The ride to the restaurant had been filled with giggles, leg-stroking and affectionate glances, but Connor had stopped short of utilising the power he held in the form of his phone and the remote-controlled vibrator, which sat snugly in Sinead’s tight and somewhat writhing cunt. She had a warm glow from the exploits of the bedroom and the shower from earlier, but there was also a tension which ran through her at the thought that her wireless pal could be initiated at any time, and she was powerless to do anything about it. Trying to put it at the back of her mind, which was proving to be an impossible task, she looked out of the window of the silver Mercedes taxi to see that they had arrived at a rather plush looking restaurant. The canopied entrance had a red carpet, leading up to gold-framed doors and a concierge to open the door for arriving and departing guests.
“I’d best be on my best behaviour,” thought Sinead, which made the thought of what lay inside her even more thrilling and terrifying. Whilst currently dormant, she knew that Connor had every intention of making her squirm, wriggle and generally impossible to sit still for the entirety of the evening. She also knew it turned him on greatly to be in possession of such power and that only served to turn her on more. She wanted to play the game. She wanted to be the one writhing at his behest. This couple seemed, on the surface, to be just two normal people who were clearly in love. They shared laughs. They challenged each other. They were, in all respects, ‘normal’. However, hidden beneath the surface, the passion between them was electric. So much so, that both were constantly on the edge of being consumed by their animalistic desires; happy to rip the others’ clothes off and make crazy, earth-shattering love with them at any given moment. Conversely, they were so very happy in the mundane, the routine and the day-to-day grind of life with each other that it would be hard to tell that this wanton desire was anywhere to be seen.
On this night, one where the oppressive rain clouds had dissipated to reveal a starry sky free from light pollution, a chilly Sinead knew that those same wanton desires would very much be at the forefront of both of their minds and their actions. Indeed, as the car door was opened by the ever-chivalrous Connor, he couldn’t help but run his hands from where the peachy cheeks of her pert bottom met, down the enticing crevice and giving a firm squeeze to each one. On its own, this would be far from extraordinary, but Connor pressed his index finger just a little firmer than the rest of his open palm, pressing it deep into the crack and feeling the bud of her hole, unrestricted by underwear. This unexpected interaction caused Sinead to jump forwards slightly in surprise.
“Right, this is a posh gaff, so behave, Tracey!” Connor joked in a mock-cockney accent.
“Oh, Gary! This is gonna be fackin’ amaaazin’!” replied Sinead, taking the mockney up a notch whilst they were still out of earshot of the concierge.
Adjusting themselves to be more in keeping with their seemingly upper-class surroundings, the couple strode in rigid fashion towards the concierge, nodding and offering a grateful smile as he heaved open the large door to allow them to enter.
“Good evening, Madam. Sir,” the elderly greeter announced, in a booming voice.
As they walked through the entrance, Connor allowed Sinead to go before him, which offered him the opportunity to begin the evenings’ erotic playtime. As they approached the reception desk - it was the sort of restaurant which had a reception desk - Connor turned the device on, initially at a low level, before returning his phone to his blazer pocket. Sinead, who had arrived at the desk and was smiling at the receptionist, smiled even wider as a low hum and tingling vibration shot through her lower body. Trying in desperation to ignore the wonderful buzz, Sinead stared wildly at the receptionist, unable to break her gaze for fear of falling to the floor and finger-fucking herself into oblivion.
“Good evening,” Connor intervened, “We have a table for two booked for seven-thirty. The name of Buttons.”
“Certainly, Sir, please follow me.” The receptionist turned, beckoned the couple to follow her through a narrow archway, which opened out into a large atrium, filled with the hum of a maelstrom of people enjoying lavish dishes, unnecessarily expensive wines and cackling laughs.
The table they were shown to was right in the heart of the restaurant, surrounded by tables full of people in tuxedos, dinner suits and cocktail gowns. It was going to be hard to hide any sort of pleasure with so many people in such close proximity. As they took their seats, the vibrations increased in their intensity. So much so, the receptionist, who was just pushing the chair in as Sinead sat down, gave a questioning glance to her female patron. Basking in his unbridled power, Connor was overtly grateful to the receptionist, as if to say, “Oh, don’t worry about her!”
