Invisible Strings

Chapter Twenty-Five

"Oh god, it's a sex club aint it?" she asked, making me laugh.

But even as I did, a vision of her in nothing but a thong, kneeling on her knees with her eyes cast downward as she waited for me, washed over me, making my cock jump with need. The vision was very reminiscent of a scene from that popular book series from a few years ago that had been turned into a series of movies. The difference was, in the movie the woman had been slightly intimidated and intrigued by the dominant man standing in front of her who was nothing more than a sadist while there was nothing sinister behind the reasons that I preferred to go caveman on my woman. I just liked things a little more spicy, more adventurous.

With each second more that I thought about the image that my mind conjured up, my cock grew harder and harder, the appendage demanding that I find some relief soon.I didn't even try to hide the effect her seemingly innocent question had on me as I placed a hand over my cock and adjusted it so that it didn't end up ripping through the zipper of my slacks. As I did, a low, deep moan slipped past my lips, my body wishing that it was her hand on me instead of mine.

Soon... Soon her hands will be on every inch of you. And if we're lucky, her mouth will be stretched around your cock...

"Not a sex club, but now that you have given me the idea..." I said, letting my sentence dangle. I heard her sharp intake of breath, at my words. I didn't know if I had just scandalized her or if that deep inhale had been because she was now thinking about the possibility of her and I visiting a sex club. And I didn't care.

Delaney and I settled into a contented silence then –the only sound in the truck was the radio as it softly filled the cab, both of us undoubtedly thinking about sex clubs and what tonight was going to hold. At least I knew I was.

Delaney's POV:

Maybe letting Brantley take the lead, letting him set the pace for how fast –or slow– things progressed between us, hadn't been the best idea. No, the better idea would have been for me to insist that we sit across from one another in the quiet, dimly lit restaurant. The better idea would have been for me to put all thoughts of sex, Brantley, and clubs in a nice little box, tucked away in the back of my mind to fantasize about later. But instead of doing either of those things, I'd let Brantley lead us to a dark corner of the dimly lit restaurant. I'd let him urge me to sit on the cushiony red leather seat beside him instead of sitting in the chair across the table from him.

And all of that led to me sitting in the middle of a crowded restaurant with Brantley's hand up my skirt and his fingers beneath the dainty lace of my thong as they moved over my clit –all before we had even been served our dinner.

Never, and I do mean never, did I think that I would be about to fall apart in the middle of a crowded place by a man's hand; hell, by anyone's hand or anything else for that matter. But holy shit, was I ever. Whether I was so turned on was because of the man that was slowly bringing me closer and closer to the brink, the fact that people were sitting near us who had to know what was going on beneath the table, or the fact that it had been so long since I had experienced an orgasm by anyone's hand but my own, I didn't know. And as the blissful feeling of what his fingers promised washed over me, I didn't care in the slightest. They could all watch for all I cared.

When the first tremor of my release crashed over me like a wave crashing on the shore, I sank my teeth into Brantley's shoulder, using his muscular body to smother the moan that I knew would be heard throughout most of the restaurant had not done so. My body shivered, having nothing to do with the temperature in the room and everything to do with the pleasurable feeling that my release had left me with. But still, his fingers didn't stop. They danced over my clit before moving downward to my opening. My hips voluntarily shifted so that he could fill my pussy with his thick fingers, the feeling of them stretching me prolonging the rapturous feelings roiling inside of me. My breast felt heavy, my nipples straining against the material of my dress since I wasn't wearing a bra. My nails on my right hand dug into his muscular thigh as I rode out the rest of my orgasm.

When the last little whimper from my release left me and my body was completely lax, Brantley slipped his hand from beneath my skirt and lifted them to his mouth, licking them clean. A deep moan slipped past his lips as he did so. He then brought his mouth down over mine, giving me a taste of myself mixed with the taste of his mouth. And it was hedonistic, making me want so much more.

"Brantley..." I moaned softly when he broke the kiss.

"I know, baby." he said, taking my hand that had been on his thigh and placing it over his cock. My fingers instantly began to massage him, my fingers lightly trailing over the bulge behind his zipper. "I know..."

Before either of us could say anything else, the waitress appeared with our meals. Brantley smiled at me, a knowing smile. One that said that he was about to devour his meal and then he was going to devour me. Oh goody!