bones. How you made it through four exquisitely rich courses, you have no clue. His intense gaze was driving you wild, quite positive that you’re sticky between your clutched thighs. The food didn’t help you feel any less…good; everything put in front of you tasted so amazing all you could do was close your eyes and hum with every first bite. Chris was enjoying watching you enjoy yourself, can’t wait to give you more because he loved to see you happy. Between the second and third course, his chef friend came in to check on you guys and gave Chris a giant bear hug like old friends who haven’t seen each other in many years. Chris laughed with his whole body as they joked and caught up, which was so refreshing for you to see a break in his impassive character. Definitely made him even more handsome and you could only hope you could get him to look that relaxed and jovial. So far, so good though the conversation between you two was just as good as the night y’all met, still getting to know each other over the silent need settling in the space between you guys. It’s getting hard to ignore as the last of the plates get cleared and the waiter brings Chris a fresh drink.

“If you’ll excuse me.”

You just wanted to do a lipstick check before you guys head out for whatever else is on his agenda. Kitchen’s closing and others are leaving as you head to the bathroom and by the time you’re done, the entire place is cleared out—staff included—leaving you bewildered heading back to the table. Chris is still sitting there chillin, sipping on his drink, jacket off and draped over the back of the chair.

“Ready to go?”

“Not quite. Wanna finish my drink.” So you go back for your seat but Chris tuts, making you stop and turn to look at him. “Don’t sit there. Sit here.”

Standing now, drink still in one hand, his rings tap the crisp white tabletop in front of him. You almost fixed your mouth to ask why but then you remember, paper’s signed so technically, this situationship is a-go. So better act accordingly. In your heels though?

“Um—“

“Now, sugar. I’m only patient for so long…” Chris barely flinches, just stares, but everything in his tone told you you better get your ass up on that table. For whatever reason you’re nervous to put all your weight on it, but the tension in your shoulders from Chris hovering over you pressures you to hurry.

“Knees up…and spread them,” he instructs as you sit on your bottom, the hem of your dress falling down your prickled thighs, “Wider—yeah…that’s perfect.”

“But Chris—“ Your eyes nervously dart around the empty restaurant you’re completely exposed to, on the verge of panic, but he shushes you.

“No one’s here sugar. Just you…” the tip of his tongue licks his smiling lips, “me…” and he slips a tatted hand into his pants pocket, fishing around for something, “and this pretty ass pussy that’s already so damn wet damn…” Really biting down on his bottom lip Chris smiles down at your glistening folds, fiddling around with something. “Didn’t wear any panties. Huh…” He reaches for his chair between his legs and jerks it forward to take a front row seat. His glass loudly knocks against the table as he slams it down. Going to need both hands for this. “Already know how to behave sugar. I really like that about you…”

His cool fingertips graze down your quivering folds. All you can do is watch, breathless and hypnotized, almost eager to see what he’ll do next. Fingers holding onto the edge of the table for dear life. A tiny whimper breaks from your slightly parted lips; his cold wet touch against your burning wet folds felt so amazing. Chris just sniffs a laugh and withdraws his simple touch, and loudly sucks on his fingertips as he sits back in his seat. Just devouring you with hungry eyes, like you’re the Christmas ham.

“That’s what I mean…she’s in you,” he scratches his scruffy chin with his knuckles, and sits up, rests elbows on his knees, “just look at you…”

He’s still playing around with something in that hand that’s out of view, while the other pinches his butt chin, smoky blue eyes darting between your anxious face and your slippery folds with a crooked grin.

“So…let’s see how good you can be for your daddy…”

A surprised gasp stiffens your body and before you can react, Chris has filled your pussy with some sort of device. And before you could ask what did he put inside you, he tapped the screen of his phone to activate said device. Its aggressive vibrating tosses your head back with a needy groan.

“How’s that sugar? That good enough for you?”

You go to answer but the vibrations accelerate, tossing your head up with a yelp. Chris at the controls once again, sitting back with his legs crossed, just watching with a tiny grin. And waiting for you to answer so he slides his thumb down the screen, giving you some reliefs to pant,

“Yes—yes daddy.”

Chris modestly drops his chin with a shy smile and reaches down into the front pocket of his shirt, retrieving a cigarette and lighter. “God sugar. Be more perfect.”

Convulsing, gulping back your whimpers, you can feel yourself dripping down onto the linen, your folds and walls fluttering like crazy. His lighter clicks to life as you spasm and moan before him.