In order to maintain this control without having to continually reach inside his jacket pocket, Connor rested his phone on his lap, which was safely out of view having been tucked under the table. Wanting to re-establish his position of authority, Connor reached down and slid his finger across the screen, pushing the device up to full power. Sinead’s eyes closed and her lips pursed, as she struggled not to writhe and grind her hips into her seat. Connor moved his finger up and down rapidly, the device instantly responding and the deep buzzing becoming intermittently more and less audible. Sinead whispered a breathless “Stop, pleeease!” and, with a final flourish of sustained full-power vibrating, Connor closed the app and locked his phone.
“Right, where’s the waiter with the wine list?” Connor queried in a deadpan tone as if nothing had happened. Sinead let out a giggling sigh, fully aware that this was only the beginning of the night, and the forthcoming evening of edging was going to push her to her limits of control. As if listening for his question, a young, smartly groomed waiter appeared bearing two leather-bound menus with ‘WINE’ embossed in gold lettering across the front of them.
“Good evening, Madam, Sir. Welcome to La Nouvelle. My name is Patrick, and I will be looking after you this evening. here are your wine lists; can I get you any water while you peruse the menu?”
“Yes, please. We would like some iced still water please and I would be grateful if you could make sure there is plenty of ice,” Connor said in a stern yet friendly manner.
“Certainly, Sir. I will be back with your water momentarily.” The waiter nodded politely and whisked off through the melee of tables towards a set of double doors which were clearly where the kitchen was located.
Playing the role of direct, borderline misogynistic high-flyer to perfection, Connor spent the evening ordering on behalf of Sinead whenever Patrick returned. In contrast to his outwardly cold demeanour, Connor spent the entire meal running his foot up the inside of Sinead’s smooth, perfect leg. However, having consumed both the starter and the majority of the main course without any further twinges from the love egg, Sinead had been driven insane with frustration. Worried he had forgotten but not wanting to address it directly, Sinead broke her stare from Connor and glanced down to her crotch, almost nodding as if to say, “Aren’t you going to turn our friend on?!” The glances seemingly went unnoticed, which further drove Sinead wild. When they had finished their main course, Sinead had all but resigned herself to the fact that the playing was over for the evening.
Distraught but understanding, Sinead decided to settle for enjoying being on a lovely evening with the man she loved. She was sure there would be more fun when they got back to their room, and she was happy enough to wait until then. Instead, she would laugh and talk the evening away in the hope that raw, passionate sex would be on offer when they returned to the bed and breakfast. They did laugh and talk for another half an hour after the main courses had been cleared, supping a cool, crisp Pinot Grigio which cost far too much money, but this was a special evening with a special man, so she didn’t dwell on the hit their bank account would be taking. During a brief silence, which was not in any way uncomfortable - Sinead loved that Connor acknowledged that there didn’t always have to be chat just for the sake of chat - Connor sat more upright in his seat and caught the eye of the ever-attentive Patrick.
“Could we see the dessert trolley please, Patrick?” Connor asked in a more polite tone than he had used for the preceding two and a half hours.
“Certainly, Sir, I shall send it over immediately,” Patrick replied and again, whisked himself off at an unnecessarily quick pace. He seemed to dash here and there at lightning pace without ever seeming to touch the floor.
“Ready for your fucking dessert, my girl?” Connor muttered under his breath to his beautiful date, whom, based on her wide eyes and the fact she nearly spat out about eight quids worth of wine, he had clearly caught off guard with his enquiry. Before she could even muster a response, he reached down to his lap and pressed his thumb on the home button of his phone, unlocking it before quickly dragging his finger over the screen to start the seemingly forgotten device once again. This time it was Sinead’s turn to sit bolt upright in her seat, as her whole body jolted in surprise, her wine glass clinking against her water glass, which brought her unwanted glances from her fellow diners. Perhaps they thought she was going to give a speech or was overly inebriated. Whatever their thoughts, Sinead just wished they would stop looking so that she could stop worrying that they would see her face distort, her hips writhe and her legs kick out as the pulsing of the vibrator increased and decreased in its intensity.
