The attractive couple who was feasting on each other walks over and joins the crowd watching us. They start fondling and groping each other unabashedly and my arousal piques. I’m torn between feeling self-conscious and turned on. All of these eyes are on us and it would seem no one is judging us after all. As a matter of fact, they all appear to be turned on by what they see. I feel so wanton right now.
The music momentarily pauses as one song changes to another and in that brief moment of silence, the sloppy wet sounds of our fucking can be heard, along with Dylan’s moaning. He adjusts his posture again and pushes my legs apart even wider, completely exposing me to the crowd.
“Play with yourself,” he mutters just as another song comes overhead.
I move my hand to my clit and start circling my fingers around and tapping at it. I’m so aroused right now I fear what kind of flood will break loose when I get my release. Dylan angles his pelvis upward and drives into me harder with each thrust as my finish approaches. I pinch my swollen bundle of nerves, the cascade of heat and coolness burning in my loins. Closing my eyes, I get my release and scream out as I come, soaking both Dylan and me.
A man’s voice to the right of Dylan also moans out, fuck in French, while I sit quivering on the barstool.
Dylan grabs my hand and suckles my wet fingers. “On your knees,” he orders.
Dylan completely owns me and everyone here is witness to the power he exerts over me. Still trembling from my orgasm, I lower myself as gracefully as I can to the floor and I do as I’m told and stroke him hard. I run my tongue from the base of his sack up his shaft while looking into his eyes. My tongue ring hits the head of his dick and he grunts loudly and jerks. Pushing my hair out of my face, he holds it back as he guides my head up and down, occasionally forcing my head down abruptly and gagging me. Flicking and fluttering my tongue lightly over his frenulum, I hear Dylan hiss through his teeth in delight.
Dylan throws his head back and grips my hair tighter. “Yes, that’s it. Fuck me with that beautiful mouth,” he mumbles.
I close my eyes tightly and concentrate on my breathing and the sounds around us. I open my throat to his shaft as he pushes deeper into my mouth. There are hushed voices and French mutterings, some of which I can make out. I hear the words she’s beautiful and all of my previous self-consciousness dissolves as I gratify my husband. I love him and want nothing more than to please him, and I want everyone here to see how perfect we are for each other.
The distinct pulsing of Dylan’s cock can be felt as he starts to come, but he pulls away from my mouth and I open wide and wait for his delicious gift. He jacks off into my mouth and spews a line of obscenities as I drink him up. As I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, he leans down and tilts my chin up.
“Dire mercie maître,” he tells me.
I guess he knows a little French after all. Like a good submissive, I obey his order and thank him. “Mercie, maître.”
Dylan helps me up from my knees and I quickly finish my drink while he puts himself back together. The people around us dissipate and find their next source of sexual entertainment, and I just want to get the hell out of Dodge. I practically drag Dylan out of the bar and he stops me just before we hit the doors.
“Aren’t you missing something?”
I turn to face him, not sure what he’s talking about. Pulling my panties out of his pocket, he waves them teasingly in front of me. I reach out to grab them and he pulls them just out of my reach and smiles stupidly at me. I reach for them again and he raises them above my head, taunting me with them. Oh, this is ridiculous. I narrow my eyes at him and he chuckles while he dangles and jiggles them above my head.
“Are you going to give them to me or not?” I ask.
“They’re right here. Just take them,” he teases.
I reach for them one last time and he switches hands on me and laughs loudly. Several people standing nearby start to laugh along and I lose patience with him.
“You’re so juvenile sometimes,” I say, walking out the door.
Dylan swiftly catches up and grabs my arm.
“Okay, fine. Here, take them,” he chuckles, holding them out to me at arm level.
I stand motionless, giving him stink eye.
“Just take them,” he says still smiling boyishly.
I sneak my hand up slowly and yank them out of his grip and he howls with laughter. I’m glad he’s so amused. I suddenly feel the urge to wrap my frilly pink skivvies over the top of his head and go running down the street, mooning all of the French hookers. That’ll get a laugh out of him.
I look from left to right and when I think no one is looking, I quickly slip my panties back on and smooth my skirt down over my thighs.