This is a print version of story The Exhibitionist and the Epicurean by SexyWriter from

The Exhibitionist and the Epicurean

The Exhibitionist and the Epicurean

In the BCM club the dancer gyrated listlessly to the rhythm of the baseline. Ignored and despised by some and simply leered at by others she moved he body for the few Euros it earned. She felt ignored and was unhappy at being ignored. She craved attention, she always had done, she had to be the centre of attention but here while she should be, she was not. Her body was sexy; she knew it and wanted to show it off.

Then one evening while the pissed teenagers wandered by ignoring her sexuality a man arrived. The first time he just walked by and watched her for a few minutes. But unlike thousands of others he didn´t just glance furtively at her; he watched her. He had stopped and unashamedly studied her, and he had smiled. Not from this man the leer and smirk, the dirty (but slightly exciting) greed of some people (men and women) who would use her if they could. No this smile was a rare treat for her. The man was happy and pleased to watch her perform. Even for just a few shared glances his appreciation of her was obvious. She became more involved with the dance, feeling the rhythm. She moved for him and smiled back but only a little smile of self satisfaction. She enjoyed her dancing just a little bit more after he had moved on.

The next day he returned. He was sitting a few rows back from her podium. He may have been there a while before she noticed him as his cigar was half gone and his glass was empty. She tried her best but she could not avoid his appreciative all consuming stare, it was impossible. In the moment of eye contact he smiled that knowing smile that made her feel shared and admired. This time she smiled back acknowledging the contact that had been made. In the crowded club she danced alone now; just for him. Surrounded by the d***ken crowd she danced for him.

He watched her, studying her fine body that had been honed by hours of dancing every day. He watched the way her hips moved and small tight breasts giggled, taking in the visual pleasures of her flesh. Holding the rails around her podium she fucked an invisible lover and enjoyed being watched doing it.

But the next time she looked for him he had gone. Left alone in the crowd she suddenly felt vulnerable and observed in a way she had not before. Later the boss of the club came over and asked her if something was the matter. She lied and said no and tried to rekindle the ambivalent performance and managed well enough to keep her job for one more night.

The following night he did not come and she did just enough for the money she earned.

The next night he did return and she was lucky enough to see him enter the dance area with a glass of brandy in hand. This time he moved close to her podium just a couple of rows away. He settled into a seat and apparently ignoring her he took out a cigar and went through what looked like a little ritual of preparation, clipping the end and lighting it carefully with none of the flames, puffing and smoke some men use to show off. This was preparation for his pleasure for its own sake, not a show for others. She felt a strange thrill of vicarious involvement in the stranger’s epicurean pursuits.

Once he had the cigar alight to his satisfaction he readjusted his position and look directly into her eyes. As hardened as she was to her job she felt an extra spark of excitement she had not felt since the first time she had danced in the club at the beginning of the season. She started to flirt with him; but only a little. He acknowledged her with complete attention. Like the cigar or brandy this man knew what he liked and of all the dancers he could have watched he had chosen to watch her. This made her happier than she would have thought. She smiled inside and out.

Eye contact grew in intensity and duration until the rest of the audience disappeared into shady smoky obscurity. A sequence of shared moments strung together into a continuum of display and provocative movement and gestures. She made herself whole for him; this stranger with whom she had never even spoken.

His delight was subtle but obviously only shared with her. His eyes never left her for a moment. His face expressed pleased satisfaction at a mutually shared event. He knew she danced for him. She wanted to dance for him; to be observed and consumed by him.

He took one last draw from his cigar and dropped it in the ash tray. He had finished his brandy a while ago but still lifted the empty glass in the fashion of a toast and with a final glint in his eye and smile he left; his hedonistic pleasures sated for a while. In that brief acknowledgement he had sealed her happiness.

The next night she was watching the clock behind the bar and realised that he usually came in around 10:00 each night and sure enough at 9:54 he appeared and sat at the table he had used the previous night. It was only then that she noticed the club manager had shown him to the table. A waiter brought a tray with a cigar and a glass of brandy on it. The waiter removed the reserved sign that had been on the table. The rest of the night mirrored the previous one except the music seemed particularly suited to a more vigorous and sexy display; she took full advantage of the set and engaged completely with the voyeuristic desires of her new found friend. Friend? She considered this absurdity and dismissed it. She wanted to dance for him now. By the end she was exhausted and sweat ran down between her breasts and she felt more alive and in a peculiar way excited.

