Something seemed to have spooked her, but Steven wasn’t quite sure what.  Red had seemed full of confidence when they’d met, quite a different girl from the one his friend had described after he’d met her back in New York.  Well… more an acquaintance than a friend; Steven wouldn’t kiss-and-tell and the account he’d received had been detailed, and less than flattering.  Steven didn’t go for that sort of indiscretion.

But Red hadn’t been that girl; he’d spent only a few moments in her company yet already knew that she wasn’t the dull, unimaginative, missionary-only wooden girl his… acquaintance… had described.  No, there was no chance; not with that bite to her humour, not with that intelligent look in her eyes.  And not with that dress.  Or that makeup – black lipstick and eyeshadow contrasting with the deep, purple eyeliner – it was striking, to say the least.

Yet Steven was momentarily puzzled; something about the booth he’d chosen had her spooked, but he had no idea what it could be.  The seating arrangements seemed perfectly normal to him.  She’d been alert and curious as they’d walked in, then she’d seen the booth and frozen.  Yes, that was the word – she’d stopped still for a good second or two, like she’d seen a ghost, and the blood had drained from her already-pale complexion.

Steven took Red’s arm gently and nudged her towards her seat, and she allowed herself to be so led as though she was quite distracted.  The table was close to the booth seats, requiring her to sit and then edge along, and Steven blinked as her dress rose up a little.  Red hadn’t seemed to notice; something was clearly on her mind and she’d been remiss in taking the same care she’d shown entering and leaving the limousine.  And while her indelible social training had led her to instinctively keep her grace and poise as she nudged along the seat, the dress was really that short; it had taken only that moment of distraction, and the damage had been done.

Steven smiled to himself as he considered the glimpse he’d seen.  He’d expected to see an expensive pair of black underwear – or, perhaps, if she was bold, something in red.  Yet while there had been underwear on display, there hadn’t been much of it.  Instead, the flash of perfectly-smooth and enticing skin had ineluctably drawn his eye.

There was only one conclusion: his date for the evening, this prim and proper girl (or so he’d been led to believe), was wearing crotchless panties.  And under a dress of that length – or lack of length, he supposed. 

He’d intended to do the gentlemanly thing and seat himself opposite her, but how quickly the situation had changed.  Clearly, Red had dressed for a different agenda this evening, and who was he to gainsay her? 

Steven gave her a moment to get comfortable, then joined her on the same side of the table.  She looked up at him, momentarily surprised, then slipped further along the seat to make room.  The draping, white tablecloth hid any further glimpses she may have inadvertently shown, but it didn’t matter; Steven had already seen.

The staff hovered politely, as one would expect in a venue such as this, and were quick to rearrange the tableware before them.  They wouldn’t have noticed anything, Steven realised, not least because he’d blocked their view himself. 

“Sparkling water, and a bottle of Dom Pérignon.”  Red glanced at him again, perhaps irked that he’d ordered for her, perhaps approving of his choice.  Steven didn’t much care which it was; she’d inadvertently given him the initiative and he was damned if he wasn’t going to run with it.  No, it was clear what Red was offering for the night, and if she wanted to be so blatant then he’d have some fun with it.  Perhaps his father expected him to court the girl, but one didn’t look for a wife in a girl who wore crotchless panties under a shockingly-short dress on a first date.  No, girls like that were for… other purposes.

Steven waited for their champagne to be poured and the staff to leave before lifting his glass.

“Let’s drink to…” he smiled slowly, “…this evening.”

She still seemed a little unsettled but was hiding it well as she sipped her drink.  Perhaps she’d realised her mistake and was having second thoughts.  He watched her over the rim of his glass, wondering if her fire would return or if she’d suddenly make some excuse and try to leave.

Even now she didn’t seem to be fully engaged; her attention, if anything, seemed to be on the mirror directly behind him.  Steven frowned; she was behaving a little bit oddly.  But it didn’t really matter; he wasn’t planning on seeing her after tonight. 

Both menus and the wine list were conveniently beside Steven and he picked one up, not bothering to offer the other to Red.  “Are you hungry, Jamie?” he let the double-entendre float in the air.

“Call me Red.”

He glanced at her, smiling.  “Yes… I’ve heard you prefer that.”

“Oh?  Who told you?”

“Do you remember Alfie?  From New York?” he watched her carefully for a reaction.

Red had to think hard; she’d met so many eligible bachelors, a fair few of them in New York where she most often lived, that it was a challenge to distinguish one bore from another.  But she’d hesitated too long, and that in itself was an answer.

“Apparently not,” Steven commented dryly, his amusement obvious.

Red blushed, and her eyes flicked again to the mirror behind him.  Steven almost felt compelled to look too, wondering what captivated her so.

He turned again to his menu.  “So are you hungry, Red?”

“I haven’t eaten yet today,” she replied, and, as an afterthought, “I had quite an active afternoon.”

The added comment seemed to suggest something of significance, but Steven didn’t care to enquire; he wanted to keep her off balance, not give her the opportunity to tell him of her trip to the gym. 

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’.”  He closed the menu and gestured towards the politely-attentive waiter.

“We’ll both have the tomato and burrata salad to start, with the chateaubriand to follow.”  He ignored Red’s pointed look. 

“Of course, sir.  How would you care for it to be cooked?”

“Rare, obviously.” 

“Of course, sir.  And some wine?”

Steven hadn’t opened the wine menu.  “Chateau Lafite; 2009 if you have it.”

“Very good, sir.”

The waiter took the menus and disappeared.

“Do you always order for your date?” Red asked, and Steven was pleased to detect a bite in her tone.

“No,” he replied frankly, still amused at the direction the evening had taken, and curious how she would respond.  But one didn’t dance around a girl in crotchless panties; he already knew what he was going to have for dessert.

