The moves on stage are artistically beautiful and sexual and have my body thrumming with energy each time Chloe’s gaze shifts to mine. I run my thumb across her thigh, moving my hand fractionally higher with each pass. She moves her attention to my hand and then the surrounding area before she glances at me. “We’re really exposed here,” she whispers. “I think we’d get kicked out.”
I grin as I lean forward and shake off my jacket and drape it across her lap. “If anyone looks, they’ll think I’m just holding your hand,” I tell her as I reach beneath the black cover and gather the layers of her dress. Her eyes are wide with surprise, but her thighs relax as she parts them for me. I run my middle finger along her seam, her soft gasp instantly making me hard. I trace over her again, then lightly rub her clit through her panties, feeling the muscles of her thighs constrict. She rocks her hips forward against my hand. I change the motion, using two fingers to follow across her opening. “I’ve been thinking about doing this all fucking day,” I tell her quietly. Her eyes slide to me as I slip my finger beneath her underwear, drawing circles over her exposed clit. Her heels angle her hips upward, giving me the perfect access to slide across her entrance. Her fingers constrict around mine as I lazily move closer to her core, her teeth catching her lip as she stares at the stage. “You’re so wet for me.”
She gasps again, shifting her hips in a slow pattern as I draw my fingers over her again. Anyone who might glance in our direction would have a difficult time seeing anything, the space is heavily shadowed with the dim lighting, but her expression is so focused with control, I’m determined to challenge her and see if I can make her façade slip.
“Take your panties off,” I whisper.
She looks at me, doubt visible in her stare.
I slip my finger across her clit, making her gasp. “Off.”
She turns to look behind us, then slips her hands beneath my jacket and lifts slightly from her seat before getting her underwear to her knees. I hook my fingers into the fabric, sliding them the rest of the way and freeing them from her shoes. I press the silky fabric to my nose and breathe deeply, smelling her desire for me. I shove them into my pocket before resuming our position, weaving my left hand with hers and sliding my right hand between her thighs.
I place my thumb on her clit, rubbing circles over her as I slide my middle finger lower and slowly inside her. Chloe gasps quietly, her lips parting as she raises her hips a bit higher to meet my touch. I gently thrust my fingers into her, changing the tempo of my thumb as I continue to massage her clit. Her grip tightens, and her thighs begin to tremble. I lessen the pressure, and her gaze swings to mine with a silent protest
“It’s a two-hour show,” I tell her.
She blinks, trying to find a foothold in her lust-drunken state.
“Relax. I’ll get you there again.” I run my fingers through her folds, spreading her wider as I circle her clit with my middle finger as a sign of good faith.
“I’m beginning to think you’re a sadist,” she says.
I grin. “I warned you I was.” I increase my speed and tempo, and with her already being so sensitive, she reacts instantly, her legs spreading even wider as her hips flex again, pressing against my hand. I stop, running my fingers lower, back to her entrance where I slide two fingers inside of her, feeling her hips rock with an invitation.
She closes her eyes, her breaths uneven for several seconds as she works to gain composure.
I lean forward, grazing her ear with my lips. I lick her there, sliding my lips down to where her two earrings are, that I lap at with my tongue. “I want you to lose control,” I whisper.
She looks at me, eyes dark with need. “There are people everywhere.”
“Trust me,” I tell her, kissing her and following the edge of her jaw back to her ear. “Lose yourself to me, Chloe.” I slip my fingers back into her, rubbing her clit with my thumb. She glances at me, a silent plea to let her come as I work her back to the edge of another orgasm.
She bites her lip, and I stop, her shoulders and thighs loosening instantly as her breath falls out in a disappointed rush. She reaches for her glass of champagne, drinking the remains in one drink.
“What do you want?” she asks, her eyes ablaze with annoyance and desire.
“I want to look at your face and know I’m fingering you. I want to see you lose composure.”
She starts to shake her head. “There are so many people here.”
I slide my fingers over her slick opening. “No one can see you. I wouldn’t let someone watch you come.”
Her eyes widen again as she stares out at the hundreds of private suites we can look out upon that can do the same to us. It takes her only a second to realize she can’t see their faces or expressions, only their outlines. “They can’t see you,” I confirm, moving inside of her again. “Only I can see you.”
She relaxes with a deep breath. Then begins to move her hips against my fingers. I reward her with a flick to her clit that has her dropping her head back against her seat. Then she reaches below the jacket with her right hand, grasping my left with her other hand, entwining our fingers as I finger fuck her, moving my thumb back to her clit as she rolls forward onto her toes, tilting her entrance higher.
“There you go, baby,” I tell her, kissing along her slackened jaw as she
