His words had not given me pause to relax as I thought them through while taking my shower in preparation to go out this evening. He had been vague and would not answer my questions concerning our night out. I had followed his instructions and gone to shower when he seemed to become a bit perturbed with me. He had said he would lay out the clothes he wanted me to wear while I was showering.

So what were we to do tonight, would we continue on with our game from the evening before or would he return to the Mark that I knew, the cautious and very quiet person that I had lived with for five years. Or would we continue on with our role play, with my submission to his wants. It had been adventurous for us, that was for sure. And I could feel myself beginning to get excited as I thought of how he had secured my wrists to my thighs and then used his hands on my sex. I couldn't stop him, I twisted and turned but that just opened my legs to his fingers. I enjoyed it and told him so, that resulted in me being tied spread eagled and blindfolded. And I even enjoyed that.

He had spoke to me while I laid spread for him, he had told me things that normally I would not have accepted, asking me questions about how I felt with my position, asking me if he could take pictures. I had not answered to the last question but I had heard the shutter sound made by our digital camera when the shutter button was pushed. I still had not seen any of the pictures he had taken or know if he had actually taken any pictures at all.

I finished my shower and exited the stall wrapping the long white bathrobe around me to dry off with. My makeup was set up on the vanity and I sat to apply it. What was I to wear tonight? I needed to know so I could match my colors so I stood and walked to the door, opened it and saw the clothes laid out on the bed. Wow, what were we doing this evening?

A very old and unused skirt that I had forgotten about was the first thing that caught my eye. It had been bought on a whim while in Spain during my college years. I knew it would still fit but I wondered if it would extend below my ass cheeks. And a loose fitting peach shirt that I never had the gall to wear outside the house. When I put it on I could see my dark areola, so I had never had the guts to go outside the front door when I had it on.

A matching bra and g-string that I did not recognize was also laid out. The g-string had less than 2 square inches of cloth to it I thought as I picked it up and examined it. The color matched my shirt at least so the bra should be about invisible under the shirt.

I returned to the bath and finished my makeup, brushed my teeth and my hair and then got dressed. I was surprised that the skirt actually did cover my butt cheeks, just barely. The bra was an odd one though, the cups did not fully cover my areola, it was more like a shelf to hold my tits high. I looked in the mirror when I was finished and the relection was different from what I would normally see. My red hair fell onto my shoulders and looked great against the color of the shirt, my boobs were high and pushed outward and inward making them appear larger than what I thought I had. I was still uncomfortable with the length of the skirt and the visibility of my nipples. The shoes that I had found were new and a bit higher than I had ever worn as well.

I left the bedroom and walked down the stairs. Mark was waiting in a chair sipping on a drink, a Jack and coke I was sure. A glass of red wine was poured and on the table across the room from where he sat. I walked seductively to the table and picked up the glass, saying thank you as I took a sip.

Mark rose and approached me slowly, something sinister in his smile.

"I like the look," he stated matter-of-factly as he traveled up and down my body with his eyes. I could feel them boring into my visible nipples and spreading my thighs with his visual-mental image.

"We'll be leaving in ten minutes, I have reservations at Four Seasons at eight-thirty."

Well, this was a surprise. Now I began to get nervous. He was telling me we were going out with me dressed as I was? Yeah, I guess he was. And to the Four Seasons? The restaurant was one that required reservations weeks in advance. I had been there only once prior and that was for our tenth anniversary two years ago.

"Umm," I began nervously," am I, umm, are we going, umm, like we are now?" I asked nervously as he returned to his seat.

Mark turned and stared at me. He again ran his eyes up and down my body. "I don't see anything wrong with how we're dressed, I have a suit and tie on and you are not wearing jeans."

Well, he was right about that but I wondered how I would be accepted in such an establishment. I continued to sip my wine and the glass was empty much faster than I would normally empty a glass of wine. I went to the bar and refilled my glass asking if he also needed a refill.

"No, I'm driving, I need to drink slowly."

Wow, my mind was reeling with thoughts of my being exposed in the clothing I was wearing and wondering if I could go through with it. I guess I could say that Mark was continuing on with our role play from the night before.

Five minutes later Mark stood and said "Ready?"

I didn't answer, just started heading for the door.

We lived in a high rise in Boston on the 34th floor. I opened the door and stepped out into the corridor and turned to head for the elevator. 'I hope no one is in the hall,' I thought to myself as I got use to walking in the high heels and feeling the cool air swishing by so high on my naked thighs. Mark was right behind me and spoke no words as we proceeded to and waited for the elevator. I held my hands clasped together in front of me until the "ding" announced the arrival of the elevator.

As the door closed Mark moved immediately in front of me, making me tilt my head back to look up at his face. "You're beautiful, don't worry what others will think, I am the only one that matters." With that I felt his hands on my nipples, his fingers softly stroking them through the thin fabric. He slid one hand down and rubbed my stomach in circled that went lower and lower, until they were on my mons. "Do for me what I ask tonight, you'll enjoy it I promise."

