Amore Alfresco
From The Art of Control
On Display
The club is seedy and dark, as is the neighborhood. The music is loud and thumping and there are bodies intertwined and moving seductively on the dance floor. The lighting is dim and the smell and mist of cigarette smoke fills the air. Walking deeper into the crowded bar, the odor of sex, sweat and booze overwhelms me. I scan the room quickly while holding onto Dylan for dear life.
Off in the corner there are bodies seemingly swaying to the music. When the flash of the strobe lights hit their faces, I can see their orgasmic expressions and it becomes obvious to me that several of the couples are fucking. There’s a girl pinned on a wall by a man as he thrusts violently into her. What kind of club is this? No one seems to mind the sex being had in every nook and cranny of the establishment, and the din of conversation is heard underneath the blaring electronica.
Dylan guides me to a barstool and I seat myself while he orders me a dirty martini and a vodka tonic for himself. He drinks it quickly and keeps his eyes on me while I sip at my drink and continue to look around the room. I become fixated on a couple sitting at one of the tables only a few feet from us. The woman is feasting on her date’s dick in broad view of everyone as if she’s eating dinner at a social gathering. My face flushes with excitement and unexpectedly my pussy starts to throb. I glance at Dylan to see if he’s noticed and, of course, he has. He smiles deviously at me and licks his lips. His eyes are lusty and desire is seeping from every pore in his body. He takes my drink out of my hand and sets it on the bar alongside his.
Leaning into my ear, he whispers, “I’m going to have you here in front of all these people, Isa. I want everyone here to see how exquisite you look when you’re being fucked and what an obedient little wife you are when you swallow my come.”
My stomach quivers with uneasiness.
“Answer me,” he says.
“I didn’t realize that was a question,” I reply.
“It wasn’t,” he smiles, leaning into my mouth and licking my bottom lip.
I try to lean forward to nibble his tongue, but he pulls back and runs his hands up the insides of my thighs and pulls me off the stool. He kneels in front of me, reaches underneath my skirt and slips my panties off. Several people look over and I giggle nervously. He stands, slips my lingerie into his jeans pocket and kisses my forehead. Lifting me back onto the stool, he slides my skirt up while he unbuckles his belt and unbuttons his jeans. My breathing and heart rate become rapid, my eyes scanning the room anxiously.
“Tsk, tsk, Isabel. Eyes on me,” Dylan tells me, guiding me by my chin to make eye contact.
He pulls his hardened dick out of his pants and strokes it firmly with one hand and with the other, he licks his fingers and inserts them into me.
“Spread wide for me,” he orders and I lean back against the bar and open my legs for him. This feels so dirty. I close my eyes, not wanting to see the judgmental foreign eyes on me but Dylan won’t allow it.
“I told you to watch me, Isa. I won’t say it again,” Dylan scolds.
My eyes instinctively pop open to my Master’s command and I focus on his cock as he continues to stroke himself. I sense people around us shifting as several bodies hover and watch our performance. Dylan continues to ease his fingers in and out of me while his thumb presses down on my clit, making me squirm. When I’m sufficiently wet, he pulls his fingers out and sucks my juices off of them. Resting his hand on my lower tummy, he slowly guides the head of his dick into me. He eases into me and rhythmically starts fucking me at a painstakingly slow pace, teasing me and giving everyone around us a good show. I grip the sides of the stool, trying to withhold my urge to moan out for fear of embarrassment. Dylan doesn’t seem to mind at all and his grunts can be heard through the music as he slowly grinds himself into me. He pulls his cock all the way out, only to push it back in, filling me completely. The feeling of the ridge of his head meeting my entrance, only to be forcefully pushed back in makes me wet beyond belief and my juices trickle down my inner thigh.
Something out of the corner of my eye catches my attention and I make the mistake of glancing over. There’s a ghostly white man with a shock of blonde hair standing not far behind Dylan who is watching intently as he strokes his erection through his pants. I quickly look up at Dylan and feel like bolting from the bar, screaming from humiliation. Dylan senses my apprehension and grabs my hips as if to stop me from running. His stance shifts and he rises up on his tiptoes as he pulls me in to him. He thrusts hard, hitting my G-spot. The jolt of electricity takes me by surprise and I unwillingly whimper. When I do, more people look over and our audience widens.