An Indecent Proposal
A weekend evening at a luxurious downtown restaurant promised to be calm and unhurried. Soft, muted light, live saxophone, and expensive wine in our glasses created a pleasant, relaxing atmosphere. Natalie looked magnificent: a clinging emerald silk dress showed off her lush, juicy hips and the deep line of her cleavage, which the men at the neighboring tables kept eyeing again and again.
At the height of the evening, when a slow, syrupy melody started playing, a tall, imposing man of about forty walked up to our table with complete confidence. He radiated self-assurance, expensive cologne, and serious money. Politely but very openly, he swept Natalie with a carnivorous gaze, then turned to me:
“Good evening. Forgive the intrusion. Would you allow me to invite your beautiful companion for one dance?” His voice was low and velvety.
I glanced at Natalie. Her cheeks were already lightly flushed from the wine, and in her eyes flared that gambling, wicked spark I knew so well. I leaned back calmly in my chair, took a sip of whiskey, and nodded with a slight smile:
“Of course. I don’t mind.”
The man gallantly offered Natalie his hand, and they headed toward the half-dark of the dance floor.
The Limits of the Permissible
From the very first step, the dance stopped being mere polite movement to music. The stranger immediately pulled Natalie in far closer than decency required. His strong hands settled confidently on her slender waist, and his hips pressed tight against her juicy curves. Natalie drew a convulsive breath but made not the slightest attempt to pull away. Instead she obediently draped her graceful arms over his shoulders, surrendering completely to his pressure.
Feeling how pliant she was, the man moved to open action. Right there in the dance, his palms began groping her body, frank and unhurried. He slid his hands slowly below her waist, crumpling the silk of the dress and squeezing her appetizing, springy buttocks like he owned them. His fingers teasingly lifted the hem, gliding along her thighs. Natalie closed her eyes sweetly; her breathing turned ragged and fast. She pressed her chest against him, drunk on it, feeling her nipples harden instantly under the thin silk from such shameless attention in the middle of a crowded restaurant.
I watched them from our table, feeling my cock swell in my trousers with a heavy, pulsing force. Natalie caught my burning stare over the stranger’s shoulder and smiled slyly, letting me know that this frank, dirty dance was turning her on to the point of madness.
The Deal
When the music faded, the man held Natalie in his arms a few seconds longer, whispering something directly into her ear. Natalie inhaled unevenly, nodded, and came back to our table with a quick, slightly swaying walk. Her face burned with color, and her dress sat slightly askew on her hips.
She perched on the edge of the chair, took a greedy swallow of wine straight from my glass, and, leaning across the table, whispered conspiratorially:
“Darling… you won’t believe what he just offered me.”
“Well, what?” I asked with a smile, covering her trembling hand with mine.
“His name is Wade. He’s insanely rich. He said he’d cover our entire enormous bill at this restaurant and add a very respectable sum in cash on top — if I go with him right now to his suite at the five-star hotel across the street.”
Natalie faltered for a second, her eyes glittering feverishly with a wild cocktail of fear, shame, and arousal.
“And what did you tell him?” I squeezed her fingers a little harder.
“I said… I said I couldn’t go without you. But I added that you wouldn’t interfere — that you’d come with us to personally supervise everything he’s going to do to me. He agreed without a moment’s hesitation. He’s waiting for us at the exit.”