Archive-name: Slaves/oralgal3.txt
Archive-author: R. Bolla
Archive-title: Oral Gal - 3


        As Richard led me downstairs from his bedroom, I was still kind of
dully excited.  It's the sort of thing that happens to me occasionally when I
get sexually excited up to a point - but have no climax.  My pussy is tender,
kind of itchy/achy deep inside the flesh of the lips.  My clitoris is swollen
and I feel little shocks of pleasure when I walk.  I was still very wet - he
had given me no opportunity to wipe myself off or anything - and I was
intensely conscious of that, since I would never just walk around like that.
        As we passed my bedroom, he told me he would meet me downstairs in the
living room.  I went in, found the paper and pen in the dressing table, where
he said it would be, and wrote down the name of the stockings as I had been
instructed.  Then I went into the bathroom to "brush my hair".
        The hairbrush he had spoken of was on a counter to the right of the
sink.  As I picked it up, I saw that it was round, with bristles all around.
It had a small head - almost like a child's brush, I thought.  I raised my
skirt and pettycoat up with my left hand and, looking in the mirror to see
what I was doing, I began to brush my pubic hair.
        I had never done this before, and I was surprised at how good it felt.
Of course, I was so excited that any attention paid to the area around my
pussy was going to be pleasurable.  But this was relaxingly exciting.  It kept
the thrills of electricity jumping through the lips of my pussy and each tiny
tug pulling on the lips made my clit throb.  I could have gotten lost in the
feeling - but I knew without his having told me that Richard expected me to do
what I had been told and get downstairs immediately.  So I concentrated on
brushing and sort of twisting the handle of the brush as I stroked, which made
my pubic hair fluff out the way Richard wanted it.  There was something very
strange about styling my pubic hair for a man I had only met once before and
with whom I had not even gone to bed yet - but it was exciting and kind of
nasty, which was exactly what I wanted!
        I finished and smoothed the dress and crinoline back into place.  I
was happy to see that, even though Richard had made me stand with the skirt
bunched up over my waist for quite a while, it still looked unwrinkled and
presentable.
 I wanted to look good for him - particularly for this first meeting.
        As I entered the living room, I saw that Richard was sitting in an
easy chair, sipping a glass of champagne.  I walked over toward his chair, but
didn't get too close.  I was unsure what he wanted of me, and preferred to be
safe rather than sorry.
        "Come over here in front of me and lift your skirt so I can see how
you look," Richard ordered.
        I stopped about 3 feet in front of him and lifted the skirt. He sat
there for a moment studying me, then nodded and told me to let my skirt down.
        "That's good, Michelle," he said.  "From now on, when you're with me,
you'll pay particular attention to your pussy hair for me.

