Mel blushes as she thinks about Michael.

A gorgeous dress was delivered to her earlier. It's sophisticated and elegant, looks couture, but the fact that he selected it for her to wear for him also makes it erotic.

She's damp from her bath. Her skin is slick from delicious-scented bath oils. She’s shaving between her legs, and viscerally remembers the feel of his rough-tipped fingers touching her pussy.

Wrapped in a towel in front of a mirror, Mel brushes her hair. She wants to appear naturally tousled, and effortlessly carefree, as if she's just come in from outdoors. Smiling, in her head she says, “It's my please come fuck me now hair!”

Her skin is pale and dewy, and she does her makeup naturally, clean. With a hint of warmth, she accentuates her natural glow and finishes specifically for Michael with bright red lipstick. She shudders at a memory of when she left a ring around his cock with her lips. It made him rock hard, so now she always wears it.

She feels jittery even though she knows how to please him. To calm her natural adrenaline, she recites a mantra out loud to herself, repeats it three times: “Hold it together. Be a good girl!"

The panties go without saying. They're red silk, and she takes them from a drawer, steps into them, and shimmies them up over her hips. Reaching back into the drawer, she flicks a switch on and off to test it, and slides the butterfly into the special pocket which will hold it in place against her clit.

She admires the dress once more before zipping herself carefully into it. Her legs are bare and smooth. The dress is cut so low, with a plunging neckline and nearly to her ass in back; she remains braless.

With barely time to sit down and put on the strappy heels she chose to complement the dress, she gets the text, “Be outside in five minutes.” Picking up a clutch and taking a moment in front of the mirror, “I'm ready,” she says, and with an excited flutter of anticipation, she leaves the house.

The chauffeur is at the door. “Good evening, Mel. You're right on time, and you look fantastic,” he says, and she blushes. He offers her his arm, and she accepts it. When he opens the door to the limo, Michael leans out with his hand to guide her.

Michael's eyes always melt her. She feels them warmly on her now seated facing him. The drive is short, and they speak comfortably. He gives her flowers, red, like her lips, and she accepts the champagne and strawberries he has ready for her.

Seductively, she holds a strawberry between her bright red lips for him. It does not escape his attention, but he's relaxed, leaning back, languid, like some big wild cat, and she's a kitten. She feels naked under his gaze, as if he’s licking her entire body with his eyes. Despite the space between them, she feels it.

The chauffeur helps Mel out of the limo and holds the door for Michael. Inside, the maitre ‘d greets them warmly, “So nice to see you again sir, and Mel, you're as lovely as ever. Your table is ready. Please follow me.”

The restaurant is crowded, elegant, lit with candles. Crossing the room to their table, his hand is brazenly low on her bare back, so near to her butt that, for a moment, a finger grazed the top of her panties. Date night’s just begun, and already her clit’s a-tingling from his attention.

Looking deliciously distinguished, Michael holds Mel’s chair like a gentleman but fondles her ass as she sits. Before going to the lavatory, he kisses her forehead and leans in to whisper, “You look hot as fuck!”

He’s her king, and she works hard to be a queen for him. Anticipating his return and eager to please him with drinks, she signals the waiter. He looks familiar. She tries to place him, but her irritation distracts her. He saw her, and she can't believe it, but he fiddles with his cell phone, making her wait before he comes for her order.

Michael comes back. He's nonchalant with his face in the menu, seemingly unaware, but his timing seems perfect. As the waiter appears with the drinks, the butterfly pocketed in Mel’s panties starts silently humming.

The precedent is clear. She’s required to maintain strict composure. Gawd, that annoying waiter saw her suggestively wriggle, and damn it, he definitely heard her groan, albeit softly, like a cat in heat.

Mel’s chest is red, hot, and aroused from her embarrassment. Breathing slowly and squeezing her thighs, she tries to control it. While watching Michael stoically feign unawareness, she silently recites a mantra to herself, repeats it three times: “Hold it together. Be a good girl!"

Recomposed, and sipping wine and enjoying the look of him, she makes a decision. “Two can play,” she thinks, “I'll tease him right back!” With pride, and her bare foot against his cock, she takes pleasure from the lust in his eyes on her.

She doesn't notice the arrival. The onslaught in her panties resumes with increased intensity as the waiter inquires, “Does the lady know what she’d like?”

With deep admiration and decidedly damp panties, she realizes that Michael patiently and wantonly seems to wish to stimulate her only when the waiter bears witness. Quivering, she whispers too low to be heard, “He’s never played me like this before.”

Pleasant conversation resumes. Her bare foot is now stroking a hard cock under the table. She feels relaxed, in control again, has forgotten her mantra, and gives him a nice squeeze with her toes.

Seeing food crossing the room on its way to the table, Mel senses what’s coming. With anxious anticipation and with braless erect nipples in her low-cut strappy dress, she feels a full-body frisson undulating delightfully across her pale breasts before hearing, “Ma’am, would you like fresh grated Parmesan?”

The pulsating sequence of the butterfly nearly breaks her, and her panties are flooded with a hot surge of moisture. Valiantly she replies, though with a strained sigh, more a hiss, “Yah-yeasss, pah-pleeese!”

She knows she was bad. She’d do it again. She doesn't regret it. There’s an aching, familiar yearning need deep down inside her. She made him twitch and throb under the silk-covered table, and please, she thinks, “I deserve further punishment!”

Michael's composed and has cleared his plate. It's the lull before the storm. Mel’s distracted with a flush on her cheeks, picking sensually at her plate, and looks up at the waiter when he asks her, “Did you save room for dessert?”

With seemingly violent intentions towards her poor helpless clit, the butterfly escalates with intense rhythmic patterns. Riven by a wave of pleasure that leaves her breathless, she desperately pleads, “Pah-pleeease. Gaaawd. Cha-cha-check, pleeease!”

Her thighs are wet, her legs uncontrollably clenching, and her face and chest are beet red with a blush from unrelenting pleasure. Weak at the knees and still stuttering, only after Michael’s half-carried her out to the limo, at the curb the butterfly finally quits playing her.

Back in the limo, Mel’s regained her breath and her spasms are ceasing, but aftershocks are occurring. Michael is confused and delighted as she melts into him and says with a whimper, “This is the best date ever!”

Mel then points at the remote on the seat between them and asks a question with her eyes, without speaking. “I don’t understand what the hell just happened,” says Michael. “I didn’t even bring it inside. The batteries are dead. I'm sorry.”

Adorably pouting, Mel thinks, then exclaims with a giggle, “I hope you gave that waiter a huuuge tip!” and with a low, gravely purr, she resumes, “Now pleeese Master, please, I need you to please come fuck me now!”

The limo is silently sliding through the city., “Your command is my wish, my Princess," Michael replies, kissing her bright red lips gently, and closes the privacy partition. In a slow, honeyed rumble, unhurried and entirely at ease, he tells her, “Date night’s not over. I’ve got other plans for you.”

Mel slides dreamily down into her seat and closes her eyes. She lets her dress ride up and feels rough-tipped fingers sliding up her soft thigh, slides her hand into her wet red silk panties and caresses her pussy. Her kitty is usually ginger. Today kitty’s shaved baby-smooth, and she’s so slippery that two, three, then four fingers slide in easily.

With open eyes, she would see that his cock is rock hard in his slacks. Regardless, she feels his eyes on her and knows who’s in charge. It feels good when he praises, “You're a good girl,” and, as a further reward, takes his hand from her thigh, adds, “I’m so proud of you,” and pinches her nipple.

Giving up all control, Mel helplessly convulses, and hopelessly wet, she releases.