Adrianna's Undies

by Lacey Alexander

  Knowing that the angle allowed only the men at the opposite table to see, she didn’t bother resituating when the waiter returned with the check. “How was the fondue?” he asked.

  “I would say it surpassed all our expectations,” Tristan smoothly replied, and Adrianna worked to stifle a smile.

  A moment later, Tristan placed two hundred dollar bills in the check binder, then said to her, “Let your dress ride high enough to give them another good look at that pretty pussy when you get up.”

  “All right,” she said, the very flesh in question thrilling even more at the demand. Again, she didn’t think or consider her answer, and even though she normally wouldn’t have done it, she suddenly didn’t mind if that’s what Tristan wanted.

  So as they rose to go, her dress barely covering her ass due to the way she’d been sitting, she didn’t rush to pull it down. In fact, as she stood next to the table waiting for Tristan to scoot free from the booth, she purposely faced her lusty-eyed admirers and subtly let her fingers curl around the dress’s hem just enough to lift it another inch or so. When a barely audible groan echoed from one of the men, she knew she’d achieved Tristan’s goal.

  A second later, she swiftly readjusted the dress, and as they left the restaurant and walked back through the busy casino, the slot machines all clicking and clanging around them, Adrianna felt the flesh-on-flesh rub of her pussy with each move she made. Her breasts bounced slightly and every step she took made the tops of her boots rub against the sensitive skin of her thighs. Amazing, she thought. Tristan hadn’t so much as touched her, but he’d still managed to arouse the hell out of her.

  As they walked through the gaming area between a row of blackjack tables and roulette wheels, gamblers stopped to look at her and she enjoyed stealing away their attention, distracting them from their bets. Her cunt oozed with readiness and she wondered if her wetness could possibly roll down her legs.

  She was dying for sex, dying to be with Tristan, ready for anything. Please. Please let him fuck me now. Please let him touch me, lick me, make me come. And then please let him ram that big, beautiful cock into me where I feel so empty right now.

  But as they exited the Luxor, a cool night breeze swept over her and somehow cleared her head a bit. As they got into the car—the sexy blond driver again subtly looking her over as he held the door—Adrianna got hold of herself. Stop it. This is not you. This is wine. And champagne. And Ultimate Pleasure Panties. And the rush from flashing strange men.

  At the demand of your lover, she couldn’t help adding in her mind. A bitter truth.

  Face it. It turned you on. To do it not because you wanted to, but because he bade it.

  God, that was unsettling. She let out a sigh, her breasts sinking heavily against the half-cups of her corset.

  She had really, truly begun to take pleasure in following his commands, doing his will.

  And it had to stop now.

  * * * * *

  Tristan was hard as a rock. Although he’d participated in a three-way or two, and he’d played a few light bondage games with willing partners over the years, he’d never before asked a woman to share herself with other men in the way he’d just demanded of Adrianna. It had mostly been an impulse he’d followed—but why had he done it? To enforce his control on her, certainly—yet he supposed it also excited him, or his ego perhaps, to show those other guys what he had, what he got to take home with him tonight. Not just her delectably bare pussy, but a woman who was that wild, that hedonistic. Maybe it was an odd way to feel since she hadn’t technically chosen to be that hedonistic—but he’d known how aroused she was, how it had thrilled her to show them. It had practically seeped from her pores out into the air around them.

  Now, as the limo departed the Luxor, it was all he could do to keep his hands off her. That body just begged to be touched. And there was more to it than simple lust. It was about the past too. Where did we go wrong, Adrianna? How did we get here—together yet still so far apart?

  But he couldn’t start going soft on her—his job tonight was to tame her, or at least try. He’d actually wondered if someone as strong-willed as Adrianna could be tamed, but after her response to his commands in the restaurant, he was beginning to feel confident.

  “Did you like showing those men your cunt?” he asked.

  He expected her to reply with the same lush, raspy Yes she’d given him in response to other recent questions. So it surprised the hell out of him to find her looking bored and aloof next to him. “It was fine.”

