A Quiet Day

It was a quiet day, which ended in the worst kind of way. Nothing at all like she expected, but then she had stopped expecting much in the way of her life. It was the same drudgery day in and day out. Get up, eat breakfast, work, eat dinner, read or knit, go to bed. What a life. What a boring, boring, life.

She talked to strangers online, hoping something would change, but nothing ever did. She was tired of the same old thing every day.

She didn’t know why she did it. Well, that wasn’t exactly true. She did it because she was tired of the nothingness inside.

The days seemed to grow quieter and quieter as it wore on. It worked itself underneath her skin, making her itch with need. She wanted to feel some excitement.

She got in her car and drove to the mall. Shopping wasn’t exactly exciting, but she meandered through the shops being guided by nothing particular, just going wherever her feet took her. Looking at whatever caught her eye.

She walked from shop to shop, sometimes clothing, sometimes shoes, sometimes lingerie, sometimes music, just anywhere. There was no rhyme or reason to where she went. She bought on a whim buying things without forethought or care for the cost or whether she would actually use the items purchased.

At home she dumped out all her purchases and organized them on her bed. Whatever her subconscious had been thinking as it drove her to make the purchases, it obviously had something in mind. Looking at her bed, there wasn’t a single purchase that didn’t belong all together in one ensemble.

She put on the CD she bought. It was a collection of music that surprisingly put her in the proper frame of mind for tonight. She stepped into the shower and began her preparations. All the things a woman would do as she prepared for a date. She had no date but that didn’t matter. Tonight would be for her.

She shampooed her hair. Then shaved. She took particular care shaving all the hair from her legs, under her arms, and specifically between her legs where she left not a single hair. She had never completely shaved off her hair before, there between her thighs, but tonight she did. It made her feel particularly naughty.

After her shower she rubbed her lightly scented lotion into her skin, all over her body. No spot was missed.

She dried her hair, leaving it long and straight hanging to her shoulders. Her blonde hair having natural highlights would be an excellent contrast to what she would be wearing.

She began to put on the purchases from her day. Her hosiery was first. This had been a rather special purchase. The stockings were sheer black and held up about mid-thigh by a ribbon that was a bit elastic to help it remain snug upon her thighs. The ribbon was a deep blue-blood red. Her shoes were next, a solid satin black, not too high that she couldn’t walk comfortably in heels, but high enough to still look like fuck-me shoes. She had never owned a pair of fuck-me shoes, and these were perfect, not a shiny satin but a matte satin, with tiny dark red accent strips just above the tip of each heel. Bright enough to draw the eye, and in her case, those eyes would roam down what she thought was her best feature. Her long legs.

The next item she put on was the first part to her dress. It was a black sheer sheath which hugged her breasts then shimmered as it flowed around her body. It was so light and sheer it was almost like wearing nothing at all. Looking in the mirror, she liked what she saw so far. The sheath had spaghetti straps, the neckline dipping down to just where her cleavage began. The back dipped down between her shoulder blades, both in a gentle curve. The hemline dropped down to just above her knees.

The second part of the dress was its outer shell. It was a dark blue-black red, so dark it was almost black. The material was a fine velvet, so soft to the touch, her fingers couldn’t stop caressing it when she had discovered it in the store. This was the part that had most fascinated her when she tried the dress on in the store. She wondered if she would even dare to wear it in public.

The shell was sleeveless, it’s straps at the top of the shoulders only about an inch wide which gradually became wider as it formed the rest of her dress. The shell was fastened in only two places. Hidden inside on the right hip was a snap that held the left side tucked perfectly under the right side. On the outside a decorative snap in black shaped like a dagger on her left hip held the right side in place which overlapped to the left. The neckline dipped so low as to almost expose her breasts where the left and right sides of the sheath crossed over. It essentially was a wrap that hung to just mid-thigh with slits that ran up both sides of her thighs for about six inches. The sheer undergarment was the only thing keeping anyone from seeing bare skin. She wore no underwear and no bra and none of the clear support items they had these days to give women’s breasts unnatural support. All it would take was two quick pulls against the snaps for the shell to fall open exposing her naked body beneath the shear undergarment.