“How have I earned the special treatment?”  She seemed put out, he realised, and the thought entertained him.

Steven slowly leant back in his seat as he regarded her. “You’re a different type of girl to my usual date.”

He watched as she took a sip of her drink by way of reply; evidently she couldn’t argue the point in that dress with that makeup.  They both knew this wasn’t the way these arranged dates usually went, not in the circles they both frequented.  No, there was a set way of doing things, and this most certainly wasn’t it.  Her glass came away with a tinge of black lipstick, as if to emphasise the fact.

“You’re arrogant,” she accused, and he smiled as she went on the offensive.

“Confidence is often mistaken for arrogance.”

“Oh?  And what merits such confidence?”

He watched her face carefully so as to not miss her reaction.  “Your choice of underwear.”

Red started, her glass jerking slightly in her hand, the champagne almost spilling.  A blush rapidly infused her face, the paleness of her complexion making it all the more obvious.  Steven couldn’t help but be intrigued; most girls who wore crotchless panties had long since forgotten how to blush.  Red was continuing to surprise him, and he realised he was enjoying himself all the more. 

But he wasn’t about to let her off the hook.

Steven rested his arm on the back of the seat against which they both sat and leant slowly into her space, keeping her eyes locked with his.  He let his other hand lie on the edge of the table before her. 

“Spread your knees,” he murmured quietly, giving his confidence – or his arrogance – free reign. 

Somehow, he knew she’d obey.

Red looked down, unable to meet his eyes, then once again glanced at the mirror behind him.  That was becoming irritating, and Steven wondered what it was that distracted her so.  Perhaps there was someone she knew in the restaurant… yes, that made sense.  It would explain her sudden nervousness; to be dressed as she was and then to see someone she’d recognised.  If she could see that person in the mirror, perhaps she thought they would be watching her too.  It was one thing to be told to spread one’s knees beneath the protection of a tablecloth, but quite another to do so when someone she knew might be watching. 

Steven realised he didn’t care; he had nothing to lose if she said ‘no’ or bolted.  And she’d come dressed for this; why else wear such a get-up to dinner?  He knew with certainty that she wanted this, and it was his certainty that carried the confidence to which he’d alluded.

For a long moment neither moved.  He watched her face, and she seemed to watch that damn mirror.

Then her eyes lowered, her blush deepened, and slowly he felt her shift on the seat beside him, her thigh nudging gently against his knee as she spread her legs.

Steven felt his pulse accelerate, and fought to keep a smile of triumph from his face.  Instead, his hand slipped gradually, teasingly, from the edge of the table, and he brushed his fingertips against her bare skin. 

Red started at his touch, as though it were unwelcome or surprising, yet she’d made no noise of dissent and obeyed his command.  He let his fingers lightly caress along the inside of her thigh.

“I know what you want,” he said softly, watching her face as his fingers inched leisurely towards his goal, “what you had planned for this evening.”

Red didn’t reply; didn’t meet his eyes.  Probably couldn’t, by this point.  He could almost taste her embarrassment and sent a silent ‘thank you’ to the stranger somewhere in the restaurant that was inadvertently adding such spice to their encounter.

Steven’s wandering fingers reached the delicate skin of her inner thigh, a mere whisper from her core, and he paused, stroking gently, content now to prolong the anticipation. 

Her breathing had quickened, he noticed; her arousal was evident.  Her lips were slightly parted and he realised he wanted to see her eyes.

“Look at me.”

Red raised her eyes slowly, as if compelled, as if it took effort.  It was almost as if she were reluctant, yet he knew she was not.  If she were, she would not have dressed so.  If she were, there was nothing stopping her getting up and leaving.  No, it was obvious she was willing, however reluctant she may pretend to be.  Such an opportunity came along rarely and Steven planned to make the most of it.

Her eyes held a depth of emotion he hadn’t anticipated.  Steven had expected her to be excited, or perhaps challenging; what he hadn’t expected was to see such consternation.  It almost made him stop, to second-guess her desire.  Yet, within, he saw arousal too, for her eyes glittered with it, and as he watched she unconsciously licked nervously at her lip.  His fingers nudged closer, for he now knew what he would find: she was unquestionably aroused, and the only question that remained was how wet she was.

The waiter chose that moment to arrive with their entrées, disturbing the tableau, and Steven leant back slowly, lifting his hand away.

Red released a breath with a shudder as though she’d been holding it, and Steven felt her thigh move away.

“I didn’t tell you to close your knees,” he said clearly, and to his amusement Red glanced at the waiter, blushed, and once more her leg pushed gently against his.

The waiter kept a perfectly impassive face as he set their order before them, and departed as unobtrusively as he’d arrived.

Steven watched her for a long moment as Red sat, her knees still obediently parted, as if awaiting his command.  Which she was, he realised; her submission, his control of her, was another surprise of the evening, and one that delighted him.

He wondered how far he could take it.

Once more he leant into her, his hand dropping between her legs.

But her eyes had lowered anew.  “Look at me, Red.”  His voice was assured, and he waited until she’d obeyed him. 

It was a pleasure to see the emotions play across her face, but Steven wanted more.  He wanted to force her to react, to acknowledge his control of her, to acknowledge what her body craved.

He ran his fingers lightly along her thigh, and this time he didn’t stop. 

She was as smooth and as silky as the glimpse she’d inadvertently afforded had promised.  Red took a sharp intake of breath as he caressed her, running two fingers lightly over her labia while a third pushed gently between.  She was as aroused as he’d envisaged, his probing finger quickly becoming coated with her slick wetness, and his lips twitched in amusement at the confirmation.

He used his outer fingers to spread her lips open more and slid his middle finger between, his fingertip grazing over her delicate entrance, before slipping up in her silky wetness and flicking over her clit.  All the while he watched her face.