“Listen here,” those rings sound at you completely out of it, eyes rolling back into your bobbing head, “you have until I finish my drink,” exhaling a cloud of smoke he snatches it off the table, by your trembling leg, “and my smoke to cum. Or you don’t cum until I see you again.”

Your arms almost buckle at his promise but you dare not falter for the punishment could be far worse if you do. Lucky for you, he still had plenty whisky left in his glass and this cig won’t last the way he stress smokes it down. Watching your chest heave, your heels tear the table cloth, has Chris aching to fuck you but he’s got to test you out first. Make sure his intuitions about you are correct. He haphazardly swipes his thumb up his screen, which sends the vibrator up to its highest setting, sending you into fuckin hysterics. Screaming behind clenched teeth,

“Oh fuck! Chris! Oh my god please!” Clutching the table until it hurts but the pleasure numbing your nerves dulls it all away. But he doesn’t budge, just sips his drink and smokes his cig, ashing it on the floor with a careless sigh.

“Good girls don’t beg, sugar.” The ice in his glass clink as he takes another drink. “They take whatever’s given them. No matter how rough, or how gentle.”

The vibrations finally slow down and you almost cry in relief, or in need, sighing out as your body relaxes just for a minute.

“Oh thank you daddy. Thank you so much.” A few tears fall from the corners of your eyes anyway, genuinely grateful for the moment.

Chris chuckles behind his pressed lips cradling his cig as he reaches over for your throbbing folds. “Oh now it’s thank you daddy.” He sits his ice cold glass right over them, causing you to hiss and jump but settle once your pussy adjusts to the sudden change in temperature. “Can’t be nice to you all the time sugar. Gotta learn, earn my trust. Understand?”

You can hardly catch your breath let alone speak and he knows that, accepting your tired but firm nod for the “yes daddy” he wanted to hear. Removing his glass, he shakes the ice stirring around at you and reminds you, “times a wastin.”

And just to fuck with you, he edged you a few more times, just to let you know—ultimately—you cum when he says so. So anytime he noticed you were too close but too soon, he’d drop the vibrator to its slowest speed with a coy flicker of his brows. Nonchalantly blow of fluid puff of smoke up into the air. Hitting long drags or taking slow sips, meeting your drowsy eyes each time you looked at him. Fuck he’s hot, keeping a stealthy glare on you as his thumb wildly swipes up and down the glass screen.

“Look at me.” Chris grumbles when he notices your eyes rolling back again and you do your best to focus on his carnal stare. “Look at me when you cum sugar.”

Your eyelids burn with hot tears as you wildly groan and hyperventilate, panting out his name, your orgasm building higher and higher with his trembling thumb. His ragged breaths damn near matching yours reaching your boiling point. His heart damn near hammering out of his thick chest when you finally snap with the sweetest cry. And keeping your sights in tuned with his as you bust all over the table like a sweet little angel. God he could cum his pants right fuckin now you looked so good all loopy and fucked out of your mind, spasming and sighing because the toy still vibrates inside you. And still, you seductively grin at him, licking your lips and calling for him. That’s the girl.

Walking over to you slumped on the table, Chris knocks the rest of his drink back and drops his cigarette butt into the melting ice.

I saw him again last night - we agreed I’d come over about 5pm and make dinner and we’d see how the night went. It went very, very well. We had sex twice before we finally made it into the kitchen to cook, and during a break while I waited for the veggies to finish, I asked if he’d like to try some of the tea I’d mentioned on Sunday, as I’d brought some with me. He chuckled and shrugged and said he was planning to surprise me in the morning, but now was fine too. And he pulled a new little teapot and a canister of tea out of the pantry and opened it for me to smell. It was the kind I’d mentioned was my favourite on Sunday. He’d remembered, and I nearly burst into tears.

Coming from a Dom who was fun and nice but didn’t really take that much of an interest in me - taking eight separate conversations to remember we shared the same birthday, for instance - I didn’t realise how much I missed having someone actually fucking listen to what I say and act upon it because they want to make me happy. I’m used to being the one playing that role for others, without any expectation of reciprocity, and having the tables so suddenly turned knocked me on my ass.

I hugged him and thanked him, and immediately started plotting ways to return the gesture, while also becoming incredibly aware of everything I said from that point on, because holy shit, he’s actually listening and WOW do I talk a lot of shit.