She put on very little makeup. Only enough to darken her eyelashes and a splash of lip gloss. As much as she was dressed up she preferred to appear as natural as possible. If people didn’t like her natural body then it was better to know up front than to garnish her body with all the froufrou that gave it a look of curves and pertness that didn’t really exist, even in the most toned of individuals.

When she had first looked at the ensemble she had thought she would end up looking like a hooker, but once she had it all together along with her minimalized makeup and hairstyle, she realized it looked rather high end sheik. Especially when she paired it with her simple black beaded choker and a matching bracelet.

Throughout her preparations she thought about where she would go. She hadn’t eaten any dinner yet and knew she better do so or any alcohol she consumed would go straight to her head.

She picked a Greek restaurant that wasn’t low end, in fact it was one that somehow catered to mid-suburbia and higher end clients that were out for an evening on the town. They did this by having two separate sections of the restaurant. With only a small clutch for a purse, she entered the restaurant. She was seated in the section for those having an evening out, at a table that would sit two, that was positioned in a quiet corner where she could view the rest of the room.

From the moment she had entered the restaurant she had felt male eyes gravitating towards her, following her as she walked between the tables following the Maître de. Upon sitting, she asked the Maître de, if he recommended anything since she had never been to the restaurant before. He suggested a couple of different items on the menu as he gave her an appreciative eye.

“May I say? You look rather stunning, that dress is quite remarkable. The men here can’t seem to take their eyes off of you.”

She smiled at him and said, “Thank you.” As she looked slowly around the room, she noticed several men accompanied by ladies looking her way. The ladies with them didn’t appear to be very happy. There were a few men, unaccompanied or in the company of other men. Some were looking her way while others were busy with their male friends which was interesting to note. She couldn’t help wonder if they were gay, not that she thought she would turn every male head but she had to admit when she had looked at herself in the mirror before leaving the apartment, she had never looked better.

After the Maître de left her alone, she turned slightly in her chair so her left shoulder and part of her back was resting against the wall. This turned her legs slightly towards the open area of the restaurant, then she slowly crossed them at the knee. She noticed a hint of the ribbons at the top of her stockings peeked out between the slit of her dress barely viewable through the shear undergarment.

One table containing two men, caught her eye. Both men were looking intently at her. It took the waitress two tries to get her attention before she realized she was there. She ordered her meal, and a glass of wine which she asked the waitress to bring immediately while she waited for her meal.

She returned to perusing the room, checking out the two men at the table. They appeared in discussion but she noticed they seemed to keep an eye on her. She was shocked by the strong vibrations she felt emanating from them. It was as though they had decided to lay claim to her and it was just a matter of time before they did so.

She watched as one of them called over the Maître de and spoke with him. As they spoke, the Maître de, looked in her direction, as well as the two pair of eyes at the table. He nodded his head as he spoke to the two men and then walked towards her table.

“The two gentlemen would like to buy you dinner and wondered if you would like to join them.”

She thought for a moment before answering. “Tell them thank you for the offer but no. I’ll pay for my own dinner.”

“Very well, Madam.” He returned to their table. They exchanged a few more words before the Maître de returned to her table.

“They said they respect your wishes but hoped you would join them for dinner anyway.”

She thought about it. They were both ruggedly handsome men. Mouth wateringly handsome in fact. As tempting as it was to join them, she made her decision, “Tell them thank you again. But my answer is still no.”

“Madam, may I say something?”

“Yes, of course.”

“These men. I know them. They are good men. They would treat you with the utmost respect. They would not be like some of the other men here, who would expect far more than you were willing to give.”

“What is your name?”

“Pierre.”

“Pierre, how strange, a French man in a Greek restaurant.” She saw him smile at her remark but said nothing. “I appreciate you looking out for me Pierre. Tonight is a night I need for myself, something I need to do for me. Do you understand?”

“I think I do Madam. I will tell the men.”

“Thank you.” She watched as he returned to the men at their table. The conversation was brief but apparently Pierre was able to convince them of her sincerity to remain alone. It however did not stop them from keeping their eye on her, and it also didn’t stop the powerful energy she felt from their table. Somehow she knew they hadn’t given up.

