kept casting surreptitious glances Carly’s way, no doubt admiring the flush on her creamy skin, the perk of those gorgeous nipples beneath her dress and the delightful way she was squirming in her seat. The youngest waiter stayed after the sommelier and the older Frenchman had gone, lingering unnecessarily, it seemed to Adam.
“You may go,” Adam informed him. “We’ll let you know if we need anything else.”
Carly had her hands on the table now, pressing down with open palms. Her eyes were closed, her face twisted in concentration. When the waiter had gone, she whispered urgently, “Please, Sir. Please. I’m going to come. I can’t help it. Please.”
“If you do, I’ll punish you. And I won’t wait till we get home either. You’ll be punished right here in the restaurant.”
Her eyes flew open, her hands clenching into fists. Adam glanced around them. They were seated in a private corner of the restaurant and the lighting was dim. As long as no waiter suddenly appeared, no one would witness what was happening at their table.
Carly was visibly sweating now, a sheen on her flushed cheeks. Her hands were clenched in her lap and her body was shaking. “Oh, god. I can’t help it. Oh god…” A sweet whimper escaped her lips and she lifted a hand to her mouth, trying to stifle her small orgasmic cries.
“Did you come?” Adam asked unnecessarily as he flicked off the remote.
Sagging back against her chair, Carly nodded. “I’m sorry, Sir. I couldn’t help—”
“Yes, yes, I know,” Adam interrupted, pretending to be annoyed. “You couldn’t help it. First thing tomorrow we’ll work on orgasm control, young lady. But for now, enjoy your food before it gets cold. Punishment comes afterwards.”
That was mean, he knew, and Adam felt almost bad for having possibly ruined her ability to enjoy her meal, but, after a few hesitant bites, Carly began to eat, the incredible food no doubt overshadowing any anxiety about the impending punishment at least for the moment.
As they shared their meal, Carly kept casting the occasional anxious look Adam’s way. Adam smiled benignly back at her. The younger waiter appeared every few minutes, refilling a water glass, offering fresh bread, topping off their wine, his eyes sliding hungrily over Carly when he thought no one was looking.
When the main course was cleared, the older Frenchman appeared, a crisp white linen napkin over his arm, the younger waiter in tow just behind him. “Are you ready for your coffee and dessert, Monsieur?”
“In a bit,” Adam replied, pushing back his chair. “We’re going to take some air. We’ll be back in about ten minutes.”
“ Très bien, Monsieur .” The man bowed while the younger waiter pulled Carly’s chair back for her. The waiters probably assumed they were going out for a smoke, but Adam led Carly back to the restrooms.
There were five separate restrooms, each with its own private door. Inside was more like a small living room than a bathroom. There was a walled-off stall for the toilet. Along with a marbled sink, the small room contained a long, low sofa with a thickly-piled throw rug in front of it.
Adam sat on the sofa and reached into the inner pocket of his jacket for the travel quirt he had placed there in anticipation of this delicious moment. “Lift your dress to your waist,” he ordered the still-standing girl, “and lie on your stomach over my lap.”
Carly drew in her breath as she stared at the wicked leather whip in his hand, but did as he ordered. Adam could feel his cock rising beneath her body resting so sweetly on his, but now wasn’t the time for his pleasure.
“Five strokes on each side. You will count.”
The base of the butt plug was peeking from between her cheeks and he could just see the edges of the rubber butterfly pressed against her pussy. He thought about turning the toys on again, but decided that would distract from Carly’s focus on the quirt.
Pressing one hand
“You may go,” Adam informed him. “We’ll let you know if we need anything else.”
Carly had her hands on the table now, pressing down with open palms. Her eyes were closed, her face twisted in concentration. When the waiter had gone, she whispered urgently, “Please, Sir. Please. I’m going to come. I can’t help it. Please.”
“If you do, I’ll punish you. And I won’t wait till we get home either. You’ll be punished right here in the restaurant.”
Her eyes flew open, her hands clenching into fists. Adam glanced around them. They were seated in a private corner of the restaurant and the lighting was dim. As long as no waiter suddenly appeared, no one would witness what was happening at their table.
Carly was visibly sweating now, a sheen on her flushed cheeks. Her hands were clenched in her lap and her body was shaking. “Oh, god. I can’t help it. Oh god…” A sweet whimper escaped her lips and she lifted a hand to her mouth, trying to stifle her small orgasmic cries.
“Did you come?” Adam asked unnecessarily as he flicked off the remote.
Sagging back against her chair, Carly nodded. “I’m sorry, Sir. I couldn’t help—”
“Yes, yes, I know,” Adam interrupted, pretending to be annoyed. “You couldn’t help it. First thing tomorrow we’ll work on orgasm control, young lady. But for now, enjoy your food before it gets cold. Punishment comes afterwards.”
That was mean, he knew, and Adam felt almost bad for having possibly ruined her ability to enjoy her meal, but, after a few hesitant bites, Carly began to eat, the incredible food no doubt overshadowing any anxiety about the impending punishment at least for the moment.
As they shared their meal, Carly kept casting the occasional anxious look Adam’s way. Adam smiled benignly back at her. The younger waiter appeared every few minutes, refilling a water glass, offering fresh bread, topping off their wine, his eyes sliding hungrily over Carly when he thought no one was looking.
When the main course was cleared, the older Frenchman appeared, a crisp white linen napkin over his arm, the younger waiter in tow just behind him. “Are you ready for your coffee and dessert, Monsieur?”
“In a bit,” Adam replied, pushing back his chair. “We’re going to take some air. We’ll be back in about ten minutes.”
“ Très bien, Monsieur .” The man bowed while the younger waiter pulled Carly’s chair back for her. The waiters probably assumed they were going out for a smoke, but Adam led Carly back to the restrooms.
There were five separate restrooms, each with its own private door. Inside was more like a small living room than a bathroom. There was a walled-off stall for the toilet. Along with a marbled sink, the small room contained a long, low sofa with a thickly-piled throw rug in front of it.
Adam sat on the sofa and reached into the inner pocket of his jacket for the travel quirt he had placed there in anticipation of this delicious moment. “Lift your dress to your waist,” he ordered the still-standing girl, “and lie on your stomach over my lap.”
Carly drew in her breath as she stared at the wicked leather whip in his hand, but did as he ordered. Adam could feel his cock rising beneath her body resting so sweetly on his, but now wasn’t the time for his pleasure.
“Five strokes on each side. You will count.”
The base of the butt plug was peeking from between her cheeks and he could just see the edges of the rubber butterfly pressed against her pussy. He thought about turning the toys on again, but decided that would distract from Carly’s focus on the quirt.
Pressing one hand
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