  His chest tightened and, without planning it, his next questions came out a bit sharper. “Did you like pleasing me? Did you like doing what I wanted you to do?” Don’t piss me off here, Adrianna.

  But she continued to appear just as taciturn. “Like I said, it was fine.”

  All of Tristan’s contentment with her flew out the window and he heard himself making tsking noises. “And here you were being such a good little girl in the restaurant.”

  She looked up, met his gaze too boldly. “Are you implying I’m being bad now?”

  “Your attitude was much more…enthusiastically obedient before. As it should be.”

  She crossed her arms, looking belligerent. “I told you, I’m doing the best I can.”

  “Except now I know that your best is better than I’m getting at the moment. So you need to do better, Adrianna—understand?”

  “Maybe my best fluctuates from minute to minute.”

  “Maybe my patience fluctuates just as much. Are you forgetting what’s at stake here?”

  Her expression changed then—clearly she had forgotten and now had just remembered.

  She lowered her eyes. And his cock got a little harder.

  Next to him, she bit her lip uncertainly, then without meeting his gaze said softly, “Can I ask you a question?”

  “All right.”

  “Where are we going now?”

  She must have noticed that they’d turned in a direction that led away from the Bellagio, not toward it. “You’ll see,” he told her.

  And he could almost feel her distress, how she wanted to protest, to demand to know the answer to a simple question—but she held it inside. Smartly. Because Tristan had long since forgotten those soft, brief feelings about their past together—all he could think about now was disciplining her.

  And after this disappointing change in attitude between the restaurant and the car—well, he had been planning some playful, rewarding treats for little miss Adrianna at their next stop, but now, now she would have to be punished.

  * * * * *

  Inside, she seethed with anger. Mostly at herself, for falling prey to her lust, for taking real pleasure in anything he asked of her. But, then, the entire situation renewed her anger at him too. How dare he use her sexually to save her company? It was archaic. Had he turned into a caveman?

  Of course, she’d agreed to it. It had seemed so much simpler than wading through legal mire and possibly coming out on the losing end anyway. She supposed that, deep down, she’d thought this would be easier. She’d never dreamed she could honestly be turned-on by submitting to a man’s will.

  So she stayed quiet as the limo traveled the outskirts of Las Vegas—but where the hell was he taking her? What did he have planned?

  A memory popped to mind. Fucking Tristan in the desert. They’d been driving along, returning from a research trip to a ghost town for some paper Tristan needed to write for a class—and it had been hot, and they had been wanting each other, talking about getting back to the dorms so they could do it, and without warning, Tristan had turned off on some side road and led them deeper into seclusion. And she’d experienced the feral joy of letting her knees dig into the hard ground, having the sun beat down on their bare skin as Tristan plunged his glorious cock into her from behind. They’d fucked like animals that day. Afterward, they’d lain naked on the desert floor in broad daylight, talking, kissing, just enjoying the hedonistic freedom of it.

  She sigh
ed at the too-fond memory. Could he be taking her out into the desert again?

  Just then, though, the limo turned into a crowded parking lot and through the tinted windows she caught the words Gentleman’s Club in pink neon.

  She almost laughed. At the very idea that Tristan had been doing something that could border on sentimental here. At the notion of calling guys who frequent strip clubs “gentlemen”.

  When the driver opened the door, Adrianna stepped out boldly, undaunted. She hated to break it to Tristan, but going to a strip club didn’t scare her. Given that she enjoyed women, this wasn’t her first trip to such an establishment.

  Tristan said nothing upon exiting the limo behind her—he simply placed his hand on her ass and ushered her to the door. Despite herself, the touch burned through her, making her skin sizzle. And those damn pleasure panties weren’t helping anything, either. Every time she got up after sitting for a while, she was surprised—jarred—by the intense stimulation they delivered. Not enough to make her come, it seemed, but enough to frustrate the hell out of her.

