He made his way across town as he decided on which shop would be best to find what he sought. They arrived at Demonica, walked around for a quite a while as Pierre picked up anything that caught his eye and there was a lot. He found chemises, gloves, shoes, hot pants, and miniskirts. With each addition, he watched her eyes grow wider and wider. He knew she couldn’t imagine wearing half of what he had chosen and that was alright. Pierre had enough imagination for the both of them and maybe a few other people too.
When he was done with the massive pile in his cart, Pierre walked to the dressing room with Shari in tow. He handed all of the garments to a woman with pink hair and a few metal rings in her face. The girl oohed and ahhed over some of the choices, and even remarked on one of the latex and net dresses he’d chosen.
“We just got this one in a couple of days ago, and I haven’t seen anyone try it on yet.” The dress was risqué with a twist of latex covering all of the necessary bits and a swirl of net exposing everything else. The woman handed Shari a small grouping of the garments, but took the hot pants. “There’s a gold pair that I think you would like with a chain blouse better. If you want to see it.”
“Sure why not.” Pierre caught a glimpse of Shari’s gaped open mouth and chuckled, this was shaping up to be a great day.
Pierre watched the check girl walk away and he escorted Shari to the furthest dressing room. The room was large and sported a small chair along with shoe tree at its side. There were several hooks for discarded clothes and one large mirror trimmed with an ornate gold leaf frame that spanned the entirety of the farthest wall. He also noted curtain behind him dragged the floor. Good, no one will know I’m in here. That is, until I leave.
“Shari strip down and put this on.” He handed her a chemise. It was more romantic in theme than bondage, but he wanted to work his way up.
It was pure torture as he watched his wife divest her garments and put on more that he chose. But he was up for the challenge and placed the garment back on its proscribed hanger. Next, he handed her the mini skirt and a bandeau top to pair with it. He knew the outfit made her uncomfortable as her toes curled into the nap of carpet beneath her bared feet, and noted the shuffle of her movements as she took stock of her body in the mirror.
But he saved one of his favorites for last and ogled her nudity openly as she slipped into the tiny latex and net sheath. The dress had one arm only fully encased in the shiny material with a swath of the same material in a thick spiral that wrapped around her breasts then curved over her pussy and ass, though she could barely be considered covered by any means. When she exhibited more signs of discomfort he decided to help relax her.
She tugged on the dress at the hem and quirked her lips.
“This is the one.” He said aloud for no real reason at all, other than the fact that she was so uncomfortable in it. And because he loved how easily she blushed at the visage of her curves after she donned it.
“For what Pierre? Tonight?”
“Oui.” Her eyes grew wide at his quick agreement.
“B-but Pierre, I’m not comfortable with the idea of wearing this in public.”
“Too bad, Sharisse. You better get comfortable quick, fast and in a hurry.”
She looked as if she wanted to reply, but the words wouldn’t come to her. That was good, as now was not the time to give him any lip. When her mouth cocked in a mulish angle he knew she was pissed, though he found he cared less what she thought. She was going out with him tonight and not only that, but she would be wearing the very dress she tried on now, whether she liked it or not. Otherwise she could be tardy for tonight’s party and make her late entrance with a red ass.
Shari hung her head low and he saw she was near tears. He felt… not contrite, just a bit abashed. He knew she was new to these types of feelings and only a handful of months from being a virgin. But he was just so hungry for more of her swift acquiescence that he couldn’t keep it all together. Pierre stood up from his casual seat on the tiny chair and walked behind his wife. He wrapped his arms around her and gave her a hint of the gentility she needed at the moment. She melted into his arms and he relaxed as well.
Shari was the spice and fire that made his life worth living and the woman that made his heart beat faster. She had no idea how much she meant to him and the blame for that lay squarely on his shoulders.
Silent/Screaming Orgasms
Shari was scared. More like petrified, but she attempted to talk herself away from that particular ledge. Though with each garment she put on, her nerves grew worse. She felt tightly wound, a clock spring ticked time away somewhere inside of her ready to snap at any moment. These clothes were not made for a woman with as much extra as she had. Everything was way too revealing to wear in public and she was afraid of what others would think of her. Especially with all of her extras melted and poured in to an item so scanty her snatch hairs could be counted one by one, no magnifying glass needed.
But more fear she felt the wetter her pussy became until all she could think about was her need. All she could think about was the heat in Pierre’s eyes with each clothing change. He sat still and watched every item he chose as they were added to her frame. He watched every inch of her so carefully and she wished that she could have her cake and eat it too. She could deal with the domination, she just wasn’t sure if she could be the perfect sub before a group of strangers.
Pierre ran his hands all over her body. But she was seduced when he gave her exquisite plucks on each nipple. Then he scrolled one hand towards her thighs and rubbed the slickened seam of her pussy. Before she had the chance to process just how aroused she was he took his fingers away from her damp panties. She groaned slightly as she wanted him where he was. But he had something else in mind and she felt pressure once Pierre released his hard cock from the fly of his shorts. The thick organ smacked her spine and she shuddered. Should they, right here and now? But her question was quickly dismissed when he pushed her forward. Her arms rose to keep herself steady and her hands intuitively gripped the frame of the mirror.