A little while later the boss came over and beckoned her down.

"Here´s your money for tonight and an envelope for you." He said.

"What´s in the envelope?" She asked.

“I have no idea, it´s from some guy who sat at that table." He said pointing at the table where her admirer had been.

"You´re short changing me tonight. I still have 2 hours to go. If you´re letting me go early you’d better have paid me in full!"

"I have paid you in full. What´s more that guy has paid your wages for tomorrow on the agreement you don´t start dancing till 9:00. And there´s a generous tip for me to give you the day off! Now get gone. He said he wanted you fresh for your performance tomorrow."

Once she was dressed and alone backstage she examined the envelope, it felt empty. She opened it and inside was a single folded piece of note paper. On it were written the words "Thank you". She grinned and tucked the note into her bag.

The next night came. She was refreshed having slept in and then spent a relaxing day swimming and sunbathing at the beach. She had sorted out her most provocative costume and spent more time them usual on her hair and makeup. Not that she needed to, she knew any man in the club worth an erection would jump at the chance to shag her. She tempered this with the thought with the knowledge that most of the men in the bar would shag anything with a pulse given half the chance.

She walked to her podium just recently vacated for her. The music flowed almost as a warm up routine. The minutes ticked by as she worked up her routine, stretching a little bit further than usual, dipping a bit lower, paying more attention to the backbeats and rhythms. This was going to be a virtuoso performance.

Just about on queue the music moderated in tempo to let her catch her breath. She glanced around at the audience and was pleased to see she was the centre of attention in the club. There was however one empty table. The clock showed 10:15 and a little bit of her was upset that he was late. But she saw a waiter approaching the empty table with a tray containing a glass of brandy, a cigar and something else she could not quite make out.

Tonight he arrived and seated himself. The music even appeared to be marking time awaiting his attention. He went through the cigar lighting ritual and once it was alight the music ramped up as if the DJ had been prompted to do so.

She went to her primal self, that place where rhythm is all and let herself be seduced be the pounding base line. Bump and grind, stretch and twist she became more sensual with every beat. Watching him watching her there was a new look in his eyes tonight, a harder edge to his expression. She tempted him opening her legs to him at every possible opportunity, leaning towards him making the performance personal.

Buy the climax of her routine sweat was pouring off her and as the final beat sounded out the audience burst into applause and money was stuffed into the podium surround. Panting she looked to the man but he was gone! She collected the money while looking around but there was no sign of him. Disappointed she took her earnings backstage.

The manager was waiting for her.

"Here´s tonight’s earnings and five days extra for doing a good job and not fucking me about.”

"Why?", was all she could say dumbstruck by the turn of events.

"Do you want the money or an argument?" He said sharply!

Disconsolate and annoyed she snatched the envelope with the money in it and saying nothing strode out cursing under her breath.

Later in her room she opened the envelope. Inside was the money, but there was also a note. On it was an address in Palma with a date 5 days from today and a time 19:00. Below these was written "Wear what you wore tonight."

She considered the contents of the note. Was it a trap of some sort? It must be linked to her dismissal from the club. What did he want? It never occurred to her that the note was from anyone other than her secret admirer.

The next day she went to see where the address was. It turned out to be a post office! So it was a pun of sorts; she was to make a delivery of herself. The visit did nothing to allay her fears. It only peaked her interest a little more. This man had gone to considerable trouble and expense planning their meeting; but why all the show? Why not just ask her for a drink like all the other Johns did? Then she realised the reason; she always said no to the other Johns! But by this manoeuvre he had given her a choice and moreover 5 days to consider the choice; would she deliver herself up to him or not?

During the days before the "delivery" she vacillated between certainties that she should go and then back to a certainty that she should not. Everything she had been told or experienced told her not to go, everything in her own heart said go. This man had shown her no I´ll will (except getting her the sack!) There was no reason to go; no obvious incentive and all her fears were "but´s" and uncertainties. There were no absolutes here, no definite yes and no unequivocal no.

So on the 5th day when she awoke she made her choice. She chose not to go, it was too dangerous. At lunch time she changed her mind. The man had smiled at her in a way that showed he valued her; he wouldn´t hurt her.

