Attending an event with Jean was always a treat, and this was for a great cause. I enjoyed watching him interact with others and socialize, something he has admitted he doesn’t do often. Because I was usually his plus one, I was familiar with some of the faces. He always introduced me as his girl, and I was relieved nobody ever asked for details. For work, I was a businesswoman if anyone asked, and since I co-owned a very successful lingerie store, it was not even a lie. These events had proven to be a good place to get new customers for my business because the women were always interested in getting new lingerie.
The event was a fundraiser for young children with disabilities. While I appreciated the dedication and importance of the endeavor and even contributed, I was so turned on that I couldn’t tell you anything about what went on if you asked me. Jean was the perfect date, however, and ensured I was always doing okay.
He kept me close mostly, discreetly activating the device while making small talk. The biggest challenges were keeping my face neutral while the toy vibrated inside me and not moaning. I was a loud moaner during sex, so having to keep my pleasure sounds inside was another tortuous challenge.
The toy did its job of keeping me aroused. So much that I almost came twice but managed to hold on by thinking about some of my worst sex experiences and also by not looking at Jean. I especially avoided his hands and lips because staring at them reminded me of how he used them on me. While his gift vibrated inside me, recalling the memories almost sent me over the edge, but I held on by sheer willpower and a desire to please him. I wanted to hold on to prolong my release and to please my torturer.
When he was dragged across the room for a discussion by one of his acquaintances, I opted to stay behind and chat with some of the ladies from the Planning Committee and almost spilled my drink when I suddenly felt the vibration against my core.
“What’s wrong, Beauty? Are you all right?” Catherine, the motherly Coordinator asked me with a face etched in concern.
I tried to smile. “I’m oka — ”
I paused as another vibration went through me, making me close my eyes briefly until the onslaught passed.
Fuck. This man was trying to kill me, I thought.
“You’re not okay,” Merlinda, one of the guests admonished. “Are you unwell?”
Grasping the excuse, I put a hand over my lower abdomen, biting my lip to stifle another moan. “Yes, I’ve been experiencing lower abdominal cramps.”
The other women’s eyes filled with sympathy.
“Sorry, dear. Those cramps can be quite painful. Jean should take you home to rest,” Merlinda suggested.
Yes, yes. Jean should take me home. Not to rest though.
“Did I hear my name?” Jean asked, approaching us with a nonchalance that made me want to hit him.
“You should take your girl home, she’s not feeling well,” Catherine admonished.
“Oh, ma chérie.” His face was a mask of great concern as he turned to me, but I could see the amusement dancing in his eyes.
Bastard, I thought gloomily.
He leaned closer, touching my forehead lightly. “What is the problem, Dear? A headache?”
Merlinda sighed and shook her head. “Men. She has cramps, Jean. Take her home to rest. She seemed to be in a lot of pain earlier.”
Even though the others didn’t notice, I could tell he wanted to laugh, but he tucked his amusement in.
He cupped my cheek. “Forgive me, My Beauty. I have been unforgivably negligent. Let’s say our goodbyes and go home so you can rest.”
He was holding his phone, so while we said our goodbyes, he tortured me some more. By the time he opened the passenger door for me to settle in the car, I was desperate to cum.
He turned to me with a laugh. “Cramps?”
I glared at him. “One could argue that it is some sort of cramps. In my vagina.”
When he laughed again, I added, “Besides, I wasn’t the one that put the idea of sickness in their heads. I just ran with it.”
He started the car. “Indeed. But here lies the problem. You cheated by involving other people to make me take you home earlier than planned.”
“That was your fault,” I accused indignantly. “I almost spilled my drink when you activated it that time!”
He gave me an unimpressed look and pulled out of the parking lot, starting the 30-minute journey back home.
“Pull your dress up, ” he instructed, and I hurriedly complied, eager to cum.
“Take off your panties.”
Again, I obeyed quickly, sliding them off my thighs to place them in my evening bag.
“Good girl,” he commended before activating the toy. My hands gripped the dashboard as it began to move inside me one more time that night, the pleasure mounting as he increased the intensity and speed.
“Jeeeaan,” I moaned when I felt close to the edge.
He stopped the vibration immediately, and I almost cried out in frustration.
