Waiting for you - Sex Stories

Waiting for you

... equating to a flashback; a vision that excruciatingly slipped through my fingers just as I tried to hold it. I needed to calm down and think this through. I tried to calm my breathing and looked back towards my place of purchase and that's when I saw it. A small piece of paper, folded over and wedged between two slats. I tentatively reached out. I started unfolding it, closing my eyes momentarily and taking a deep breath before allowing my eyes to finally fall upon the worn, lined paper. The black ink detailed my predicament with precision and certitude. 'Good morning slut. You are chained to this bench for me. I will come for you at five to seven.' What the fuck? The blood seemed to flow out of my body and I felt a chill as the penny dropped. *** Before, at the embassy party... I approached the impeccable couple and presented my wares. He didn't even register my existence, and besides his glass was well filled, but she looked up. Samantha looked up. Her eyes were inquisitive as she scanned my face; as if she were trying to place me. A moment later she flinched. It was an innocuous movement that was well controlled and undetectable for anyone who was unaware. "More Champagne Madam?" I inquired. "That would be lovely. Thank you very much," she replied politely as she placed her glass on the tray for refilling, her hand trembling slightly. "Would Madam be requiring anything else?" I continued. "That's very kind, thank you. I'm fine." "And how is Annabelle?" I smiled at her ...

... innocently. Her top lip trembled imperceptibly and her eyes flitted around her like a hunted animal. She remained in control though and only her dilated pupils betrayed her real emotions; fear, excitement, arousal. *** It was an old school friend, Anabelle, that had spoken to me about him, several months previously. We had been alone, just the two of us and we had been drinking. We had got to talking about old times and old dreams, before navigating to the admission that our lives hadn't panned out exactly how we would have wished. How our husband's, while occupying professional positions and salaries that we had always been encouraged to seek out and for which we were frequently congratulated, somehow fell short. Hesitantly, and after having sworn me to secrecy, Annabelle then started talking to me about this man she had met. The man that had handcuffed me to this bench. The man whose note I had just read. Her account had been vivid and scandalous; it had taken my breath away and excited me as I listened to her debauched escapades and couldn't help but notice how her body trembled as she did so. She explained how you only ever got one night with him and she had a far off look and a twinkle in her eyes as she explained it all in startling detail. I had got to thinking about it, a lot. In fact, it had started occupying my thoughts incessantly, tugging at me at the most inopportune moments, pulling my attention away from my daily life. I had found myself damp in public places as my ...