Whatever It Takes Pt. 02: Truth - Sex Stories

Whatever It Takes Pt. 02: Truth

... that she'd laid out dark trousers, black socks, a crisp white shirt, and electric pink panties. I held the panties, an open question.

'What?' she asked with a smile. 'Tonight I'm feeling playful.'

I pulled the panties along the smoothness of my legs and then tight around the cage. I caught my reflection in the full-length mirror. Naked, shaved bare, wearing pink too-too small panties, two words stitched across the crotch, 'Dirty Girl.' Sarah, behind me, ran her hand along the smooth curve of my ass. She reached up, fingernails sharpened, and tweaked at my nipples. I shivered, hardened, pinched, diminished.

'Such a cute sissy,' she said and, without understanding why, I shuddered with something like pleasure.

Sarah scooped up precum from the tip of the cage, fed it to me, I sucked at her finger.

'What do we say?'

'Thank you,' I said.

'Good girl,' she said. My dicklet throbbed. 'Now get dressed,' she said.

We arrived at the restaurant and the Maitre d' led us to a booth in the far corner. He lit a candle and we sat at the table amidst flickering shadow.

The waiter, dirty blonde, young, smug, stacked, took our drinks order. Sarah ordered champagne.

The waiter took it down and, as he turned to leave, Sarah called him back, leaned forward, her breasts threatening to spill out onto the table. She took his nametag between her fingers, her ring finger sparkled.

'Jordan,' she paused, holding my eyes while I held my breath, 'thank you.' She said it, ...

... her hand against his, fluttering, restless, for but a moment.

'A pleasure,' he said. He looked to me and winked, smug, then to his friend behind the bar. 'What the fuck?' That's what his expression said. His friend shrugged with a grin that suggested he'd seen it all and more besides.

Jordan left and I reached for Sarah's hand across the flat of the table. She withdrew, but with a smile, with something like playfulness.

'Tonight is for me,' she said.

Jordan returned, poured the champagne, Sarah emptying the flute with a single swallow. 'More please Jordan,' she said and he refilled the glass. 'Thank you, Jordan,' she said his name with emphasis, as if savouring the rich texture of his consonants and vowels. 'Right now, my husband has some explaining to do. But you and I may talk later, okay?'

He rested his hand against her bare shoulder for a moment. 'I'll look forward to it,' he said, his eyes on her, her eyes on me.

'Now talk,' she said to me. 'How many times did you fuck her?'

'What?' I said.

'How many times did you fuck her?'

I sighed. 'Sarah, what good is this going to do?'

She leaned towards me, her gesture soft, lazy, but her smile all menace.

'You'll tell me because I want to know,' she whispered. 'You'll tell me because you promised to do what it takes. Now talk.'

Across the restaurant Jordan watched, Jordan waited, Jordan boded his time.

I took a long sip of the champagne, already feeling the effects, already experiencing the ...