“Are you willing to take it, chaton?”
“Oui, Pierre.”
“Très bon.” As he spoke to her in a wicked whisper next to her ear she shivered helplessly.
He arched his hips and she felt the pressure of his cock against her pussy. Pierre pressed forward and wrapped one hand over her hip. Her panties were slick and cooling from the AC and her nipples pouted hungrily. He pulled the fabric at her hip at the same time that his member gained entry and as if by magic he began to fill her aching wet well with thick cock.
“Is that good?” He whispered before he took a nibble of her ear.
Her only response was a hiss of sibilant air that fogged the mirror in puffs of breath and the fog receded from the surface just as quickly as it came to be there. It only took her a few minutes and a few dozen strokes, but she was too close to the orgasm that beat at her. She couldn’t stop it, not for a million dollars. She couldn’t help it, even as Pierre dug deeper and she watched the sensual grimace from the clench of his jaw and the knuckles of his hands turn white.
“I haven’t given you permission to come yet. Be patient.”
“I can’t stop it Pierre, please.” Her volume had begun to escalate, the pitch of her voice high even as she tried to mute the sounds to a whisper.
“Don’t be a bad girl, Shari.” But there was no way she could keep her body from doing what came naturally.
She saw the signs of her orgasm before she felt the impossible wave of pleasure crest. Her body changed color, and she saw the flush of red take over her skin. Her frame appeared tight, as if she clenched every muscle she owned in preparation of Hurricane Pierre. Her cries began to grow louder with each slap of his hips and Pierre clasped one hand over her mouth to silence her squeals. It wasn’t enough, the pitch of her whines still escaped from behind his hand.
“You are such a bad, bad, chaton.” He kept thrusting, harder and faster. Now the sounds that escaped the flesh
gag were eclipsed by the sound of their colliding hips and her suctioning pussy. Her eyes met his and he lifted the hem of the tiny net skirt to her navel. His feet kicked hers further apart until she stood wide open and exposed in every way. She was shocked when Pierre used his hand to smack her pussy just above where they came together as one. The noise was wet, aggressive, and somehow delightfully rude. Shari loved the feel of his hand clap a cadence over her clit. To hear the wallop was as good as it felt, and she was shocked at how the audible nature of their public tryst became even more seductive than the sex. Well, she amended, a close second to the sex.
“Can you be quiet now? I really need both of my hands.” Shari opened her eyes, actually she didn’t know when her lids drifted closed, but that was inconsequential. She had to have more and she would have agreed to the loss of a limb as long as he didn’t stop what he did to her. She couldn’t trust her voice and she nodded twice before he released her. He pressed two fingers into her mouth. “Suck me. Get my hand nice and wet.”
That was no hardship and she slurped over the thick fingers in between her lips until they were sodden. He took the digits away and let them limply trail her torso while she was rooted to the handful of inches Pierre kept plugged inside of her pussy. When he was done with his fingers he began to rim the ring of her anus and he displayed no hesitation or fear in his mastery of her. The tips of his fingers exploited her sensitive tissues, took ownership of regions that she couldn’t imagine were so nerve-laden and needy for sexual contact.
When Pierre delved deeper with his cock his fingers speared her further, and she craved more of the dual sensations. When she had to have a faster cadence she whipped her hips back and forth each movement she made implored him for more. More fingers, more cock, more of him. The location no longer mattered. What she wore tonight no longer mattered. She would give him what he asked for, so long as he held lurid lovemaking over her head.
“Pierre please, I can’t stop it.” Her voice was small, and she felt insignificant compared to the orgasm that beat at her once more.
“This time you don’t have to.” He continued to smack her snatch in a decadent cadence that called her to the peak and beyond.
But she was unable to keep her pleasure silent. Then again, Pierre was unable to mute his groan as he came either.
Shari was beet red as she dressed and knew she was going to perform a walk of shame on exit. Well, she corrected herself, she wasn’t ashamed merely contrite. Every patron within the changing area had to hear her cries of sexual satisfaction.
Cunnilingus and Crumpets
Pierre watched his woman come for him, she was too loud and he filed the thought away along with others that she had earned just punishment for. A spank bank. Pierre laughed at the asinine thought and bade Shari to dress. She looked less nervous, but she was definitely ashamed of what they had just done. That was somehow gratifying, even though he wasn’t aiming for shame. But the emotion would serve him just as well as any other at the moment. The only reason she felt shamed was he made her forget the fact that other people could hear her. Indeed for a moment he had forgotten where they were and the only thing that brought him back to the here and now was the tag that hung from the back of her dress. The paper tag and plastic fastener scraped his skin in odd intervals and the scratch forced him to remember where he was. Although, he couldn’t forget where he was either, his wife had pussy made of Kryptonite and she always made him weak.