Red gasped involuntarily as his fingers touched her.  Interestingly it still seemed to him as if she were conflicted, for as he caressed her she squirmed in the seat awkwardly, as though she wanted to pull away, yet could not.  She was a bewildering contradiction; evidently she’d come prepared for this, encouraging it almost, and too she was obviously aroused, yet he kept receiving the impression she was acting against her will.  He couldn’t help but wonder if she would stand up, slap him, and storm out – but she hadn’t yet, and still didn’t. 

He dipped his finger down towards her opening one more, testing her, flicking the tip across her entrance, and again her body seemed to shiver as though she hoped he wouldn’t penetrate her, even as a small whimper of arousal slipped from her lips.  Originally, he hadn’t intended to go so far – merely to lightly tease – but her reaction was so intriguing that he was curious whether she’d allow it.

Watching her face closely he deliberately pushed, his fingertip slipping easily through her wet folds into the entrance of her, yet she merely bit her bottom lip and twitched slightly in the seat.  Steven didn’t understand the source of her reluctance or even if he’d completely misread it, but it no longer mattered – his finger had penetrated her, she’d made no sound of protest, and she’d obeyed his every command thus far.  It seemed to him then that he could take her anyway he wished, and she would submit to him.

He decided to test her, to push the boundaries and see how willing and obliging she really was.

Steven slipped his fingers from her and raised them slowly, the evidence of her arousal obviously coating his skin, and her eyes were inexorably drawn to them as he lifted them to her mouth.

“Open,” he commanded, and again Red’s eyes flicked to the mirror before her lips parted.  He slid his wet finger inside her mouth, penetrating her again, and she whimpered quietly as her lips closed around him, sucking him.  He felt her exquisite tongue lick softly against him, once more confirming to him her utter submission, despite the haunted look in her eyes.

Perhaps she was a slave to her own needs and desires, he reasoned.  Yes; a prim and proper girl held constrained for too long, now away from home, fighting to let out her inner slut.  Well, Steven had no issue helping her with that.  It was the magnanimous thing to do.

He explored her mouth with his finger, sliding it slowly back and then pushing in again, her black lipstick a startling contrast to the paleness of her skin as her lips wrapped around him.  All the while her tongue licked at him gently, unbidden but welcome, and he wondered if she knew how submissive and suggestive that was.  Though they were well past ‘suggestive’ now, he thought, as she licked the last remnants of her own wetness from his skin. 

Again he sought to test her, and, pulling his finger from her mouth, he once more slipped his hand between her legs.  He pushed inside her deeper than before, feeling the tightness of her channel, watching her face all the while as he proved to her that he could do what he wished, and she would do nothing to resist.  Indeed, she merely shivered at his touch and whimpered as he slid inside her, and when he raised his hand to her mouth she took him in, licking and sucking, without needing to be told.

“Good girl,” he commended her softly, and she seemed to shiver at his praise.  Her eyes held his with a pleading expression even as her tongue lapped against his digit, and Steven wondered if she was pleading for discretion, or for him to stop, or for him to take her deeper into her sexual awakening, and do what he wished with her.  It didn’t much matter; he’d already decided which option he was going with.

Steven slipped his finger from her mouth and turned back to the table, casually picking up his fork and addressing himself to the delicious salad that had been presented.  Beside him, Red took a steadying breath or two before lifting her own fork in imitation.

He was amused to feel that she still hadn’t closed her knees.  Granted, he hadn’t told her she could, but what an invitation!  It seemed cruel to deprive her, and his other hand slipped between them even as he took another bite of his food.  He toyed with her, teased her, his fingertips caressing her folds, occasionally flicking over her clit or pushing against her opening.  For some moments he carried on so, very much enjoying both the food and the girl. 

For her part she ate slowly, clearly distracted by his fingers between her legs, and from time to time she would emit the most pleasing little whimpers, or glance across at him with those pleading eyes.

Steven spiked his last piece of burrata and tomato on his fork, wiped it through the remnants of the balsamic glaze, and lifted it to his mouth.  Red’s plate was still more than half-full; his fingers, it seemed, had disturbed her appetite, however hungry she might have been.  Yet it was obvious that what she really wanted was something else entirely, judging by how she was now squirming in her seat, whimpering more frequently, and even occasionally pushing herself against his probing fingers.  It seemed any dregs of reluctance had lost out to her growing arousal, and if he’d had any doubt, all his fingers were slick with her wetness. 

He waved the waiter over with his other hand.

“I’m afraid my guest this evening is not feeling quite herself, and I need to take her back to her room.  You will need to cancel the chateaubriand.”

The waiter failed to hide his surprise, “But sir, we have opened the Chateau Lafite.”

“We’ll take it to go.  Put it on my account.”

“Very good, sir.”  The waiter bowed slightly to cover his relief, and stepped away.

Steven slipped his slick fingers from Red’s body and with the same hand grasped her chin, turning her face to his. 

“I am curious,” he said, holding her chin firmly while he wiped one slick finger along her cheek, leaving the residue of her own arousal on her face; Red’s eyes flashed fire for a brief moment, before lowering submissively.  He grinned, then continued, “Who is it that has distracted you in the mirror since we’ve been here?”

She looked at him in surprise and her eyes widened in near panic, but she said nothing in reply.

“Would you not care to greet them as we leave?” he asked, a note of mockery in his tone.

Again Red glanced at the mirror, and it was clear she could not help the reaction. “I know no one here,” and he knew she was lying.

“My father is quite prominent in this city, you know,” he said, his voice soft and his tone feigning indifference.  “I could force you to orgasm with my fingers until you were crying out your passion, and no one here would say anything.”

“Please don’t,” she whispered, consternation written across her beautiful face.