Her meal was a simple affair of a Greek salad with skewered lamb and rice. Just enough to give her sustenance without being too filling. She noticed the men had also finished and were paying their bill. They looked her way and nodded to her as they got up and left the restaurant. She left only a few moments later.

Her next stop was a club a friend had recommended. It was a higher end club which her friend said had very good security. Security was stationed throughout the club, with a few who constantly strolled through the crowds. Their purpose was to not only ensure drugs were not sold on the premises but also to ensure the women were safe within the club. The owner knew if women felt safe, they would return and bring their friends. Women frequenting the club meant men would not be far away, married or single. In any case, it all meant more business, more money in the owner’s pocket so he had no problem spending extra on security.

From the moment she stepped into the club, she wasn’t short on dance partners. Some were pathetic dancers and all they wanted to do was rub their stiffening cocks up against her and get a feel of her ass or hope to get a look at her tits when she danced and they bobbed and swayed with her movements. There were a few though that were good dancers and those few had made the evening out enjoyable, even exciting. She could feel them getting hard against her as they slow danced and she allowed her imagination to have full reign.

Dancing for her was like foreplay. Give her a good dancer, one who could lead, pull her in close, hold her with a firm hand without groping, without trying to pin her to his body and grind against her. Someone who let her move and sway against him as they danced around the dance floor and her nipples would pucker. She would feel her thighs getting wet from her juices flowing. She could imagine what it would be like fucking them, and sometimes she let herself imagine him taking her there on the dance floor for everyone to watch.

That is until she saw the two men from the restaurant. They stood at the edge of the dance floor watching her. They knew she was aroused. She was surprised how excited that made her feel. Them watching her, knowing. Knowing in her mind she was fucking the man she was dancing with.

It was late, she had been at the club for a couple hours already. Her body was vibrating with her arousal having danced with several men throughout the night, slowly weeding out the gropers, the bad dancers, so now only a few of the good dancers remained which she took turns dancing with, while the two men watched.

The man she danced with now. He was good. His body moved like a dream. They fit together like a hand and glove. Her breasts lightly pressed against his chest. Her nipples feeling the friction as they swayed to the music. His left hand clasping her right hand loosely while his right hand rested firmly against her lower back guiding her around the dance floor. Her hips sliding against his hard cock with every step. His cheek resting against her temple, feeling his warm breath upon her skin. He leaned in closer to her ear and spoke.

“I could dance with you all night. How about we take this somewhere else?”

She thought about what it was she wanted tonight. This was her night. Her night for excitement, for nothing else but excitement. To chase away the boredom for just one night. And yes to feel sexy. She had done all of that, but now she was so aroused, she didn’t want to go home to an empty apartment and her well used hands and toys.

So she made her decision, “all right.”

Her dance partner leaned back and looked at her smiling. In his eyes, she saw something darker that sent a shiver through her body. He backed away, kept clasp of her hand, and headed off the dance floor, taking her right past the two men who had been watching her all evening.

They watched her still. Their eyes capturing her eyes. Her head turned still looking at them as her dance partner continued towards the door. Her heart was beating like a locomotive in her chest and she wondered fleetingly what she was doing with this man instead of the two men who had been watching over her all night. Two men the Maître de had promised her were safe.

But she didn’t want safe. She wanted exciting. She wanted dangerous. She wanted something she had never had before and probably never would again. She wanted for one time in her life to take a risk, a dangerous and compelling risk.

She had no idea where this guy was taking her. She waited while he unlocked the car door and helped her in. It was an expensive sports car. Bright and flashy.

She sat quietly while he drove away and took what appeared to be a meandering drive through a residential area before pulling into the garage of a small house in a suburbia neighborhood.

Somehow it didn’t mesh with the sports car, but she wasn’t thinking about that, she was thinking about the hand he had on her leg as he drove the car, only removing it when he had to shift gears. A hand that slid up and down her thigh, working underneath the material of her dress to tease her skin just above the ribbons of her stockings through the sheer undergarment. All the while, keeping her arousal sharp and on edge.

He closed the garage door and led her into the house. It was dark and quiet. Just as they entered the house, he turned her around and pulled her into his arms.