        I want you to brush it often, like that.  I like it to be brushed, on
either side, away from the lips, so they are clearly visible. You have thick,
luxurient hair there.  While it's attractive, we don't want it to cover up
those lips."  He smiled at me.  "When you shower, I will expect you to use
shampoo and conditioner on it, as you would the hair on your head.  Since it
pleases me to see your pussy hair looking good, it will please you to make
sure that it does.  Understood?"
        "Yes, Master," I replied, my eyes directed toward his crotch, as I had
been ordered to do earlier.  For the first time, I thought that I detected
more there than usual.  It looked like he had a bit of a hard-on!  Thank God!!
Maybe I was finally turning him on!
        "We have reservations this evening at a restaurant down in TriBeCa
called "211".  Are you all ready to go out?"
        "Yes, Master," I responded.  I was becoming very careful.  I would
have liked to say that I was ready, unless he wanted me to dress differently,
or anything.  I would not, by myself or with others, have gone to TriBeCa
wearing what I was wearing.  It was the artists' section of New York, and
everyone down there, practically, wore black cotton everything in the summer.
But I knew that to do more than simply reply would be to incur his anger.
        "Good!  I have a small evening bag here for you to carry.  It has
everything in it that you might need.  No need to open it and look - just take
it with you."
        "Yes, Master," I meekly replied - but I was immediately suspicious.
Why didn't he want me to look into the bag?
        I followed him out the front door and stood on the landing while he
locked the door and set the alarm.  It was a beautiful late summer evening -
warm enough to be comfortable wearing very little, but not hot enough for me
to be uncomfortable with the petticoat and stockings I was wearing.
        We walked out to the sidewalk and toward Seventh Avenue to look for a
cab.  He took my arm, and to everyone who passed us we must have looked like
two "normal" lovers.  I felt relaxed and comfortable with him - but I couldn't
escape the novel feeling of my naked pussy under my dress, and the coolness as
the breeze occasionally found the small drops of moisture that coated the
outer part of the lips.
        After a short ride down to the lower part of Manhattan, we drew up in
front of a really lovely restaurant set in the street floor of a manufacturing
and warehouse building.  Out front were a number of tables.  One, it turned
out, had been reserved for us - a table for four with two chairs on adjoining
sides, just to the left of the front door.
        I sat down in the chair closest to the street.  The platform the
tables were on was elevated about four feet above street level, so we had a
great view of the passing parade of pedestrians. Richard sat on my left.  He
ordered champagne for himself and seltzer water for me (since I don't drink)
and settled back, getting comfortable.  It was obvious that all the waiters
and waitresses knew him and deferred to him as one would to a favored customer.
        As we reviewed the menu, Richard told me to relax and talk "normally"
to him.  He would not, at this stage in our relationship, force me to call him
"Master" in public, he said. Although it was nice to relax and enjoy the
evening, there was a certain "edge" that I had already begun to enjoy in our
roles of master/slave that I sort of missed.
        Dinner was delicious.  After salad and the main course, we both
elected only coffee for desert.  I was full - and some of the excitement,
which had subsided while we ate our meal and talked quietly, was coming back.
I had butterflies in my stomach, remembering the purpose of the weekend, and
assuming that we would get back to that purpose when we got back to the
apartment.
        As we sipped our coffee, I felt Richard's hand on the inside of my
left thigh.  The skirt was short and rode up quite a ways as I sat - so my
legs were almost completely bare under the tablecloth.  No one could see as he
stroked and caressed me - within a few feet of other diners and right above
the heads of the pedestrians.  I sat, not moving, as his hand went higher and
higher, above the top of my stocking.  He stroked the sensitive skin of my
groin, between my thighs and my pussy, with just the tips of his fingers.  In
fact, his hand flitted here and there all around my pussy and my clit -but
never touched either.  I was churning with excitement, and my lips were wet,
again, from it. I wanted him to touch me there so badly - but I could only sit
there casually chatting with him, putting on a front for the other diners.
        When I thought I couldn't take it any more, he suddenly stopped
teasing me.  His hand rose from my legs and, grasping my left hand, drew it
under the tablecloth and down to his lap.  When he let go, I realized that his
zipper was down and his cock was exposed!  For a moment, my hand just lay
there.  I was too shocked to do anything about it.  I looked at him, and his
eyes bored into mine.  The meaning was clear, of course, and slowly (careful
not to make a movement which would be seen by others) I took his hard cock in
my hand.
        It was much larger than I had thought.  Thicker and longer, from the
feel of it, than most of the cocks I had experienced before.  I began to
stroke him and found that he was not circumcised, which surprised me.  For
some reason, he was the first uncircumcised man I had ever been with.  I
enjoyed the feeling of the foreskin sliding up and back over the head of his
cock - and the excitement of feeling the head stick further and further out
until it was fully exposed.  As I slowly stroked his cock, he carried on a
perfectly normal conversation - as though nothing at all were going on!  I had
never encountered a man who was so calm and collected.  I, meanwhile, was
dripping wet and dying to go back to the apartment and (as I thought to
myself) really get going!
        After I had stroked him for a few minutes, he leaned his head close to
mine and whispered:
        "I want you to go into the Ladies' Room.  If you need to, you may
relieve yourself now - and I would suggest it, since you may not have another
opportunity for some time.  When you are through, I want you to wash your
pussy clean - I want it fresh and sweet smelling.  In your bag you'll find a
brush similar to the one you used back in your bathroom.  You'll also find
something else that I want you to wear.  It should be obvious how it works.
It had better be, since you'll be punished if you don't get it right.  Now
leave immediately!"
        We were obviously back to Master/Slave - and I was delirious with
excitement, again.  I regretfully let go of his cock and stood up, walking
toward the rear of the restaurant, looking for the rest rooms.  When I found
the Ladies' Room, I sat down immediately and urinated - I had been holding it
in for quite a while, and it had started to get uncomfortable in the last few
minutes.  It was a relief to be able to pee.  When I was finished and had
flushed the toilet, I walked over to the sink and carefully washed myself
using the fine scented soap and paper towels I found there.  After I dried
myself off, I looked in my handbag for the brush.  It was in there, all right
- underneath a cock-shaped thing about five inches long and quite fat.  It had
an adjustable, elasticized set of half- inch straps that was clearly designed
to hold it in place, with one strap to go over it and between the legs which
joined another around the waist.  As he said - it was obvious how it worked!
I brushed the hair away from my pussy lips and spread them open.  I had never
used a dildo before, but I was excited and trembling at the thought.  I
carefully slid it into my pussy and tightened the straps to hold it firmly in
position inside me.  It was strange to move around and feel this thing in me -
and very sexy!  When I was sure it wouldn't fall out or move a great deal, I
again used the brush to style my pubic hair the way Richard liked it.
        I walked back out to the table, feeling the dildo inside me and almost
falling down with the continual flow of pleasure from my pussy.  I reached the
table and sat down, allowing the dress to ride way up my thighs again, nearly
exposing the tops of my nylons.

        I wanted to reach over and stroke his cock, again, but I was afraid to
take permission to do that for granted.  And I knew we were back to the stage
where I was not expected to initiate any discussions - so I just sat and
waited to be told what to do.
        "The check's paid, my dear.  Let's walk a bit before we get a cab,
shall we?"
        He took my arm, led me down the steps and started walking west, which
I knew wasn't the direction we'd go if we were looking for a cab.  He was just
roaming around, and it was a nice night and everything - but I had a dildo in
me that was doing things that I had never felt before with each step!  I just
prayed that soon we'd be heading home and I could have the climax I'd been
building toward for several hours, now!

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