“Why shouldn’t I?” he asked, “You just lied to me.  I’m sure I would soon find out who knows you in here, once you’re pinned across the table with my hand inside your cunt, screaming your orgasm while the other diners try to eat.”

She met his eyes with an earnest expression, as if desperate to convince him.  “Please, I beg you, there’s no one here I know, I swear it.”   Her earnest attempts to persuade him seemed so genuine, so heartfelt, that he almost believed her. 

“Then it would hardly matter to you if I do,” he said, and keeping a tight grip on her chin, his other hand dropped once more between her legs.

“No, please, Steven.”  Her face was frantic even as he slid a finger inside her, his thumb flicking over her clit.  She gasped, her hips bucking involuntarily against his hand, and her eyes yet again – always again – checked the mirror behind him.  “Please,” she let slip a small cry as he pushed deeper inside her sex, and from the corner of his eye he noticed a glance or two in their direction.  Evidently so had she.  “Please, don’t, not in public.  I’ll do anything,” she begged, “please, Steven.”

He smiled disdainfully.  “Anything?”

“Anything!” and her desperation was exquisite.

“Very well.  You are mine for tonight.”

Her eyes flicked again to the mirror behind him and whatever it was she saw clearly affected her, for as he watched her eyes widened as if in shock.  What was she looking at?  He considered asking, but first he wanted her response to his demand.  He waited, watching her expression, his words still hanging in the air.  She took a deep breath, her body seeming to shudder with the intensity of some response – whether to him or what she’d seen in the mirror he couldn’t be sure.  But then she turned her gaze to him, her eyes still wide with the intensity of her emotions and she nodded.  It was slightly jerky, abrupt almost, as if again she didn’t want to acquiesce.  But it mattered not; she’d agreed, and without a word of protest, objection, or an attempt to negotiate.

Steven smiled, amused.  The frequent glances to the mirror no longer annoyed him; rather, it felt as if whatever she’d seen in there had only helped him. 

Such had been her capitulation that he thought to push his advantage, curious as to how deep her submission ran.

“You will obey me, willingly and completely.”

He felt a thrill as she nodded again, but then her eyes looked at him with such desperation, such panic, that he was tempted – for the briefest of moments – to release her.  Yet surely that wasn’t what she really wanted?  And it certainly wasn’t what he wanted. 

“Say it,” he instructed, for he wanted there to be no doubt of their agreement, of what it was she was committing to.

Yet again she glanced at the mirror behind him, and when she answered her voice sounded wooden, disembodied, as though it was not fully hers.  “I will obey you, willingly and completely.”

Her confirmation removed what little doubt he had remaining.  “What a good little slut you are.”  He murmured to her, slipping his fingers from inside her and wiping them on her inner thigh.  She shivered most deliciously in response.  “There, that should be apparent to anyone who cares to glance at you as we walk out.”  He looked at her directly, “You are not to wipe your arousal from your leg as we leave, do you understand?”

“Yes, Steven,” her voice was timid, resigned, and he knew he had her completely.

He smiled in satisfaction and pushed himself up from his seat, watching as she followed him.  She was unable to slide along the seat without her dress rucking up, and her arousal, glistening on her skin, was most pleasing to his eyes.

His hand was low in the small of her back as he led her to the exit.  “They’ll probably only notice your wetness if they look, anyway,” he murmured reassuringly as they walked.  “I can’t imagine anyone would want to look at you in such a short dress, though, would they?”

Head after head turned to follow them as they left, and Steven smiled and walked a little taller, even as his fingers splayed down possessively over the curve of her upper ass.  He paused only long enough to accept the bottle of Chateau Lafite as they left.

Their limousine was waiting, and he held the door for her as he had before.  Red entered carefully, her knees gracefully pushed close, and Steven chuckled aloud.  It was far too late for that.

He walked around to the other side and climbed in.  “Take us back to the hotel,” he instructed the chauffeur, before turning his attention to Red.  “Did you enjoy dinner?” he inquired politely, smiling.

She glanced at him, her face blushing, then lowered her eyes.  “Yes, thank you.”

Steven turned in his chair slightly, angling himself to better see her.  “Slip your dress from your right shoulder.”

The chauffeur twitched and glanced up at the driver’s mirror, and Steven saw that Red had noticed too.  He’d clearly heard, and it amused Steven.  He watched as Red closed her eyes briefly, even as she reached up to the strap and pushed it off.  The material fell loose down her arm, and the dress bunched over her breast.  A moment later and the car jerked slightly over a road bump, and the dress fell completely, her right breast exposed to Steven’s eyes.

Her bare breast was mostly in shadow, the orange glow of the streetlights occasionally illuminating her skin, and Steven saw that her nipple was firm, hard, and straining upwards.  He reached across the gap between their seats, and flicked it with one finger.

“You have beautiful breasts,” he said softly, even as he grasped her nipple between finger and thumb, and gently pulled.

“Thank you,” she breathed, and he saw that she was chewing on her lip as she had earlier; a self-conscious gesture that seemed to express not only her discomfort but her arousal, too. 

Steven pulled a little harder, watching with pleasure as her breast stretched slightly out, and Red took a quick breath.  Her hands were tightly clasped in her lap, and even in the shadows he could see that her knuckles were white.

He rolled her nipple between finger and thumb, pulling further still, and was finally rewarded with a small whimper.

He released her and leant back in his seat, but he hadn’t given her permission to cover herself, and she made no move to do so.  Steven smiled to himself again; her submission was his to play with, and he revelled in the anticipation.

They spent the rest of the brief journey in silence: Steven watching her, Red sitting quite still with her breast exposed, staring out of the window of the car rather than looking at him.

The car slowed, then stopped.  “Your hotel, sir, madam,” came the chauffeur’s voice, and Steven knew he’d have taken the opportunity to thoroughly check the driver’s mirror. 