“You dance divinely. I hope you fuck just as good.” His voice becoming darker as he shoved her up against the wall covering her mouth with his hard mouth. All softness disappeared. All gentleness vanished. He pulled her hands behind her as he continued to bite and nip at her mouth demanding she open. His body pressed hard against her, pinning her shoulders against the wall. He grasped both her wrists in one hand, holding them tightly, hurting her.

“Stop, you are hurting me!”

He paid her no mind, reaching with his free hand onto the shelf above her head, she heard the clink of metal, then the snap of handcuffs being closed tightly around her wrists. He pulled her into the living room. Turning her around with her back against his chest, he shoved her up against the back of the sofa, pushing her head down towards the cushions, causing her hips to rise up and her feet to come off the floor.

“Let me go!”

“You aren’t going anywhere, sweetheart. You are going to get what you have been asking for all night.”

She could feel his hand pushing her dress up over her hips.

“God, I knew you weren’t wearing any panties underneath this dress. What a slut.” His hand rubbed over her bare ass, then pushed between her thighs.

“And God! You are soaking wet! You’ve been wanting this all night. Thinking about fucking all those guys you were dancing with, weren’t you?”

She moaned and wiggled, trying to get away from his probing fingers.

“Answer me! You were thinking about fucking all those guys you were dancing with, weren’t you!” His other hand buried into her hair grasping it in his fist, and yanked, pulling her head back, making her back arch. “Answer me, damn it.”

“Yes.” She moaned.

He held onto her hair, while pulling his hand out from between her thighs. She heard the sound of a zipper being unzipped, then the sound of his pants hitting the floor.

Feeling the head of his cock pressing between her thighs, she yelled at him to stop, that she didn’t want to do this anymore. She struggled and fought against him, dislodging him several times before he could thrust into her. He yanked her hair, and pinned her harder over the sofa.

“Be still bitch! You aren’t going anywhere.”

Just about the time she was certain he would finally thrust his cock inside of her, she heard a loud crash.

“What the fuck?” he bellowed as he was yanked away from her body.

She couldn’t move to see what was happening. All she could do was hear what sounded like flesh hitting hard against flesh. While a pair of gentle hands smoothed her dress down over her hips. The sounds stopped.

“Here I have the key,” a male voice spoke.

The pair of gentle hands grasped the handcuffs and worked to unlock them. When she was free they lifted her and set her feet on the floor holding onto her until he was sure she wouldn’t stumble and fall.

She shook her hair out of her eyes and looked up. It was the two men who had been watching her all night. What were they doing here? How had they found her?

“Are you okay,” one of them asked?

She nodded her head, too afraid to try and talk. It felt like a rock was lodged in her throat and she felt so stupid.

“You’re safe now. We’ll take you home. Unless you want to press charges.”

She looked over at the man who had tried to rape her. He was a pulverized mess and not just his face. She didn’t particularly want to press charges but she wasn’t sure what she should do. From the mess she saw on the floor she knew it was possible these two men could end up in jail for what they had done to the man who had tried to rape her. She didn’t know what to do. She didn’t want them in trouble for saving her.

“Don’t worry about him. If you don’t press charges we’ll make sure he can’t do this to another woman.”

She didn’t want to know what they meant. She just wanted out of there and knowing he wouldn’t be able to hurt another woman relieved her of feeling like she needed to press charges.

Clearing the lump out of her throat, barely getting the words out, she told them, “I.. I just want to go home.”

They took her out of the house, and put her in their truck sitting her between them in the front seat. She gave them her address.

On the way home she couldn’t stop the tears anymore and collapsed in the front seat sobbing. The man not driving, pulled her into his arms and just held her. Rubbing his hand down her hair and down her back in a soothing caress. Though her sobbing quieted, he didn’t let go of her until they reached her apartment. And even then he still didn’t completely let go.

They took her home, escorting her inside her apartment. It didn’t take much to find her bedroom, and still in her dress and heels, they laid her down on the bed, and joined her. One on each side of her. One pulled her to him, snuggling her up against his chest while the other spooned against her back. Their hands slowly and gently soothing her, lulling her into sleep.

On to Part 2

© Kate Spyder

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About Kate Spyder

I'm a creative individual finding her way in her writing. I enjoy expressing my deep thoughts through poetry and stories. I hope you enjoy them as much as I enjoy writing them.
This entry was posted in Erotic Fiction and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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