She spent the afternoon in a flutter of excitement sorting out her hair and makeup; today done to perfection her costume sorted out and ready. She packed a change of clothes, it had never occurred to her to dress normally and change later, the instruction had been completely unambiguous. She covered her costume with a long light coat. She booked a taxi to take her to the address in Palma. The post office where she was to deliver herself to the man she had only ever seen in a club and who she had never spoken to in her life; but a man who cared enough about her to go to all this trouble to meet her. The attention flattered her and she felt strangely safe in that attention. Why would he harm something he desired? His ritual with the cigar and brandy showed a considered behaviour, she then recalled one Adolf Hitler and what his considered behaviour had caused.

Trembling with a mixture of excitement and trepidation she got into the taxi.

The taxi dropped her at the post office at 18:55. It was in a nice area of town. A few minutes later a Jaguar pulled up and a uniformed chauffer got out and approached her. He handed her a note. Written in a hand she recognised was written "Go with him."

The chauffeur beckoned her towards the car. With her heart beating quickly and her throat dry she followed his lead. He opened the door for her and she got in. He drove off and the travelled for about 30 minutes before entering the road to an estate. They approached a large 3 story villa style mansion. The car stopped outside the front entrance. The chauffer e****ted her into the foyer which was sumptuously styled in a Greco-Roman theme

"Are you dressed as requested?" Asked the chauffer.

“Yes I am.”

"Then please follow me."

He led her down a short corridor and opened one of the double doors at the end. She noticed the door was unusually thick and then that there was a second door behind the first separated by about a foot; it was equally thick. Sound proofing! Behind the second door was what she first took to be a conference room with a large round table at its centre surrounded by about a dozen large comfortable leather chairs. But the table was a stage and to her right was a set of steps leading up to it.

She took in her surroundings. The room ´s décor was dark; almost black; all the lighting including that for the stage was hidden in the walls and ceiling. The dance area of the stage was brightly lit she could see motes of dust being moved around by the silent air conditioning flow, the room was pleasantly cool. The lighting was arranged to illuminate the performer but not shine in the eyes of the audience who would be pretty much in darkness during a performance except for the light reflected from the dancer. The stage looked opaque at first glance but was in fact transparent with up-lighting embedded within it. The whole effect was intended to surround the performer in light while highlighting them against a dark background.

"The owner would like you to dance for him and a few guests tonight. You will be well paid of course. The music is all the stuff you are used to dancing to at the club so you should be ok with that. The party will arrive in about 30 minutes. Drinks are in the refrigerator over there, take what you want. I will be driving you home after the performance. Any questions?" the chauffer asked.

"Yes. Does he do this sort of thing a lot, you know, invite people who he has never talked to to his house?"

"Well I couldn’t say about the not talking to part but there have been a number of dancers in the past that I have brought here and returned; some came many times. I think you had best get ready now."

He turned to the stage and picked up a remote control and handed it to her.

"This is the sound system control. The lighting is synced into it so all you have to do is hit play and adjust the volume. Ok? "

"Yes, that sounds fine. I´ll see you later then?" She asked.

"Yes." He replied and with that he left closing the inner door behind him. The room was silent, utterly silent, and dark.

She turned on the sound system and adjusted the volume. The bass was tremendous, thumping through her. The fidelity of the system was fantastic she heard the music in a quality and texture she had never heard or felt before; it was as though she had been slightly deaf all her life and now for the first time she could really hear.

She climbed on stage and started to stretch out. Soon she was ready for her display and started to descend into that primal place in her third heart that embraced arousal and joy. The beat began to dominate her being. In this strange place she felt peculiarly safe; like her mother´s womb where the entire world was warm and safe and where the only sound was that of her mother´s beating heart. She gave herself completely to the dance and enjoyed it for the life it gave her.

The doors opened and the chauffer entered. She stopped dancing but he motioned her to continue. A group of men and women entered and arranged themselves around her.

She danced and they watched. She found the man and he acknowledged her with a broad grin. She could not help herself and reciprocated in kind. She looked at him and all the guests. They all acknowledged her in some way and she basked in their attention and adoration.

The tempo of the tracks increased and they were perfect for a sensual sexy performance. She danced for the pure joy of movement and interpretation; she did everything in her power to express her sexuality for the man and his guests.

The music volume started to diminish. She stood still and looked quizzically at the man who was visible in the light reflected from her sweating body.