Huh? I'll enjoy it? Now I was a bit confused, what was he going to ask of me tonight? I was still in the role we had begun last night, as I believed he wanted me to be, so I did not ask any questions.

His was the dominant role, mine submissive. He had told me of his wish to play the game the weekend before and I had agreed to try it. Now I found myself enjoying it, found myself wondering what he would have me do, or what he would do to me, while in public at such a respectable restaurant.

We took a cab from our building, the seat a bit uncomfortable as my knees were much higher than normal due to the heels and Marks hand rested on my upper thigh. I could feel just a minute amount of pressure from his fingers, as if he was telling me that he was the boss, that he held the key to pull these thighs apart and that he could do it if he wanted to.

My mind was running one hundred miles per hour. I realized that it was because of the extended sex play we had had the evening, and this morning, before. I had enjoyed being powerless, being used to a certain degree, although it had been rather tame compared to some things I had read.

I had never thought I would enjoy this.., this..., this situation. Like most women, at times I did fantasize of being forced, of being completely taken by a man. I was well read and had come across many Harlequin Romances in which the woman was always reluctant until she felt the mans' hardness, or so it goes in those type of books. But I never saw myself acting out in that way. I was a career lawyer, someone who spoke forcefully and pressured others to do as the law stated. I was a District Attorney for Norfolk County. I had to be in control to do my job, to put bad guys behind bars. But now I was bending to the will of my husband, willing to do whatever he asked of me. Could I do whatever he asked of me? Well, it's possible that I may find out this very evening.

As we pulled up to the front of the restaurant, a doorman approached and opened my door. I tried my best but I blushed as I knew that this man did get to glimpse under the hem of my short skirt as I turned to exit the back seat of the cab. I took a few steps toward the door and stopped, waiting for Mark to pay the cab fare and join me.

He was quickly beside me, guiding me with his hand on my upper arm, again the slight pressure, toward the door and the social nightmare that kept going through my head. The Maitre'd spoke to Mark, calling him by his name, and showed us quickly to the booth that had been reserved for us. This puzzled me, how did he know my husbands name?

We were brought a bottle of champagne before we could even speak to each other. The Steward poured a glass for Mark and then waited until he received approval to fill my glass. I lifted the glass gingerly, still feeling the affects of the three glasses of wine I had been able to finish in the short time we waited before leaving the apartment.

"To a different way of living?" Mark proposed, lifting his glass toward me in a toast.

I wasn't sure how to take this toast but it was interesting.

Were we moving into a new lifestyle? And what was that lifestyle exactly? Would we continue on in this role play or would we change up at times?

The waiter approached and Mark ordered roasted turkey for both of us.

He leaned in to me and began "I enjoyed last night, I enjoyed having you as I wanted you, I enjoyed looking at you and running my fingers over and into you,"..

'Wow, let me drink my champagne' I thought as I lifted the glass to my lips.

.."and I really enjoyed how you reacted, how you moved under my hands and under my body as we progressed."

I gulped quickly and looked into his face. He was serious. Had I been that uninhibited and not known it?

"It was the first time that I could say that you enjoyed our lovemaking."

Now that was a shock! I had always enjoyed our time together, our 'tromps in the hay' as he would call them.

"I want to try to go just a little further, I think that you are willing and therefore I set up this evening to see if it is a good road for us to follow." he spoke softly with his mouth close to my ear. "If you want to stop at any time, just tell me 'you have a case' and we will head home."

He was setting up the entire evening for me, allowing me an out if I really wanted one. I now remember him saying that he didn't think I'd go along with what he would like to do, he had said it last weekend when we had discussed the little game. I had told him that I was adventurous enough to go along with anything he wanted to do, and now I would have to live up to those words.

I felt his hand on my thigh again, this time more pressure and he was pulling my knee apart slightly and slowly, as if he was hesitant. I slid my lower leg over my knee and felt the cool air rushing up my thighs to the apex of my legs, to the small triangle of cloth that I was wearing under my mini-skirt. My ankle was now on my knee, my legs spread as far as they would go without blatantly holding my knees apart.

I realized I had been staring at Mark's face and turned to look out across the restaurant. The tables and booths were full with couples and friends and I realized that my sex wa completely exposed to anyone who would look this way and glance under the table. Maybe the tablecloth would protect me, or that was my hope.

The waiter returned with our dinner and I went to move my legs together and sit up to receive my plate when I felt Mark's strong hands squeeze my thigh and force me to remain as I was. The waiter moved to the side of the table and placed the plate in front of me. I know that he could see into my lap, he could see that I was spread open and that I was allowing Mark to feel my thigh, to put his hands so near my crotch that he could feel the heat of my excitement. I could feel myself blush, my cheeks redden, my neck redden. I looked down and was taken by complete surprise to see my nipples extended and pushing against the thin fabric of my shirt, telling the entire world that I was sexually aroused.