When they left the dressing room, the pink haired girl had a satisfied smirk on her face and he was almost positive that she came with them.
“Here are those hot pants and top.” He didn’t bother having Shari try them on, and he refused to waste the woman’s time after she bothered to retrieve them. So he merely nodded and added the garments to the cart.
“I’ll just take those and the rest of the lot as well.” The girl scrunched her face like she knew what he did with some of the clothes and that he better purchase the lot.
Shari was present in body but she looked lost or high, and he wasn’t sure which. Either one was fine so long as she was ready for lunch. He was starving, coming that strong had taken something vital from him that only a truckload of calories could replace. The attendant had one last parting shot before he walked away.
“By the by, I didn’t let anyone else back here while the two of you were in the dressing room.”
“Thanks.” If anything Shari flushed brighter and then looked at the floor when the woman winked at her.
When he had paid for the clothes and loaded the bags into the car, Shari still hadn’t spoken. She was still in la-la land with her eyes glazed over in that oh so familiar way. She was a natural to the lifestyle. Shari just didn’t realize it yet. It was a bit past lunch and Pierre decided to take her to The Crumpet Room, a British style tea room during the day and pub by night as it was a brisk walk from the shop.
The place was dead when they walked inside and only two of the dozens of tables boasted any occupants. Pierre decided to test her even farther than before and allowed her to take the seat facing the window. He sat with his back to the glass and placed an order for sandwiches and chips along with a bottle of wine.
When the waiter walked away Pierre spoke to his wife. “Shari, are you with me?” She nodded and he continued. “I’m going to eat your pussy right now from beneath this table. You cannot make a sound or you will get us thrown out for indecency. If that happens you’re not going to like what I do to you. Not at first anyway.” His tone was normal and nonchalant enough to the point where he may as well have been remarking on the weather. Her eyes grew wide and Pierre chuckled, this was going to be fun. He smiled and checked to see if the other diners looked his way before he leaned over and pulled the floor length table cloth onto his lap.
He winked at her just to be as mean as possible and ducked under the cloth. The heavy rustle of fabric fell behind him and amid the darkness he saw Shari’s feet under the table. The bare toes were a perfect guide to where he was headed. He started slowly at first, just allowed his hands to skim over her toes then migrated north. When he was done with the tablecloth the heavy fabric rested on her lap bunched up along with the cotton of her maxi dress. If someone looked closely, they would be able to see a glint of his skin from the knee down from between the chair legs. Although he doubted anyone would pay that much attention.
He licked a path from the ankle to her inner thigh up one leg and down the other. Shari’s entire body seized up and she shook beneath his mouth. Pierre laved the other leg from the shaky thigh down to the ankle again and when he began to move upwards she clamped her legs together. He opted not to spank her but she would pay for the attempt to deny him access to her body. It only took a moment to wrench her thighs open again. But this time he was no longer in the mood to tease her and dove right into the main event.
Pierre captured the nubbin at the apex of pussy between his lips and squeezed the delicate bundle. Then he scraped his teeth gently over the surface before he opened his lips wide and nursed stiffly on her entire wet snatch. She was unable to stand the pressure and he heard her grunt along with a shift of her hips. But she wasn’t trying to get away, no, she shifted to give him more access. And that was why he loved his naughty wife. She was innocent in body before he got his hands on her, but she had a mind made to dwell in the gutter.
Check Please!
Shari felt as if she was about to explode. Pierre had a way of making the most simplistic exercises between a man and a woman exotic and undeniably erotic. His head was planted between her legs and treated her wet pussy as if she was lunch fit for a king. He nursed her clit, tongued her pussy lips and teased her entrance until she was ready to beg him for cock. It was as if he delved head first into her brain and dug her most decadent desires out one by one to lay them bare before her. Not only that, but he exposed her to light of day when she was unable to prevaricate about the needs he’d unearthed. She stiffly sipped her water and she felt grateful that he had made
the allowance of seating her in front of the window.
At least the other patrons were unable to see the writhing mass her spouse had turned her into. But even with that thought there were people outside who saw the faces she made and could correctly assume why. She knew they saw her based on the looks she received as the men and women milled past the exposed window. Somehow the eyes outside made her feel worse than if the roles were reversed and other diners inside the eatery saw her. Orgasms were just too personal and she didn’t want to share that much of herself with a crowd of strangers.
After the first few minutes, she no longer minded being on display as Hurricane Pierre spun her away to a place where only the two of them could go. When his fingers joined in on the action, she was unable to care what faces she made and merely hid her flushed cheeks and gaped mouth in her cloth napkin. As the tension within her mounted Pierre continued to wreak havoc on every cell she owned south of the border. She was an instant from orgasm and no way was she capable of sitting still. She knew that she practically danced in her chair, but there was no way to stop it. Not that she wanted to.
Please Me: Parisian Punishment (Late Night Delight) Page 2