"Please take your costume off my dear." He said.

She was not totally surprised by the request.

His expression was difficult to read. The best way she could describe it was as if he were preparing a fine cigar and wanted the best from it. He waited patiently for her to decide.

"Later. Please start the music again." She replied.

This first tiny conversation unknowingly set the tone of their future relationship with each making requests of the other and each complying, but in their own way and own time.

The music returned and slowly she stripped off her costume piece by piece. Each garment was dropped on the stage in front of the man. It was not long before she was naked. It did not inhibit her performance at all if anything it encouraged her. Here was her exhibitionist streak given full self expression. On this stage she showed herself off to this select group of people not for the money but because she wanted to, for the excitement, satisfaction and obvious pleasure of those around her.

The set started to reach its climax. She put everything she could into the last few minutes. When the music stopped she sank down on the stage exhausted and breathing like she had just finished a sprint.

The man, guests and chauffer applauded her efforts enthusiastically and sitting in the centre of the small stage she acknowledged their acclaim.

The chauffer ushered the guests out. The man remained. She became self conscious of her position and covered her breasts with her arm and looked defiantly into the eyes of this audience of one.

He stood and walked up onto the stage carrying a black silk robe. Looking down at her he held out his hand and helped her up. As she stood naked in front of him he studied her body for the merest fraction of a second and then stepped behind her and helped her into the exquisitely sensual silk. The robe caressed her body like a cool cloud.

He offered her his hand and guided her down the stairs and into the seat next to the one he had been sitting in. He prepared her a long drink and brought it to her. Sitting down he swivelled their chairs so they faced each other. The air conditioning that had been vital during the performance now almost chilled the air too much. The chill raised her nipples but wasn’t the only factor in their excitement.

“So did you like my performance?” She asked.

“Yes very much. You are exceptional and I do appreciate the exceptional. Did you enjoy performing for me?”

She considered her answer for a moment.

“Yes. It was a unique experience and I enjoyed it very, very much.”

“So it was and experience and nothing more?” He asked.

“No nothing more. Should I have considered it to be something more?”

His eyes betrayed his feelings. For him it was something more; not just a dance for excitement and pleasure but something he had hoped she had taken more from. He looked a little disappointed for a moment.

“But it was an exceptional experience and one I would like to repeat; often!” She replied.

His expression brightened at this.

“Good, I would like you to do this whenever I want.”

“Well I can’t say I can do it whenever you want as I can’t say where or when I will get another job to replace the one you had me kicked out of!” She replied.

“Touché. Well I suppose I can only accept that my actions have left us in this predicament. Come with me please.”

With that he took her hand and folded his arm into hers and walked with her out of the performance room and back to the hall. They went upstairs onto the first floor landing. There were a couple of doors and a corridor leading off of it. Taking a key from his pocket he handed it to her and indicated one of the doors. The implication was obvious and she went to the door and using the key he had given her opened it.

Behind this door was a suit of rooms; she explored them. There was lounge, bedroom and a bathroom all luxuriously appointed and exquisitely decorated. In the lounge picture windows opened onto a veranda terrace formed from the roof of the first floor below it. The view over the island was spectacular the lights of Palma visible and the glint of the moon reflected in the warm Mediterranean sea. She realised she had looked around like a little k** and that she was on her own in the suit. She went back and opened the door which had closed behind her. He was waiting there leaning against the corridor wall with his arms folded. His expression was happy.

“Sorry!” She said rather bashfully.

“That’s OK there’s only one key and it’s yours for as long as you want it.” He replied.

He didn’t move, but watched her as if expecting something more. She felt herself blush under his gaze. He smiled at her discomfiture.

“Well aren’t you going to ask my in?” He asked.

She understood exactly what he meant.

“Later. Give me an hour.” And with that she closed the door.

She showered and with a towel wrapped around her hair she explored the contents of the dressing table in the bedroom; nothing but the very best makeup and perfumes. The closet contained some spectacular clothes and lingerie. In the lounge there was a bar with a humidor.

Around an hour and a half later, just after she had finished getting ready there was a knock at the door. She opened it and stepped back framing herself for him to view. His eyes revealed his lust; she basked in his desire. She felt the first flush of passion between her legs.

“May I come in?” He asked.

“Please do.” She replied in a voice much smaller than she had intended.