  She felt the burly doorman’s eyes on her as Tristan paid, and as they stepped into a large room featuring multiple stages and swirling red and pink lights, other men looked at her too. Even with women dancing in various stages of undress all around them, she managed to draw the customers’ gazes. She found herself hoping Tristan saw, and hoping he regretted losing her all those years ago. A childish, useless thought perhaps, but at the moment she didn’t care. They were playing games tonight—she could play her own games too, if it made her feel better about all this.

  With his hand still on her ass, and her clit and anus still being rubbed with every step she took, Tristan directed her to a small, empty table before the main stage. They sat in two plush chairs, and Adrianna focused on the stage where a young woman with long red hair twirled around the pole wearing only sparkly devil horns and a sparkly red g-string complete with a pointed devil’s tail. Her large breasts looked fake but attractive and her red fuck-me stripper shoes added to the whole effect. Given Adrianna’s already intense state of arousal, the sight only added to her frustration, her nipples growing so hard she could feel them rubbing against the fabric of her dress. Like back at the restaurant, every move she made felt sensual somehow—her very limbs felt heavy and burned to touch, to feel, to experience something.

  Damn it. She hated that the arousal she’d managed to squelch a little with her anger in the car was already back, full force. Normally, she could sit and watch a girl strip without feeling as if she were going to leap out of her skin, but nothing about tonight was normal.

  “Do you like redheads, Adrianna?” Tristan leaned over to ask with a lascivious expression.

  “I suppose I like whatever you want me to like,” she replied, unable to keep the dryness from her voice.

  He gave her a stern look of warning. “Right answer, wrong attitude,” he told her. “Time to start being a good girl or you’ll regret it.”

  She detested his attitude at the moment too, but his words reminded her—again—that her company was on the line here. It was difficult to stay focused on that when she was angry, or worse, when she was trying to walk that fine line of pretending to submit while she kept her internal will strong. She needed some…guidance here. So she asked him an honest question. “What is it you want me to do exactly? I’ve never really done the submission thing before.”

  “I think you know,” he told her. “I want a pleasant attitude, I want you eager to please me, I want you docile and obedient.”

  Each word was like torture to her brain, and turned out he was right—she pretty much had known the answer. But maybe she’d hoped he’d reply in some other, easier-for-her-to-achieve way.

  “Now,” he said, a bit more forcefully, “do you like redheads?”

  Go along with this part, she commanded herself. You do like women, after all. And that’s all he wants to hear. So let him. Let him get turned-on by your attraction to girls. It doesn’t compromise your position here—it’s just being honest.

  “I’m not really picky about hair color,” she told him, doing her best to sound cordial, pleasant. “As long as they’re pretty and have nice bodies, I can enjoy them.”

  “Do you like big tits on a girl?”

  “Yes. Doesn’t everybody?” An honest answer. To which he responded with his usual devilish smile.

  “Do you like to kiss other girls’ breasts?”

  “Of course.” But saying it, right now, was making her still more excited, which her body could ill afford.

  “Do you like to rub your big, beautiful tits against another girl’s?”

  Her pussy spasmed, and her answer came out more ragged, raspy, than intended. “Yes. Very much.”

  “What else do you like to do with girls, Adrianna? Paint a picture in my mind.”

  Adrianna drew in her breath and discovered it was challenging to breathe deeply. Because of the tight corset she wore—and because of the lust coursing through her so needfully right now. She was surely making a wet spot on the back of her dress.

  “Everything,” she told him truthfully. “I like to writhe against them on a dance floor and feel our curves moving together. I like to peel their clothes off, bit by bit. I like to massage their breasts in my hands and twirl their nipples between my fingers. I like to lick their pussies, and sometimes I like to just rub our cunts together until we both come. Sometimes we use toys on each other, and I have a wide array of them. I’m particularly fond of fucking other girls with my strap-on.”