Her desire for less attention was not helped by the arrival of the dessert trolley, which was driven to their table by a portly man with jet black hair, which was scraped back into a ponytail so tight that his eyelids actually turned up at their edges.
“Good evening! My name is Arturo, can I interest you in any of our desserts this evening,” said the portly man in an overly enthusiastic manner. Sinead’s heart sank momentarily as she knew that Arturo clearly wanted to engage in some pleasantries whilst he served them, and Connor was going to make the interaction as difficult and awkward as possible.
“Good evening, Arturo. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” said Connor. “Would you be able to talk us through all of the wonderful selections you have, please? We always find it so hard to make a choice when it comes to dessert!” he said with a chuckle, clearly intent on elongating this process as much as possible. He simultaneously dragged his finger all over his phone screen, sending the internal device haywire with varying degrees of intensity and depth of vibration. This sent Sinead into a tailspin, forcing an uncontrollable laugh out of her as she rocked back and forth in her chair, seemingly overtaken by her partner’s witty quip, but truly just trying not to get lost in an orgasmic fugue.
As Arturo explained with painful intricacy the details of each sweet dish on display, Connor continued his hedonistic torture, dragging his finger all over the screen in manic fashion. Sinead was desperately trying to stay in control, gripping the rich cotton tablecloth tightly in her white knuckles, a hysterical smile cemented onto her beaming face.
“Hmmm, I’m still not sure. I see you have a cheeseboard there - what cheeses are available and what do you recommend?” Connor asked, intent on keeping Arturo at the table for as long as possible. Sinead was fully aware of what Connor was doing, not least because she knew that Connor hated cheese and would never have any other dessert other than that which contained the most chocolate. These thoughts didn’t linger long in her mind, however, as she felt the dildo dwelling inside her vagina burst into an explosion of blissful, full-powered action. After the previous few minutes of varied and intermittent pulsing, this continued peak intensity was just about all she could manage.
“OH JESUS CHRIST!” bellowed Sinead, slamming her fist down on the table, closing her eyes tightly and throwing her head backwards. The restaurant fell silent, and every diner stared aghast at what was unfolding in the middle of the large, opulent room.
“Er, would you be kind enough to give us a moment, Arturo, please?” Connor pleaded with the shocked waiter. “I think we may need some more water, if you could ask Patrick to bring that over for us, please? Plenty of ice, thanks,” he continued with a strained smile. As Arturo departed, Sinead’s head fell forwards once more, her cheeks flushed and her chest rising and falling rapidly as she tried to catch her breath. Connor, remembering that the app was still open on his phone and the device still on full power, quickly fumbled about in his lap to turn it off and return his phone to his jacket pocket, satisfied that its work had been completed, for this evening at least.
“Are you OK?” he asked her, knowing full well that she was both not fine, and completely better-than-ever fine.
As the other diners began to return to their own evenings, muttering to each other about what they thought had been going on, Sinead finally raised her head to face Connor once again. Her eyes were bleary, she had a half-smile, half-frown, toothy expression and her whole face was now a wild magenta colour. She was still panting heavily and struggled to find any coherent words to respond. Instead, she offered a maniacal chuckle, before snapping back into reality, remembering where she was and the lavish setting in which she had just blasphemed at the top of her lungs. She quickly buried her head in her hands, wanting the ground to open up and swallow her, just as she had swallowed Connors load earlier in the evening.
“Why didn’t you stop?!” she snapped at Connor, only half-seriously. “I am SO wet! I think it’s gone through to the seat! What are we going to do?!”
“Well, we had better pop to the toilet to clean you up then, hadn’t we?!” Connor retorted, a wry smile spreading quickly across his face, accompanied by a look which Sinead knew meant that the evening, and her pleasure, was not quite over just yet.
“What, both of us?!” Sinead exclaimed.
“Follow me, NOW.”