She stepped back keeping her distance so he could see her properly in the classic little black Chanel dress she had chosen. She could see he approved of her choice. Her hair up and she had put on a black velvet chocker to show off her long slender neck. For just a second she posed for him and then held out her hand which he took. She led him out on the veranda where she had prepared a table with brandy, cigar and wine for her. He looked at the neatly laid out table under the stars and half crescent moon, but he did not sit down. Instead he drew her back inside to the lounge.

She stood expectantly unsure of what to do in these strange circumstances.

“I would like to guide you to climax, if you will allow me to?” He asked.

Startled into silence by the bold request she simple blushed and nodded her assent to his request feeling like a gauche young girl confronted be an older and much more experience lover.

Letting go of her hand he left her in the middle of the lounge and went and sat in one of the large arm chairs. He sat studying her. She returned his gaze.

“Show me.”

“I don’t understand?” She stammered.

He fetched a dining chair and stood it behind her, he then sat down again in front of her.

“I want you to undress and cum for me.” He said.

Her heart beat faster at the thought of what he had asked her to do for him. He looked at her and that hard edge was back; not unkind, just determined to have what he desired exactly as he wanted it.

“Do you want me to dance for you first?” She asked.

“No thank you. I just want to watch you masturbate to a climax and do it slowly and carefully for your pleasure and mine.” He replied.

Her throat was dry and the exhibitionist in her thrilled at the idea of what he wanted. This man who had taken possession of her in oh so gentle a way, but he had none-the-less taken possession of her. She realised it was not a question of saying yes but that right now nothing in her wanted to say no. There was no dilemma, no question at all she wanted to cum for him. She was getting wet and hot and bothered simply standing before him.

“I will cum for you.” She said, and smiled at him.

Slowly and provocatively she started to pull her dress up at the hips so the hem rose higher a little bit at a time; she teased him raising the hem oh so carefully to draw out the moment of expectation. Her thighs were revealed clad in sheer silk stockings; then the suspenders holding them appeared and finally the crotch of her knickers resting in the little triangle between her legs. He fidgeted on his chair and none to discreetly adjusted his growing erection.

Now her dress was raised above her hips she sat down on the chair behind her with her legs pressed tightly together. Keeping them together she took the straps holding the dress up and pulled them from her shoulders. The dress fell down briefly revealing her tight firm naked breasts. She covered them with her crossed arms but could not hold the reveal back for long. She palmed and coaxed her nipples and felt her own flesh respond to her desire to please and be observed.

She displayed for him, squeezing her small breasts between her upper arms, teasing and tugging her nipples as she looked into his eyes. He watched her, the voyeur in him unrepentant and unashamed as he enjoyed her exposure and increasing nudity.

She teased herself not letting the damp between her legs drive her too fast to the final moment. She wanted to enjoy the journey just as much as the final destination. Little did she realise how long this journey would be or how a good climax is all in the preparation.

Her breasts tingling, still keeping her legs closed, she moves her hand into her crotch. With a few strokes the crotch of her knickers were wet through. She stirs her clit through her underwear concealed between her legs. He juices flow from her sopping cunny and soak her. Even she is breathless at the level of her arousal but she has never done anything like this before. She opens her legs watching his eyes as she does so; his gaze is drawn to her sex still covered by her hand. She raises her hand revealing the sopping crotch of her silk panties. He smiles at her appreciatively for sharing her excitement in this moment.

She moves her hand inside her panties finding her clitty with a couple of fingers. She swirls her fingers around it and is electrified by the sudden and disproportionate response to her own fingers. She gasps at the shock of contact and backs off a little; at this rate she’ll pop in moments and she wants this to last. She is excited by this intimate exposure more than she had expected; in fact a lot more than she had expected!

“Show me.” He says.

Standing a little unsteadily she eases out of her dress which whispers down her body and legs. Turning around she pulls her knickers down to reveal a spectacularly toned arse. Covering herself she turns back to face him.

She sits closed legged and lowers her arms to her sides. Slowly she opens her legs teasing out the moment. But she knows what he wants so there is no false modesty now. She opens her legs as wide as she can. Her pussy is glistening with her juices; the aroma of her arousal pervades the room.

“More.” He says.