“Damn it, Jean. I need to cum,” I whined.
“Tu n’es pas encore désespéré,” (You’re not desperate yet), he responded unsympathetically.
I knew that phrase because it was one he had told me more than once. But he was wrong. I was desperate and ready to beg for some relief.
“I’m more than desperate,” I informed him, but he ignored me, reactivating the device on a low setting that teased but wasn’t enough to make me cum. Closing my eyes, I imagined his cock inside me and gyrated my hips to enhance my pleasure. My breath came out in low moans. It felt so good, but it would feel better if it was his dick inside me.
“Stop that,” he ordered in a hoarse voice before turning off the device. I opened my eyes to see him palming his dick, which was poking the front of his trousers.
We had stopped for traffic again, so his hungry eyes were on me. Giving him a sultry smirk, I slipped a palm into my dress and popped one boob out, fondling it. “What’s the matter, Jean? Do you need to cum too? Is your own game frustrating you too?”
His eyes flashed with carnal intent, but the moment was broken by the honk of the vehicle behind us prompting us to move along as the light turned green.
Jean snorted self-deprecatingly and drove, telling me to take the toy out of my vag.
When we stopped at another red light, he took it from me and stored it inside his jacket’s inner pocket. There was something very sexy about that, although taking the toy out left me feeling empty.
“Open your legs wider and spread your pussy for me with your fingers. I want to see how wet you are,” he told me, voice still thick with arousal. Ever obedient, I angled myself to his direct line of sight and opened my legs wider, spreading myself to give him a good view of my glistening cunt.
“Fuck, so pretty,” he groaned. “I can’t wait to eat you into oblivion.”
“Jean,” I moaned his name in a plea, my fingers hovering over my pussy, waiting for permission to finger myself into an orgasm.
“No,” he refused. “The next appendage that will touch your pussy will be attached to me. Now, be a good girl and pull your clothes down, will you? We’ll be home soon. Tu peux tenir encore un peu (You can hold on a bit longer).”
I groaned in frustration but complied like the good girl he called me.
We spent the rest of the drive home giving each other heated glances, and as soon as he turned off the engine and we unbuckled our seats, he reached for me and drew me into a carnal kiss that promised a night of hot sex.
At that point, we were both very horny and eager and by the time we got into his living room, my dress was already off and our lips were attached, french-kissing on the sofa.
He was still dressed, and I needed to see him naked as much as I needed to cum, so I began to undress him in between kisses.
We broke the kiss so that he could pull off his jacket and shirt. He pulled off his belt too, but when I reached for his zipper, he stopped me.
“Jean, please. I need to cum,” I begged shamelessly, needing him to get naked and get me off.
“Don’t worry, ma cherie, I’ve got you. You’ve been such a good girl, holding on for this long. You deserve a treat.”
The approval filled me with more arousal, and I moaned in relief when his hands moved forward to squeeze my breasts, letting his thumb and forefinger knead the hardened nubs. He did this for a while, making love to my breasts with just his hands while kissing me.
My moans became louder when he lowered one hand and his fingers found my dripping heat. He started slowly, as though he was getting reacquainted with my pussy, spreading his fingers around my wetness. My moans became whimpers when he increased the pressure and inserted two fingers into me while flicking my hard nub. He started an assault with his fingers, fucking me so expertly that I was moaning and muttering words I didn’t understand myself. I was a little sore from withholding my orgasm for so long, but the pain was delicious coupled with all the other sensations I was feeling.
When he curled his fingers just right inside me to activate the spot that was elusive to so many, I let out a strangled moan, almost coming off the sofa.
The onslaught of sensations was overwhelming, and my long, drawn-out orgasm could not wait any longer. I tried to tell him, but the words couldn’t compete with the pleasurable moans escaping from my lips. Attuned to my moods and feelings in bed as always, he knew how close I was and told me to let go before leaning forward to suck on one of my nipples. The additional sensation tipped me over, and my long-awaited orgasm started as a small ignition of heightened pleasure, gaining rapid momentum before taking me to the ultimate peak in a long-drawn orgasm that vibrated through me with utmost intensity.
Fuck, this man knew how to make my body sing.