It seemed a night for mirrors, Steven thought, and smiled to himself.

“You may replace your strap before we go inside… unless you’d prefer not to?”

Red almost seemed to hesitate, as though she was considering it, her fingers seeming to fight her wishes to leave herself half-bared, but in the end she appeared to think better of it and slid her strap back into place, once again covering her breast.  But not for long, Steven knew.

They caught several stares as they walked across the lobby to the elevator, but Steven saw that Red held her head high and her spine was straight.  Of course, in a dress that short it was the only way to walk without flashing the bottom curves of her ass, but nevertheless it was good to see that she still had her spirit.  It would’ve been disappointing if she’d let her standards slip; part of being the elite in society meant that one needed to keep up appearances, especially when life was challenging.

The elevator was empty – unless you counted the bellboy, which Steven didn’t.  He took her into his arms as soon as the doors closed.

“Kiss me like you mean it,” he said.

Every elevator seems to have mirrors, and this one was no exception.  He almost raised an eyebrow as once more her gaze seemed to slip past him and to one side; clearly there was no one in here she knew.  He would have accused her of chronic vanity, except that she never seemed to be looking at her own direct reflection.  Perhaps it was a habit, or maybe she even had a need to constantly look over her shoulder.  Yet a moment later his thoughts were interrupted, because Red pushed herself against him, going up on her toes as she did so, and her mouth was hungrily seeking his.

Steven kissed her back, their tongues entwining as she kissed aggressively, pushing into his mouth.  He slid one hand swiftly down her back, the other needed to hold the bottle of wine.  He reached low, cupping her ass and pulling her firmly against him.  Her dress had risen up and his fingers touched bare skin; the crotchless panties only barely covered the middle of her bottom, and he growled his sudden arousal with the combined sensations. 

The ride to her floor seemed all-too brief, and as the lift smoothly came to a stop he broke the kiss.  Red seemed to press against him still, her breathing a little ragged, before slipping slightly from him and blushing.  It amused him that she had apparently lost herself in the moment, and her reaction showed that at heart she was still an innocent.  Her behaviour seemed at odds with her nature, yet that only served to make her more interesting to him.

The bellboy seemed to start as the elevator doors opened, and Steven realised the man had been more interested in Red’s ass than his job.  Red didn’t seem to notice and walked out, fishing inside her clutch for her room card as she did so.  Steven was more amused than angry, but it was one thing the clientele of Jean-Georges enjoying her aesthetic pleasures, and quite another when a mere bellboy overstepped himself.  His expression as he passed the man left him in no doubt that his attention should be elsewhere, and the bellboy straightened, swallowed nervously, and began to repeatedly push the button for the lobby.

Steven forgot about him and followed Red.  She’d reached her door and had it open as he caught up with her.

The penthouse was conservative by his standards, but still had a reasonable living space.  It opened into a seating area, and Steven set down the bottle on a convenient table as he removed his suit jacket and lay it over the back of the couch, while Red hovered nearby, suddenly showing her nervousness.

“We need something for the wine,” he suggested.

“Yes… of course.” She seemed pleased to have something to do, and it helped to break the threat of an awkward moment.  He picked up the bottle again as she found two long-stemmed glasses, and as the bottle had already been opened it was a simple matter to extract the stopper.  He poured while she held, and the dark-ruby liquid swirled into each glass.  He set down the bottle and she handed him a glass, but rather than propose a toast he simply tasted it and went to explore her rooms.

It was obvious where the bedroom was and he showed himself in.  The room was grand enough; the décor uninspiring, with a neutral theme common in hotel chains.  An array of mirrors covered the wall to one side, and to the other lay the bed.  Upon it, casually draped across as if discarded, lay a conservative, white, boring dress, and he raised an eyebrow as he saw it.  Yes, that’s what he’d been expecting, and it was curious that she’d had it all along.  Intuitively, he realised that the black dress had been an impulse purchase – perhaps even here at the hotel boutique – and it made him wonder if she’d had the crotchless panties already, or whether those too had been a recent acquisition.

He shook his head, chuckling to himself.  It seemed so out of character for her, and he couldn’t help but wonder what had spurred her sudden change of fashion.  Yet it was not in his nature to question a gift, and a gift she most certainly was.

Beyond the bed was a set of French doors, already open, with a balcony beyond.  Steven stepped out into the cool evening air, sipping his wine as he took in the view of the city.  He blinked in surprise as he saw a pair of lace panties on the floor of the balcony, and chuckled softly to himself.  So, that answers the question about her recent acquisitions.

He heard Red behind him and turned, leaning back casually against the rail as he watched her in the bedroom.  She still looked nervous, as though she didn’t know what to do with the man in her rooms, wished to ask him to leave and couldn’t find the words.  Steven smiled to himself as he watched her, realising that much of her appeal came from her apparent naivety, the conflict within her.  It was enticing.  The girl who leaves panties on her balcony floor and chooses to dress like this, instead.

Why she’d chosen those clothes was a mystery, but he still didn’t care enough to inquire. 

“Remove your dress.”

She took a steadying breath and, with the inevitable glance at the closest mirror, set her glass down. 

She slipped first one strap then the other from her shoulders, and in a moment the dress had pooled at her feet.  She stepped free of it, brushing it to one side with her foot as though she never wanted to wear it again.  Her breasts were stunning, he realised, and the crotchless panties delightfully obscene.  They framed her beautifully, transforming her from naked innocence into a slutty whore.  Her fingers slipped into the waist band in preparation to push them off, but he stopped her.

“No, leave those.  I like them.” And he did indeed; the evening would have been unlikely to follow the path it had if, in the restaurant, she’d flashed him something more conservative.  Oh, they’d probably have ended up here, even so, but not with the power dynamic they had now.

