A Night at the Theatre - Sex Stories

A Night at the Theatre

... seat was so comfortable I could have slept in it easily, if I weren't so nervous. The cool leather pressed against my bare thighs, and my dress barely covered anything of my cheeks. It was so quiet, even the engine, when it started, could hardly be felt. A glass of champagne sat on a shelf near me, next to a little wooden box and a silver envelope. I opened the envelope and read the card inside: “Tonight you are the guest and property of Mr Duncan Johnson. He will greet you on arrival. You will address him only as ‘Sir’. He has a gift for you that he wishes you to wear. Apart from the dress and shoes, you may not wear anything else.” Wow. I laughed. Nothing else? In this dress? The card wasn’t signed, but it was Ben’s handwriting. He seemed to be enjoying giving me to his boss. Was he just selling me for his career? Or was this some cuckold fantasy he was playing out? Sighing, I kicked my shoes off and removed my hold-ups and thong, wondering just how well the chauffeur could see me. Then I opened the box, and… Holy fuck. Holy. Fuck. A butt plug. A huge butt plug. Not novelty-monster huge, but much bigger than my usual medium-sized plug. Wearing this one would be like walking around with Ben’s not-insignificant cock shoved up my ass. It was beautiful too. Black and shiny, and suspended from the drawstring was a little crystal pendant, designed to catch the light as it dangled below my wide-stretched ass. Nestled next to it in the box was a tube of lube. I hitched up my skirt ...

... and squatted on the floor of the car. I gave the plug a liberal coating of lubricant, trying not to get my hands too messy, and squeezed more in and around the entrance of my ass. Wedging the plug between the floor and my tight ring, I lowered myself slowly. Very quickly I was being stretched wider than ever before, painfully wide, deliciously wide. My whole body was tense with the wonder of it. Slowly I descended, slowly it penetrated, and when at last it popped into place I just sat there on the floor, with my eyes closed, delighting in being so utterly full. If the driver could see me, he would have been treated to the sight of a girl lost in pleasure, her legs wide, her ass stuffed, her bare pussy on display and very wet. Eventually I recovered enough to adjust my dress and sit again, and I sipped champagne as we glided through the busy London streets, stopping at last outside the Theatre Royal Haymarket. The door glided open and I stepped out, straightening my dress as I did. A tall, black man in a grey bespoke suit stood there waiting for me. Not only was he one of the tallest men I had ever seen, he had an athletic physique to go with it. His focus was absolutely on me, unashamedly studying me, his gaze lingering between my thighs. He was a beautiful man, confident, predatory. He held out a hand in greeting. I tried to shake his hand, but he took my hand and lifted it to his lips. “Miss X–,” he said. “I’m so pleased you are mine tonight. May I call you ‘Ali’?” “Please ...