The waiter took his time and although I could not look him in the face to verify it but I knew that he was staring down at my legs and Mark's hand. He did not say anything, thank God, but I know that he could see what was happening.

Mark took his hand away but warned me, "Keep your ankle on your knee, don't move it." I sat up toward the table, a bit uncomfortable with my legs as they were, and we ate our dinner while making small talk. The waiter, to me, was overly attentive to us, returning to our table numerous times to verify that everything was acceptable. I also noticed that the wine steward also paid us more attention than other tables around us.

When finished, Mark immediately sat back and moved his table to my leg, this time even closer to my crotch. I jumped when he first touched me, not expecting to feel his fingers on me. I did notice though that his touch was exciting.

Mark ordered us after dinner drinks and I am sure that my jaw dropped when the wait staff came over and removed the tablecloth before serving us our drinks. I now no longer had the illusion of being covered from the eyes of those around us. Mark smiled down at me and then I jumped noticeably as his fingers slid along my gash, pushing the thin cloth triangle between my outer lips. My hips rolled forward voluntarily as he pushed against my clitoris and slid upward further to my lower belly.

I immediately grabbed my drink and put it to my lips while gazing around the room. My eyes found one other set of eyes staring directly under our table, watching what was going on between my legs. He was a thirty-ish man, not bad looking and sitting alone at a table directly n front of us.

"Mark, people are...."

He cut me off by again running his fingers from my belly down, over my clit (again receiving an involuntary response from my body), and over my gash. "You're wet, you like this, don't you?" he asked.

"Ah, well, ah, I guess, yes, it does feel good." My voice was so quiet I wondered if he could hear me.

I could feel my excitement building as he continued to stroke me slowly and continuously as we drank our Brandy and tried to make small talk. I was not really capable of following the conversation as each time his finger slid over my engorged clit I would have to cover the involuntary movements of my hips.

"We will leave after you come."

What, was he crazy, come in the middle of a restaurant? Oh my God, this was moving fast. He wanted me to let go in the middle of a public restaurant and allow myself to enjoy a sexual release.

Then I jumped again as his fingers slid under the little triangle and sloshed freely in my juices. I know that I was now red and embarrassed and I looked back at my admirer who was still watching the free show, his hand now below the tablecloth that covered his actions. I could imagine he was rubbing his cock. I wondered if he had it out or was rubbing through his pants.

I could feel the tension building in my lower abdomen, the telltale tension of an orgasm building. I allowed myself to relax and closed my eyes, imagining that the entire restaurant was watching. I wanted them to watch, yes, that was the thrill. I kept my eyes closed and laid back against the seat, giving Mark freedom to stroke my sex as he wished.

I moved my hand to his and guided him to my clit. 'Yes, yes, oh, that feels so good,' I thought. I helped him move his finger up to put pressure directly on the swollen button. 'Oh, God, yes, rub me, harder,' was in my head and I wanted to say it out loud so much.

Then it was there, my eyes flew open and my abdomen began the rhythmic rock and roll of a sexual release. My mouth was open and I could not stifle the gasp that escaped my throat as I let it go. I held Mark's hand tightly between my now outstretched legs, ensuring he would not move his fingers from my hard clit.

When I realized that the waiter and the wine steward were both standing right beside me watching me in my orgasmic spasm I sat straight up and realized that my feet were both on the floor. I had moved my ankle from my knee to spread myself out as far as possible so I could enjoy the release of my juices from deep within my womb. I looked down and realized that my skirt was now up around my waist, my entire sex exposed not only to the restaurant staff but to the entire restaurant.

I looked up quickly and saw that my performance had been witnessed by many diners who were seated around us. The men were smiling, most of the women were actually laughing or were looking on in disgust. I again felt the blush running up my chest to my cheeks.

"I guess we can go now, huh?" Mark remarked to me. "Could we have the check please?" he inquired of the waiter.

"On the house , sir."

As I stood I was not able to pull my skirt down quick enough to hide myself. My heavily haired bush was visible to the room for a second before I could get it covered, the tiny g-string in tatters between my thighs.

I strode as quickly as Mark would allow me to toward the doors, all eyes staring openly at the wanton bitch who had just given them a show that would probably be in the Boston Globe in the morning. Mark controlled me again with his hand on my upper arm, making sure that I was paraded around for all to see.

Once in a taxi and on our way back to our apartment Mark asked if I was still up to sex.

"Up to it, we might not make it up in the elevator before I want you inside me. I am dripping wet thinking about what you just did to me."

He laughed and slid his hand between my knees which fell open willingly to allow his fingers to stroke my wet thighs and gash for the entire ride to our building.

Then he commented, "Maybe you'd like to see some pictures that I found on the Internet last night."