Madame B - Desire

"Thank you… Bethany," he said, reading my name tag. Later he told me he'd only pretended to look at my badge but actually had been trying to see down my top.

Max explained that he was outfitting his new bachelor pad. As I showed him our most cutting-edge, exclusive items, it became apparent that he had great taste and lots of money. He picked out some cool artwork and an edgy, geometric sofa. When I was helping him to choose an armchair, he bounced on a leather chair and asked me if I'd like to sit on his lap. I would have liked to, very much, but it was not the time or the place.

"Not here, not while I'm working," I said. "But if you'd like to take me out to dinner, I'll sit wherever you like."

Max picked me up from work three hours later when my shift ended, took me to dinner at an expensive restaurant and then on to a cocktail bar. I went home with him, and sure enough I sat on his lap. Naked. For two hours. We've been inseparable ever since. I knew that night that I'd met my soul mate.

Like me, Max is what you'd call a classic narcissist. He loves to watch us fuck, and we've filmed ourselves screwing from every angle in every room of the house. When a shipment of huge designer mirrors came into the shop, I ordered one for him. It's floor-to-ceiling, and he loves to fuck in front of it, pounding my pussy from behind while we make eye contact in the mirror, watching each other's face as we come. Sometimes he'll press me against the mirror and fuck me right up against it, so that when we've finished, the sweaty outlines of our bodies are imprinted on the glass. And sometimes it's enough just to talk about what it would be like to have other people watch us fucking. How hot it would be to see them lose control as they watch his dick slide into me, as they watch our tangled bodies struggling together. This fantasy never fails to get us both off. Like I said, Max is my soul mate.

When we'd been together a year, I thought that I should do something special to celebrate the fact that we were more in love and hornier for each other than ever. And by something special I didn't mean a new piece of furniture! I wanted to give him a new sexual adventure, something he'd never forget, something that would gratify our exhibitionist streak. I thought about posting a film of us fucking on the Internet. I could just picture Max's cock getting hard as we broadcast our climaxes for total strangers to watch. To know that other people out there were watching us, dicks in hands, vibrators on clits? God, I got wet just thinking about it. But I didn't dare risk it.

I racked my brain for ideas, and then one day, as I was putting the finishing touches on a new window display, and people on the street outside stopped to watch me at work, it came to me in a flash. I knew just what kind of anniversary gift I was going to give Max.

When the day came, Max took me out to dinner to the very same French bistro he'd wined and dined me at the year before. Over the meal, we talked about our favorite subject: sex.

"I like your tits in that top," he said. "I can't wait to take you home and put them in my mouth."

"I tell you what would be even sexier," I replied, warming to the theme. "If you did that here and now. If I just whipped them out, here in the restaurant. Look at that waiter-imagine how hard he'd get seeing my nipples, how jealous he'd be. And that woman over there dining by herself-we could show her your dick. I could take it in my mouth, and she'd be rubbing her clit under the table."

I kicked off my shoe and slid a stockinged foot up the inside of Max's thigh. I realized I was having the desired effect as my foot encountered a rock-hard erection. I pressed hard with the ball of my foot. He moaned and closed his eyes.

"Don't tease me," he said. "You don't know how much I'd love to fuck you in public tonight, but even I draw the line at nudity at the table. It's very bad etiquette."

I giggled. "Well, you'll just have to make do with whatever else I've got planned for you, won't you?" I said, raising one eyebrow.

"Plans?" said Max, looking excited. "I didn't know there were plans."

"Oh, yes," I said. "But I won't tell you until after you've had your coffee." I've never seen a man down an espresso so quickly.

"Come on then," he said. "What is it?"

"Maybe I'll tell you on the walk home," I said. "I think you'll like it."

As we paid the bill and walked out of the restaurant, I had to laugh; Max was so hard that he couldn't stand up straight, and when the waiter tried to help him on with his jacket Max blustered, saying that he'd rather carry it, thank you very much, and backed out of the restaurant with the garment draped over his cock. It was less obvious to the casual observer, but I was pretty stoked, too-I was totally soaking at the thought of what we were going to do, apprehensive that I would actually pull it off, and wildly turned on by the hard-on that I could see straining against the fly of Max's trousers. When he did come he was going to shoot so much spunk into my hole that his balls would be completely drained.

Instead of turning right at the crossroads, I took a sharp left.

"Where are you taking me?" said Max.

"I've left something at work," I said, trying not to let my voice betray my excitement. Max looked disappointed. Hanging around in my shop obviously wasn't his idea of a sexy surprise.

We got to the store, and I stood outside the window, looking at the bed on display, wondering if Max would figure out what I had planned. The window display I'd lovingly created looked even more impressive than it did by day: dramatic black-and-white bed in a ruby red room, kitsch and 1960s in style, lit by a few retro spotlights.

Max looked at me curiously.

"Want to go to bed?" I said.

"Oh, you beauty," said Max as it finally hit him. "Let me at it."

Using my keys, I let myself into the shop through the side door and punched in the numbers that disabled the main burglar alarm. We tiptoed through the shop toward the window display at the front.

"You clever, dirty little bitch," said Max, slapping me on the ass. We stood for a while, hidden behind the headboard, looking into the street. It was deserted, and there was no guarantee that anyone would see us. It was possible that no one would come by at all, but they might-they might. And it was that possibility, that unknown factor that was the total thrilling thing. Who knew what an audience would do, how they would react? Would they be aroused? Watch open-mouthed? Or call the police? To Max and I, nothing was a greater aphrodisiac than risk.

We undressed behind the headboard, peeling off each other's clothes between stolen kisses and dirty words. When we were naked, we padded around to the window itself, stood in the spotlights for a few moments, taking in our surroundings. Max drew me toward him, picked me up, kissed me hard and aggressively, and set me on the edge of the bed. I was wild with desire, so eager to begin that my whole body shook. Max gently pushed my shoulders back. I yielded to his hands and lay down. Max kissed and licked my foot, working his way up my ankles, calves, knees, and inner thighs. When I could feel his breath on my pussy and I started to get really wet, he began all over again on the other foot. This time, when his head reached the hot, throbbing place between my legs, he rested his chin on the bed and blew gently on my clitoris. I began to feel the first gentle spasms that foreshadow an orgasm.

Max ran his hands along the smooth skin of my inner thighs. With one hand inside each, he pushed my legs apart as far as they would go. Then he pushed them a little bit farther, and I felt the buildup of a dull tension as the muscles resisted. I could feel his breath on my waiting pussy. He must have been able to see it quivering, desperate for his attention, and placed a kiss directly on it. He hooked his shoulders under my knees, so that my legs remained splayed, and used his fingers to part the skin around my clit, leaving it exposed to his warm breath. Then he went to work with his tongue, tracing tiny shapes around my clitoris, avoiding the bud itself. This let the orgasm build more slowly than any I'd ever experienced before. Round, up, down, round, up, down, teasing me and keeping it steady until I cried out. Because Max had his back to the window, neither of us knew if we were being watched or not.