It seemed only fair to give the panties their due.

“Turn around,” he said, his tone casual yet firm.

A glance at the mirror – by now he’d have been disappointed if she hadn’t – and slowly, she turned before him.  The panties were even more revealing from the back, he realised; it was as if her ass wasn’t covered at all, and the intriguing crack between her cheeks was more on display than not. 

“Very nice,” he complimented.  “Look at me.”

She turned and obeyed, standing gorgeous before him, he on the balcony, she but mere feet away, yet still inside.

“Have you been out here?” he asked, sipping his wine, the discarded panties clear evidence that she had.

“Yes.” Her monosyllabic answers weren’t giving him the fun he desired, but there was still time for that.

“It’s pleasant view,” he said as he watched her, and smiled again as she tried to work out whether he meant her or the city.

“Yes,” she said again, her voice unsure.

He brushed her discarded panties with his shoe, a deliberate act that drew her attention.  “Naked?” he asked, teasingly.

She hesitated, a sudden blush infusing her pale skin as her eyes were drawn to the evidence of her previous indiscretion.  “Yes.”

Steven raised an eyebrow.  Who’d have thought she was an exhibitionist?  It was one thing to find discarded undergarments, but another to hear her confirm it.  Yet still he hadn’t got the rise he’d sought.  Something more was needed.

“Ever been fucked on a balcony?”

She glanced at him, and her answer was wary.  “No…”

“Would you like to be?”  Another sip of his wine as he watched her reaction.

He saw her open her mouth as if to reply, then she paused and looked directly into the mirror beside her.  For a long moment she seemed to just stare at it, and he wondered if she was even going to answer him.  But as he waited, Red’s hands began to touch her own body; one slid up over her stomach, coming to cup her own breast.  The other slipped between her legs, her fingers lightly stroking herself. 

Steven swallowed, mesmerised as she put on a show for him.  Was this her way of answering him?  If it was, then damn… it was a good answer.  He stepped quickly back into the room, his wine glass now an encumbrance he no longer desired.  A table just inside the door provided the solution.

Red was a vision to behold; she seemed transfixed by her own reflection, the hand on her breast now pinching her own nipple, while with the one between her legs she spread herself open.  Yet it was her face that captivated him, for one moment she seemed lost in her own pleasure, and the next she seemed almost scared.

“Red?” he asked softly.

She looked at him suddenly, her expression wrought with her conflict.  “Please….”

He took a step closer.  “Please what?”

She didn’t reply, but he saw such yearning in her face.  Her hand was still moving between her legs, and it drew his eyes.  Her fingers were rubbing either side of her clit, not quite touching, as if she was delighting in torturing herself.

He took another step forward, and now they were mere inches apart.  He raised one hand to her face, laying his palm against her cheek, and immediately she pushed into it, nuzzling against his hand, whimpering softly against him.

He closed the distance between them, his other hand coming up to fully cup her face.  Between them, her hand still moved over her pussy, and it was obvious how wet she was.   The fingers on her nipple twisted, pulled, and another whimper slipped out.

“I’m going to take you and make you mine,” he murmured, his own arousal pushing at his self-control.

“I know you will, I’ve seen it,” she whispered, and her body trembled before him. 

Steven glanced at her curiously, trying to interpret her comment as figurative, but it seemed oddly specific.  Yet it was easier to dismiss it for the moment – he had other things on his mind.  He pulled her hands from her with his, pushing them behind her back, holding them and using them to tug her against him, and his mouth came down over hers.  She moaned her passion beneath his kiss, her body pushing against him, held by him but pushed by her, her breasts crushed to his chest, her mouth open to him, her tongue licking desperately at his. 

He released her hands to reach for the buttons of his shirt, but it wasn’t fast enough for her.  She simply took a side in each hand and pulled, and the shirt ripped open, buttons flying free, some clattering against the mirror near them.

Her mouth was on his bare chest, kissing, licking, and as she did so her hands dropped to his belt, tugging it loose.  He pulled the shirt from his shoulders, stripped it from his arms and let it fall to the floor, and she had his belt open and his buttons undone.  She dropped to her knees before him, her small fingers working to pull down his zipper and push his suit pants open.

“I know this is what you want,” she whispered as if to herself, but he heard her clearly in the quiet of the room.  Yet she was right; perhaps it was that obvious, but he couldn’t deny she was right.  “You’re going to come in my throat,” and his cock twitched violently as he heard her words.

She yanked down his clothes, boxers too, and his cock sprang free, at last released from its constraints.  Immediately, Red’s mouth was on him, and Steven gasped at the warmth and wetness she offered.  Her hands slid behind him to his naked ass, and she pulled him deeper into her.  He shuddered with pleasure as her throat opened to him, her tongue sliding against him, the feel of her lips sucking him into her.  Red drew back slowly, licking him all the while, before taking a breath and once more driving herself forward onto his manhood.

Steven instinctively fisted his hands in her hair, the hunger with which she pleasured him too intense for a more compassionate reaction.  He pulled her against him, aided by her fingers digging into his ass cheeks, and he groaned aloud as again her throat enveloped him.  In a moment of clear thought, he marvelled at her skills; how could such an apparently inexperienced girl perform as she was?  But as she drove forward until her lips were once more against his groin, her throat squeezing him with a pleasure he’d rarely experienced, all coherent thought was driven from him, and he could only shudder in the ecstasy of it.

Red slipped off him, a trail of her saliva making his hardness slick, and as she wrapped her hand around him her tongue licked down to his balls.  She looked up at him as she pleasured him with her mouth, any doubt or reluctance completely gone from her eyes; now her only desire was to please him, and she seemed to revel in it.

“God, the taste of you,” she murmured against him, her voice laced with her wanton hunger, but too it sounded as if she was surprised, as if she couldn’t understand the strength of her need for him.  She looked up at him, her eyes meeting his for a brief moment, and before he had a chance to react she had taken him into her mouth once more. 