Her hands move towards her sex and she opens herself for him watching his reaction as she does so. He is absorbed, transfixed by what she has shown him. She enjoys his unbridled pleasure. Her wet hot flesh is pink and swollen with excitement.

“You must ask permission to cum.” He says.

She acknowledges his command with a nod of her head.

He instructs her. “Continue.”

With a pair of fingers she scissors her clit drawing the hood back and forth over the tip. With her other hand she works two fingers inside herself; it’s a tight fit but she’s so slippery it requires little effort. She finds her golden trigger and firmly movers her fingers on it, back and forth in time with those on her clit. She starts feeling the growing tension in her, she could rush to orgasm but holds herself back making the moment last, but it won’t be long till her little death.

“Stop. Take your hands away from yourself.” He instructs.

Slightly startled by the insistence in his voice she complies without hesitation.

“I thought you wanted me to cum for you?” She said.

“I do, and you will, but trust me, but you aren’t ready just yet!”

He gets up and fetches another dining chair which is puts facing her but offset to her right so he can play with her with his right hand. He also has a tumbler full of ice cubes.

“Sit still and hold the seat of the chair.” He says.

He takes an ice cube from the tumbler and with a lovers caress he wipes it over her nipple. But the touch of the ice is not that of a lover its cold bites into her nipple and areola. He moves the cube around from nipple to nipple constantly keeping it moving preserving the discomfort but none of the numbing sensation constant contact would bring. Once the cube is reduced to a stub he pops it into his mouth. He takes a fresh cube from the tumbler.

He looks into her eyes and sees the little fright of the unexpected and unfamiliar. He places the cube on her navel, she gasps as the melting cool water runs down her belly and into the small well trimmed bush of hair on her pubis. He moves the ice further tracing a line that ends in her sex. The cube reaches her labia and starts to invade her, she starts to squirm trying to avoid the discomfort she knows is approaching.

“Keep still please.” Is all he says but she does his bidding as the ice moves closer to her cunny.

It reaches her clit and moves on. She bites her lip in an effort of self-control so as not to pull away from the biting ice. But to no avail. He does not take pity on her as a naive part of her had thought he would. Around her sex the ice swirls the sharp cold is painful. She waits for the ice to melt ending her torment. The cube has melted to a stub now, but this time its work is not finished. With a deft and practiced movement he places the ice at the entrance to her cunny and using a single finger pushes it inside her as far has he can. It’s too much and she rises involuntarily straddling the chair as her vagina tightens holding the ice inside but it melts quickly, the water mixed with her juices runs down the insides of her thighs. After a moment she sits back down.

He gets up and moves the chair to one side out of the way and sits back down in the arm chair.

“Begin again please.” He says.

Still shocked by the intensity of the discomfort caused by that small piece of ice in her pussy she puts her hands back where they had been. But the two destined for her G spot find no ready access into her now clenched tight pussy. Her mind is a mess. Being brought back from the edge so brutally and quickly has confused her path to orgasm.

She starts scissoring her clit again and with the tip of one finger teases open the entrance to her cunny. She circles the finger around and around opening herself up. Warming up quickly now her two fingers soon regain contact with her golden trigger. This time she comes to the boil a little slower than the first time; and sure enough just as she is reaching the point of no return.

“Stop.” He says.

Biting her lip, breathing hard and trembling she removes her hands and places them on the seat of the chair. He gets up and refreshes the tumbler of ice cubes and replaces the dining chair.

This time the first ice cube traces all over her breasts but not her nipples. Her already tingling breasts tighten and goose flesh appears over her. He takes a second cube but this time he stands behind her.

“Lean forward a little and arch you back forwards.” He says.

With her in this position he starts at the base of her neck and with small circular motions traces the the ice cube down her spine. The cool melt water runs down her back into the cleft of her arse. The ice chills her all over as her body tries to reconcile the impossible sensations. Even in privacy she could not reproduce this feeling as it would need a uniquely trusted playmate to do this for her. The ice has reached the point where he can almost not hold it anymore. He sits beside her and holds her chin in his left hand forcing her to look into his eyes. With his right hand he deftly places the stub of ice where he did before, but he holds her down on the chair. She jumps at the shock of the cold, and the melt water and cunny juices flow out of her again.

This time he stays sitting next to her on the dining chair.

“Begin again please.”

