From pdmm@interlog.com Sat Mar 08 23:15:24 1997
Command Performance
by P.D. Michael   

   She needed confidence. Everyone said so. Even her mother. 
   Alone with him she was incredible. Passionate, beautiful, sexual in the
deepest meaning of the word. In public her heart beat a little harder. Her
lips felt dry. The feeling that others were always looking never left her.
And they were. 
   Tall and gorgeous she attracted the attention of both men and women.
Some with envy. Some with lust. All with admiration. Her long, raven hair
framed an exceptional face. Pale blue eyes flicked nervously from behind
shyly demurring lashes. Full lips, compulsively moistened by the tip of
her tiny pink tongue, would part briefly to show sparkling white teeth. A
long graceful neck swooped down to an acre of creamy skin. 
      Her dress was low in the top. Low enough to flirt with the valley of
her breasts. Unease with the amount of cleavage she was showing was
apparent by the way her hand played endlessly with her necklace.
Similarly, she seemed disquieted by the shortness of her skirt. Long,
beautiful, tanned legs, bare from ankle to mid thigh, emphasized the
brevity of the garment.  The soft, loose fitting material moved around as
she walked. It jostled with every step, ebbing and flowing, clinging
between her thighs. Covering, yet never  ruling out the possibility of
revealing more.  More than she intended. But not more than Robert had
planned.
   In the hallway, on the way to the washrooms he stopped her with a hand
on her arm. ³Your panties darling. Pull them off,² he smiled. 
   She could hear herself swallow and draw her breath. It was hardly a
surprise. He had told her earlier. Still the reality of it actually being
time sent a shiver through her stomach. 
   ³Take them off Eleanor,² he demanded softly, holding out his hand.
   She scanned the hallway and found it empty. Quickly her trembling hands
lowered the flimsy underwear and she stepped out of them. She pressed the
panties into Robertıs palm just as a fortyish, bald man entered the
passage way. Certain that he hadnıt seen, she leaned back against the wall
waiting for him to pass. Silently she reassured herself. He hadnıt seen.
He couldnıt have.  Her face felt very warm. A strange feeling crept
through her belly and settled between her legs. She felt incredibly
vulnerable. Her skirt was so short. It was scary in a delicious sort of
way.
   The man was only a few feet away when Robert dropped the panties on the
floor near her feet. Not realizing what they were at first, the man
stooped and picked them up. A wide, knowing smile creased his face as he
held them out to her. ³Are these yours maıam?² he chortled, seeing her
distress. 
   Robert never took his eyes from her face. He was enjoying her
embarrassment immensely. When she didnıt answer he spoke for her, taking
the panties from the man and thanking him. 
   Eleanorıs legs felt weak. He lead her into the lounge and they slid
into a corner booth. 
   A few feet away sat a middle aged woman with her back to them. The
empty chair across from her  faced directly at Robert and Eleanor. Within
a few minutes, that seat was filled by the chubby little man from the
hallway. He spotted them immediately and put his hand over his mouth while
he whispered to his companion. She, trying to be inconspicuous, stole a
glance over her shoulder and then leaned in to whisper her own thoughts. 
   He gawked at Eleanor with an open hunger. Each time she raised her head
he was looking, peering where her neckline dipped, staring beneath the
table where Robertıs hand caressed her thigh. 
   Eleanor watched them gossiping back and forth. She saw the woman subtly
edge her chair around so that she could look without craning her neck. An
envious lust beamed from the man. But facing the woman was worse. She had
a judgmental look of disdainful superiority that made Eleanor very
uncomfortable. 
   Robertıs other hand had moved in behind her, sliding her forward on the
bench. He held her skirt at the back so that it moved higher on her
thighs. She stiffened. Her legs clamped shut and her hand went
instinctively to her lap. She felt the leather seat like a cool kiss of on
her most private part. 
   Robertıs touch  skimmed across her belly  sending fingers of sensation
rippling through. His lips  brushed her neck and he whispered for her to
take her hand away.  ³Weıre going to let them see your cunt.² he casually
announced. An almost imperceptible moan escaped her lips and she nodded
faintly. The lewdness of what they were doing, at once, shamed and
enflamed her. Once before Robert had allowed her to be seen when they were
making love. Later, when he told her, he had laughed at her tears and
called her childish. He often made her relive what they had done, stopping
frequently to torture her with questions on how much she thought the
onlooker would had seen. His meticulous recital of the event always flamed
Eleanorıs cheeks with humiliation, and started a disconcerting wetness at
her core. Now those same sensations ricocheted riotously through her
loins. 
   Her glance flicked to the other table where both sets of eyes were
slaves to Robertıs hand. Heıd moved the skirt well up out of the way. A
two-inch wedge of neatly trimmed curls stood out boldly against the ivory
satin of her skin. Abruptly, it stopped where her belly  began to narrow.
They had not yet seen that she was freshly shaven from there down. Not
even a fringe of pubic hair remained to shield her from their covetous
eyes. ŒA big cunt, Robert had chided her earlier, Œbut tight ...and wet as
a whoreıs dream.ı
   The two of them were looking at her. The woman, red blotches on her
cheeks, hands folded  primly in her lap,  could not look away. Smiling.
Waiting. Not to be denied. Again the feeling. Like electricity  circling
her nipples, stiffening the tiny hairs on her belly and sending current to
her mound. The hiss of Robertıs breath, insistent, urging her compliance.
ŒNow. Show them now.ı Slowly, Eleanorıs legs drifted apart. His hand
pressured her forward to the very edge of the bench. It was wet where her
passion had leaked onto the smooth leather. Her fingers stretched onto her
thighs covering, then framing, the denuded double lips. Robert whispered
again. She picked up her cocktail napkin from the table and pressed it to
the moisture of her sex. She handed it to Robert who inhaled deeply,
reveling in her scent before flipping it onto the other table. They took
turns breathing in her smell, mesmerized by the rapid movement of
Eleanorıs self-indulgent fingers. She came quickly, trembling noticeably,
biting her lip and whimpering softly. Robert guided her still damp fingers
to her mouth and the couple smiled in awe as she licked her essence from
them. 
   Disappointed now that it was over, the watchers saw Robert leave enough
currency on the table to cover his bill and a generous tip. Not knowing
what to say, they smiled awkwardly when Eleanor, tugging demurely at the
hem of her dress, shyly squeezed past. She glanced back anxiously,
impatient to leave, but Robert had paused at their table. She turned her
face away when she saw her panties pass into the smiling womanıs hand.
From just beyond the doors, the anonymity of the street beckoned
enticingly. ŒEleanor. Eleanor Boulton,ı he was saying to them.

    -30 -

   
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