She was so eager, so enthusiastic, and her mouth was so soft, willing and wet, her throat so tight about him.  Steven felt his climax nearing, his urge to fill her mouth with his seed, and while he might have hesitated, might have sought to save himself for a while longer, Red seemed insistent; her one-handed grip on his ass hadn’t loosened; rather, her fingers were pushing more towards its centre, and his hips bucked involuntarily against her mouth as she slid a fingertip down his crack. 

“…Fuck…” he gasped, his hands bracing himself against her head, his cock twitching once more in her throat.  She hadn’t even gagged, he realised; it was as if she was possessed with the single-minded desire of sucking his cum from him, and it was all he could do to control himself long enough to prolong the pleasure.  Red’s mouth was incredible; an experience unlike he had ever known before, and he was quickly passing the point of no return.   It seemed redundant to warn her; hadn’t she told him already she wanted his cum in her throat?  He closed his eyes, his head thrown back in ecstasy, and with a grunt he erupted into her mouth. 

Red sucked and swallowed, swirling her tongue around him, and then he felt her shudder too beneath his hands.  She was moaning around him even as he filled her mouth with his seed, and he realised that, remarkably, she was also in the throes of orgasm.  The simple act of pleasuring him had driven her to her own peak, and they came together as again he spurted into her mouth.

Steven opened his eyes, looking down at her in wonder as she continued to lap at him.  She had swallowed all he had given her without spilling any, and now her hand squeezed his shaft firmly, as if she was trying to milk every last drop of his cum.  Her tongue lapped against the head of him and it was almost too sensitive, almost too much to bear, but she seemed to sense it and lapped more softly, licking the tip of him.

She shivered with her own pleasure a final time as she extracted all that she could from his cock, and he looked down at her with amazement, unable to believe his own senses.

“Did you just come sucking my cock?”

She looked up at him, his manhood still held in one small hand, her faced pressed against the underside of him, and even despite what she’d just done, and the position she was in, she still managed to blush. 

“I… I guess.”  She placed a kiss on the side of his shaft, her eyes closed and her lips and tongue working together, and it was the most sensual, loving kiss he’d ever received.  “You taste so amazing,” she murmured, “I love it,” and again he got the impression she was talking more to herself than to him.

Steven took a step back, grateful that the bed was so close behind him, and sat down heavily, his legs suddenly weak.  He paused for a moment, taking a breath, before pulling his clothing from his legs and dropping it to the side.

Red crawled forward, nestling between his knees, her face once more pushed up against his groin, and slowly she began to lick at him again.  It was as if she couldn’t get enough of his taste, as if something was driving her to wallow in his every essence.

“That was incredible,” he said, watching her, and she smiled up at him from between his legs, even as her hand rubbed gently along his shaft, and her lips and tongue kissed him wherever she could reach.

“I need to lie down!” he chuckled, and shifted further back on the bed, shoving the discarded, white dress carelessly to the floor as he did so.  He turned, lying prone with a sigh, his eyes closed.  He felt Red crawl onto the bed beside him, one hand resting lightly on the back of his thigh.  “I’m certainly not done with you yet, but give me a minute.  Or five.”

Steven felt her push against him, the delight of her soft breasts as she rubbed them over his back, and then her lips kissed gently at the back of his neck.

“That’s nice,” he said, relaxing beneath her touch.

Red slid over him, her breasts pushing into his back, her hips against his butt.  He felt her moist sex rub over his ass, leaving his skin slightly damp.  It was not unpleasant.  She kissed his shoulders, lips and tongue working in unison to leave a trail of pleasing, damp kisses across his skin.  She licked softly across to his spine and placed more kisses on either side.  Each time, she would press her lips to his skin then lick gently with her tongue, and the combined effect was more than any kiss or lick he’d enjoyed before.  He wondered why no one else had done that to him.

She seemed to be trailing her kisses lower, he realised, as her breasts rubbed enticingly over his ass.  It was enough for his cock to begin to stir again, and it had only been a minute or two.

Steven felt her hands on his buttocks, her breasts now pushing against his legs.  Her kisses trailed down to the small of his back, a trail of wet licks following after.

“What are you doing?” he muttered.

“I can’t help it,” she breathed against his skin, “I have to taste you.  All of you.”

The tone of need in her voice should perhaps have concerned him; it seemed too strong for the situation, too out-of-character for Red’s upbringing and expected behaviour.  But Steven was enjoying it too much to stop her.

Her mouth reached his butt, licking and kissing along the curve of his ass cheeks, and occasionally she would punctuate her kisses with little sounds of pleasure.  Steven felt her small hands push against his cheeks, and her tongue began to explore the cleft between.  His hips twitched beneath her.

“Oh fuck, Red…”

“Please don’t make me stop,” and her quiet words of desperation were muffled against him, her mouth not leaving his skin as she spoke.  Her tongue licked firmly, probing his ass, and Steven let out a shuddering breath.

“Don’t stop.”

She mewled with pleasure at his permission, and her tongue immediately drove deeper, her hands pushing his cheeks apart.  She licked long, slow strokes, the wetness of her mouth making the crack of his ass slick, then she pushed against his hole with the tip of her tongue, and he felt it wriggle part-way inside.

“…God…” he gasped, his hips involuntarily pushing back against her mouth, lost in the pleasure of the sensations she was creating.  Deeper still her tongue probed while her hands massaged his ass, and Steven pushed his face into the bed, his hips raised, the pleasure almost a torture. 

Red moaned again and again as he felt her tongue caress and explore him, and her breath began to come in pants against his damp skin.  Then her moans gradually increased in pitch, her licking growing wilder, and with a final cry he felt her body tremble against him.  Her licking slowed as Steven released his own shuddering breath.

