Her hand squeezed mine. I looked over to see her eyes fixed on the screen and stoic face begin to redden. I squeezed her hand back in a way that provided both assurance and approval. My hand was saying it's okay, baby. No one will know.
I've been working on warping her sheltered, vanilla lifestyle since we first met. It soon became obvious that her experience with men was woefully inadequate and unsatisfying. I thought it odd with how beautiful she was. Tall, slender, and a trophy fuck to anyone that had eyes. Turns out that short of masturbation, she hadn't even orgasmed before. Wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am was all she'd gotten. Guys would cum long before her needs came into play. She needed more time and foreplay than anyone before me had offered. As a result, she gravitated to me like a moth to a flame. I was something she hadn't experienced before and came to need - and I was just depraved enough to take advantage of it.
It started with convincing her to remove her bra at a bar we often met at. After much prodding, she finally agreed and came back from the bathroom to show it to me in her purse. Her tits bouncing under her blouse was out of her comfort level, but I could sense that she was excited like never before. I felt excited too in knowing that I was responsible for it. I considered it a triumph of sorts. The first of many to come.
Things soon progressed from there. For starters, she wasn't allowed to wear her bra anymore. When we went dancing, she was to wear short skirts and thigh highs. I even took her to a topless bar and sat at the stage. She was never wholly comfortable with any of it but always complied. And, of course, the sex was through the roof afterward. On my part, it was an incredible turn-on breaking her out of her shell - and a deliciously sexy experience on hers.
I don't know whether she suspected where the increasingly overt activity would lead, but she didn't put up much of a fight each time I suggested something more daring. It was time to play out my particular fantasy.
I've read plenty of stories and seen videos of women that were brought to a porn theater. As often as I've jacked to them, the thought of bringing her to one grew to obsession. She's been accommodating all along, but I knew this idea would meet with more resistance than anything before.
As was usual, she balked. I told her how beautiful she was and how much I enjoyed other men reveling in her sexy outfits. I also reminded her how much she's enjoyed our previous forays into... boundary-pushing. I even admitted how exceptionally turned on I was each time she's complied with chipping away at her demure persona and accepted how beautiful she was. I finally told her how much it would excite me to bring her to such a sexually-charged environment, knowing that there would likely be men jacking to dreams of being with her. Maybe more.
She called me all sorts of names from pervert to asshole, but I was steadfast and persisted. I was unapologetic about wanting to have her experience all those things she's deprived herself of in the past. To let go the goody-two-shoes she's been reared as and take advantage of the fact that I wanted her to make up for the lost time. And that it would turn me on to no end.
She begrudgingly agreed, but think it was that it would turn me on was what had her do so. I think she would do anything to keep the guy that finally provided her with the attention - and orgasm - she'd so long gone without.