She starts working her way to climax again, he watches her intently. His close proximity arouses her. His attention is complete and flattering to her and disturbing. She can’t think straight anymore each near climax drives away a little more of her rational mind. She does his bidding. Yet again she is hot, wet open and ready to climax.

“You must ask to cum. Do you understand?” He asks.

“Yes I understand.”

She shoots him a filthy look as he disturbs her route to orgasm yet again.

“Trust me.” He says.

Her reaction surprises her.

“Why the fuck should I?” She snaps.

His reply says more about her motivation than even she realised at the time.

“Because you want to.” He replies.

The truth of it hits her and her head drops in realisation of why she is here doing this man’s bidding.

“Do you trust me?” He asks in a kind and respectful voice.


“Do you still want to cum for me?”


“Then begin again please, and don’t forget to ask before you cum!”

He remains on the dining chair close to her. With no ice this time she is already close. He instructs her as she masturbates, he guides her.

“Not so fast.”
“Breath deeper.”

Slowly and expertly he takes her closer and closer to the edge. Shaking in anticipation she hangs on the edge of oblivion again. Her mind is mush and driven to distraction be the feelings in her body.

“Please can I cum? Please can I cum?” She pleads.

To her horror he refreshes the ice cube tumbler. First the breasts and nipples and then her cunny and that final bastard piece of ice pushed inside her. The melted cube and cunny juice flow out again.

“Begin again please.” He says.

Almost in tears now she begins again. But by now her mind and body are disconnected and responses confused. She is hot and wet and starting to get sore from the friction. It’s harder to get close this time. But she climbs again to the peak.

“Please can I cum now, please, please, please?” She begs him.

Quaking with relief and foreboding she hears.


It breaks her will. She stops so close to cumming it hurts. She waits for the ice. But there is no ice this time. He moves his chair across in front of hers so it touches the one she is sitting on. Face to face now he lifts her legs over his and puts her hands on his shoulders. With his left hand he holds her chin and raises her head to look into her eyes. With his right hand he gently wets a couple of fingers and starts to hook them into her cunny seeking out her golden trigger. She twitches and squirms when he finds it. All is still.

“Will you cum for me?” He asks.

“Please let me cum, please!” She answers.

He starts to move his fingers inside her. It’s too much and she starts to climax. Straddled as she is over both the chair and his legs she can’t get away from his insistent fingers. She stands but this only makes penetration easier. He keeps his fingers moving in her clenching cunny and with his left arm pulls her close to him.

She screams and bucks as orgasm after orgasm flow through her. She slaps and pounds his back attempting to stop the torment inside her. But he keeps up the relentless stimulation and she can’t stop cumming. After a few minutes she starts to subside over his shoulder. After 20 seconds or so he starts to move his fingers inside her again, she is now a mindless a****l trapped by her own lust and his desire to own her.

“Do you want to cum again?” He asks.

Her reply is to open her legs as wide as she can and yet again settle onto his probing fingers. Once more he drives her to oblivion and again and again until she is sated and asks no more of him. He slides his fingers out of her and manoeuvres her onto his lap. He lifts her semi-conscious body and carries her into the bedroom. While she is slightly built she is unexpectedly heavy being almost solid muscle from her virtually continuous exercise. He pops her into bed and sits next to her watching over her as she recovers. After a few minutes her breathing gets back to something resembling normality and she opens her eyes. He smiles down at her.

“Well done. Did you enjoy it?” He asks.

She smiles and nods, not yet trusting herself to speak.

“Plenty more where that came from. Now you rest here and I’ll see you in the morning.”

Stroking her matted hair away from her face he kisses her.

“Thank you.” She says.
“The pleasure was all mine.” He replies.
“Oh I don’t think so.” She says smiling up at him.

He gets up to leave.

“Won’t you stay? “She asks.

“Not tonight, maybe tomorrow.”

“Oh.” She sounded disappointed.

“You sl**p now. We have plenty of time.”

He places one final kiss delicately upon her lips then turns to leave her as she drifts of into a dreamless satisfied sl**p. But before switching off the light he looks back at his latest, finest and probably final lover. Switching off the light he leaves and gently closes the bedroom door behind him.

Delighted with the evening’s outcome he walks out onto the veranda and enjoys the warm Mediterranean night under a cloudless sky where he sits and sips his Courvoisier L'Essence and smokes his Montecristo content that his collection is finally complete.

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