After brunch, we walked through the park. The remote felt warm in my pocket, a promise of the power I held. You walked beside me, trying to maintain a normal conversation with our friends, but I could see the tension in your shoulders.
I pressed the button, setting the vibrator to a low, steady hum. You stumbled slightly, catching yourself on my arm.
“Everything alright?” our friend Sarah asked, oblivious.
“Fine,” you managed, though your voice was tight. “Just tripped.”
I increased the intensity, watching as your pupils dilated. Your knuckles were white where you gripped your purse.
“Let’s sit by the fountain,” I suggested, leading you to a bench in full view of the path. As soon as you were seated, I cranked it to maximum.
Your back arched almost imperceptibly, a soft gasp escaping your lips that you disguised as a cough. Your thighs pressed together, your body trembling with the effort of staying still.
“Such a beautiful day,” Sarah commented, stretching languidly.
“Yes,” I agreed, my eyes fixed on you. “Beautiful.”
I could see the sweat beading on your upper lip, the way your chest rose and fell with shallow breaths. You were fighting it, fighting the orgasm that threatened to overwhelm you in public.
“Let’s go shopping,” I said suddenly, standing and pulling you up. I kept the vibrator on high as we walked, watching you struggle to maintain your composure.
In the boutique, I cornered you in a dressing room, locking the door behind us.
“Please,” you begged, your voice ragged. “I can’t—”
“You can,” I said, my hands on your shoulders, forcing you to your knees. “And you will.”
I unzipped my pants, my cock already hard. “Open your mouth.”
You complied instantly, your tongue darting out to taste the bead of precum. I threaded my fingers through your hair, setting the rhythm.
“Look at me,” I commanded. “Watch me while I fuck your mouth.”
Your eyes were glazed with pleasure and pain, your body still trembling from the vibrator’s assault. I increased the intensity one more time, watching as you convulsed around my cock, your orgasm finally breaking through your control.
I followed immediately, spilling down your throat as you swallowed greedily.
“Good girl,” I said, helping you up. “Now, let’s try on some clothes.”
I selected a thin silk dress, holding it against your body. “This one. No underwear.”
You nodded, your movements stiff as you complied. When you emerged from the dressing room, the fabric clung to your curves, your nipples clearly visible through the material.
“Perfect,” I said, my voice low. “Now for our final destination.”
The art gallery was quiet, the echo of our footsteps the only sound. I led you to a secluded corner, pressing you against the wall.
“Hands behind your back,” I whispered, my lips brushing your ear. “Don’t move.”
I hiked up your dress, my fingers finding your already slick folds. The vibrator was still humming inside you, a constant reminder of my control.
“Please,” you whimpered, “not here.”
“Especially here,” I corrected, my thumb circling your clit. “I want to see you come surrounded by all this beauty.”
I worked you mercilessly, my fingers matching the rhythm of the vibrator. Your body arched, a silent scream tearing from your throat as you came again, your juices coating my fingers.
“Shh,” I soothed, as a security guard approached. “Just admiring the art.”
The guard nodded, moving on. I turned you to face the painting, my body pressed against yours.
“Look at it,” I said, my voice low. “See how the artist captured that moment of pure ecstasy? That’s what you look like when you come for me.”
I withdrew my fingers, bringing them to your lips. “Taste yourself.”
You licked them clean, your eyes never leaving mine.
“Tonight,” I promised, as we left the gallery, “you’re going to sleep with the plug in. And tomorrow… tomorrow we’re going to see just how much more you can take.”
