Welcome to another episode of Bedtime Stories with Salty Vixen. Tonight’s story is titled “Check Mate”. Dear Sir,  I am eager tonight.. eager to bend over and let you spank me. Hard. I have been a naughty Salty Vixen….yes baby, spank me.

I am a dirty fucking slut, Sir.. let’s begin..

I look up from my glass of wine because I can feel the room suddenly fill with you. The chatter throughout the restaurant ebbs and flows taking on a pulse in time with each confident step you take toward me with your slow, comfortable smile. Your eyes focused and hot on me…like lovers caressing with such intimate knowledge….not so gently, publicly penetrating me with forces of sexual attraction. I openly return your stare with welcome anticipation for the details of maleness that wraps your form already able to smell the scent of your body too close to mine.

“Men don’t affect me like this,” my mind reasons as you slide into the booth next to me. “This one does,” the answer resounds quietly through my thoughts…..my smile answering yours…..and my body naturally turns a little to face you with one arm on the back of the booth with the other hand settling lightly on your thigh. In my struggle for control, I accept you into my body rather than seeking the protection of yours. First move is mine.

No handcuffs or leashes for you. You give control as strength and accept control as a gift….no demands or negotiations. And tonight, we will play this game to win. You testing and teasing….me touching and tempting.

Moving my hand lightly to the inside of your thigh, your breathing is interrupted as you shift uncomfortably in the seat next to me and your eyes meet mine in challenge. “Stutter for me baby…it makes me feel powerful,” I lean closer to you to allow a better view of my breasts reaching for your hands and begging for your mouth. Your eyes flow down my neckline without hiding your intentions stroking paths of passion….stopping for a minute to visualize the releasing each button….before slowing returning to mine. I wait…enjoying your mental masturbations …barely holding back the urge to encourage you by innocently fingering one of the delicate buttons that hold your fascination. Second move is mine.

As my hand continues up the inside of your thigh, I stop for a few seconds to press the curve of my breast against your arm as I reach for my wine. I take a slow sip, watching you over the edge of my glass, using the wine to moisten my lips and softly skimming the rim with the tip of my tongue.

Your eyes provoke with searing sensations of promises. You’re not smiling anymore…the game is on. You are watching me perform a dance of invitation to passions and pleasures just for you. Surrounded by a crowd, we are alone in our public game of foreplay wrapped in seclusion and secrecy omitting the world. Third move is mine.

With a slight rotation of my breasts against your arm as I replace my glass, my nipples thrust against the fabric of my shirt matching the hardness pressing against my hand between your legs. You shift in your seat to open your legs farther and encourage my touch. Arousal filling my hand as a deep under currant of hard breathing melts into a deep moan.

Your hand covers mine in need as you cup my hand around you because I love the feel of you. I run my thumb up your length to the tip in rhythm with the thrills of electricity shooting through the sensitive parts of my body causing ripples of orgasmic pleasure in the pools of liquid threatening my control. Fourth move is mine.

Taking out your wallet, you throw bills on the table and slide out of the booth in a graceful move. “Come with me,” your hand is extended at eye level. Those hands….so prominent in my fantasies… touching, exploring, pleasuring, pleasing….accept my hand with swift grace that pulls me against you with possessiveness.

My control slips as the heat of your body burns against me and the adrenaline rushes like speed turning want into need. My control…it is the gift I give you…and the last move is yours.