  She’d watched the redheaded devil the entire time she’d spoken, the girl still using the stripper pole with great skill to allow glimpses of her body from every sumptuous angle, but now she brought her gaze back down to Tristan. His eyes glazed with a hard lust that only heightened her sensual suffering.

  “I would love to watch you fuck another girl sometime, Adrianna.”

  Hmm, Tristan watching her with another woman? Now that she could get into. “We have all night,” she reminded him.

  “Sometime,” he reiterated. “Not tonight.”

  “The offer expires at sunrise.”

  Given the nonsubmissive nature of the comment, she was surprised when he grinned. “My loss then,” he assured her. “But not tonight. Tonight is for other things.”

  Then let’s get to them already, she wanted to say—but managed to hold it in.

  Just then a pretty twenty-something blonde with fairly large, perky breasts strolled past in nothing but a pair of silver heels, her cunt shaved, her body flawless. Neither Tristan nor Adrianna acknowledged her, but when a young waitress in sparkly short shorts and a skimpy bikini top arrived to ask if they wanted drinks, Tristan instead asked her to fetch the blonde for a lap dance.

  Adrianna’s breath hitched. He didn’t want to see her fuck another girl tonight, but maybe he wanted to see her get a lap dance. And God knew she needed one by now. If Tristan wasn’t going to touch her, she’d be more than happy for someone else to ease her suffering. And given the pleasure panties, it wouldn’t take much to reach orgasm—a nice, sexy lap dance from a pretty, naked girl should do the trick.

  A moment later, the blonde returned with a smile. As she bent toward Tristan, Adrianna heard her say her name was Kelsey. They talked for a moment before Tristan passed the girl some money, which she tucked into her shoe, and then she lifted one knee over Tristan and eased into his lap.

  Shit! The lap dance was for him?

  How dare he get her all worked up and just leave her hanging?

  But this was even worse than that—because now she was watching this gorgeous girl writhe around on her man, which at once aroused her even more and at the same time made her…a little jealous.

  Is that what she felt? Jealousy? No, couldn’t be. She’d dumped him, after all—a lifetime ago. And since coming back into her life, he’d done little to endear himself to her.

  Maybe she was just jealous of him? For getting to feel all those soft, lush
curves as the blonde gyrated against his crotch. She bit her lip, watching, wanting. Her cunt pulsed against the leather surrounding it as if it were trying to break free. God, the girl was beautiful, and Adrianna longed to be touched by her. At the moment, she wanted to join them somehow, make a lovely, naughty threesome of it—she knew only the animal urge to rub and kiss and touch and fuck, and it was all she could do to sit quietly in her chair, her body aching for attention.

  Beneath the girl, Tristan appeared lost in lust, but did occasionally spare a glance for Adrianna. She wished like hell she could look disinterested but knew that was impossible. And she lacked the resolve to make herself look away. She was sorely tempted to finally just pleasure herself—she was not too shy to reach under her dress and stroke herself to climax here. In fact, right now, it would have excited her even more, the same way flashing the guys in the restaurant had.

  Only—she knew better. If she did something like that without Tristan’s permission, he would be angry. And he could easily declare the game over, her the loser.

  So she clenched her legs tight, trying hopelessly not to feel anything. She curled her fists taut around the chair’s armrests, digging her fingertips into the fabric. She willed her breasts to stop heaving, her pussy to stop throbbing.

  And when the song ended, when she heard lovely, hot Kelsey say to Tristan, “Would you like me to give your girlfriend a special dance? I promise you’ll like it,” it felt like a magical gift to Adrianna, like someone offering to heal her somehow.

  And when Tristan glanced over at her, she couldn’t hide her need, and even felt herself silently mouthing the words, Please. I’ll be good. Her stomach nearly imploded when she realized what she’d said, promised, willingly, but she couldn’t toil over it—she simply waited for his answer, desperate for pleasure.

  Tristan looked back at Kelsey, who was rising smoothly off his lap. “Thank you, honey, but no.”