“Did you just come?” he asked in disbelief, his voice slightly muffled by the bed.  Perhaps she’d been touching herself as she licked him, he thought… but no, that couldn’t have been; both her hands had been on his ass.

“I… I couldn’t help it,” she said, her voice sounding small and embarrassed.

He reached down for her, finding a hand, pulling her up to lie beside him on the bed.  She lay on her side, facing him, her face flushed with her recent orgasm, her chest still heaving as she breathed heavily.  Her breasts were tinged red with a blush, and her nipples were hard, pointed nubs.

He stared at her.  “You lick my ass like your life depends on it and come while doing so, and you… couldn’t help it?”

“The… the mirror made me do it,” she said, blushing deeply, unable to meet his gaze.

“The mirror made you do it?” he asked, half amused and half incredulous.

Red nodded, her eyes still lowered.  Steven reached for her, lifting her chin with one finger until he could see her face.  “Is it going to make you do anything else?” he asked, teasingly.

“Yes,” she whispered, and reached for him. 

Steven let her pull him over her, her legs opening beneath him, her hands sliding around his back to hold him against her.  Though it hadn’t been long since she’d made him come in her mouth, her tongue in his ass, the pleasure she’d given him, and the feeling of her orgasming against him had driven his arousal, and he was hard where he pressed against her open wetness.

“I need you inside me,” and again her voice held a note of desperation.

“You’re a little nympho, aren’t you?” he muttered, rubbing himself against her.

“It’s… it’s not me…” she gasped, arching her back, “it’s the mirror….”

He didn’t really understand her game, but that didn’t matter.  She was naked and wet and welcoming, and oh so eager for him.  She reached down between them, taking him in her hand, and they gasped together as she fed him into her waiting sex. 

Steven relished her enthusiasm, the way that with every act she performed she held nothing back.  It was like she had no inhibitions, as though she was drunk on… something.  But he was beyond questioning, and all he wanted to do was drive his hips forward into her. 

She cried out her pleasure as he filled her, and she was so wet, so aroused, that he slipped in easily.  Yet the silken walls of her pussy gripped him tightly and immediately clenched about him.  She shuddered beneath him and her channel clenched again; he realised to his amazement that she had come as soon as he’d entered her.  Her head was pushed back against the bed in rapture, her eyes closed, her lips slightly parted with her ragged breathing, and she clutched desperately to him with both her arms and legs, wrapping her limbs around him as he slowly fucked her.

The only sounds were those of their lovemaking: her high-pitched whimpers with each thrust he made, his grunts of effort to push into the tightly-gripping walls of her cunt. 

She gasped for breath beneath him, sobbing, almost to herself, “It’s too much, it’s too much… no…” but she never relented in her grip on him, and he could only watch in wonder as she experienced yet another, explosive orgasm.

Steven held himself deeply within her as her body trembled beneath him in the aftermath of her climax, her pussy flooding with wetness yet still sending pleasurable after-tremor clenches around him.

It was the best sex Steven had ever had, and he wanted to experience all she had to offer.  He knew he’d never get another chance at a night like this.  He slipped from her and pushed himself to his knees, looking down at her.  She lay open to his eyes, her arms lying loosely against the bed, her milky skin red about her throat and neck and down over her flushed breasts.  He had rarely seen anything so beautiful; it was a shame she was so… odd.

“Turn over,” he said, as he pushed himself off the bed.  He had an idea of how to finish the evening, to make it as memorable as he could.

Slowly, she rolled on to her belly, extending both her legs and arms out, lying diagonally across the bed.  Her perfect ass wiggled at him, and she turned her head to her side so that she could see him.  “You could use the ties from the guest robes in the bathroom.”

Steven blinked in surprise.  How could she possibly have known what he’d been thinking…?

“…Thank you,” he said hesitantly, and walked naked into the bathroom.  She watched him, lying perfectly still, waiting for him to do what he wished with her.

Steven shook his head.  It was eerie how she had guessed what he’d had in mind, but perhaps it was nothing more than shared lust.  It took him but a moment to find the guest robes and pull their ties free of their loops.  He’d intended to simply tie her up and fuck her from behind, but she’d anticipated it.  He looped the ties in his hands as he considered how he could up the ante.

Her ass drew his eyes immediately when he walked back into the bedroom; two perfectly-shaped curves either side of that wonderfully intriguing crevice.  He smiled to himself as he changed his plans.  She’d anticipated him tying her, fine… but she would still be helplessly his, restrained, and somehow Steven didn’t think Red was the kind of girl who’d had her ass fucked too often.  Yes, perhaps that would make her evening more memorable.

The belts from the guest robes were too thick to be truly effective, and she’d be able to struggle free eventually, but they would do to give the illusion of imprisonment.  Besides, if she tried to escape he would be easily able to restrain her – not that he would, and not that he expected her to, either.  She’d been so into everything that it was hard to imagine she’d resist this. 

Steven tied her wrists tightly, looping the rest of the belt around the headboard and securing it.

“I like it when you tie me,” she murmured, sounding peaceful and relaxed. 

“Have you ever been tied up before?” he asked as he moved down the bed, laying one ankle over the other and looping another belt around both.

“No.  But I knew I would like it.”

“Because the mirror said you would?” he asked, teasingly.

“Yes, exactly,” she replied.  He shook his head, laughing softly.  “You don’t believe me.  I wouldn’t expect you to.”  But she didn’t sound offended.  It was more as if she didn’t believe it herself – but if she wanted an excuse to indulge in some sexual liberation, she could go right ahead as far as Steven was concerned.

He finished and stood straight, looking down at her: ankles and wrists tied securely, naked save for the crotchless panties that had served as his inspiration all evening.  And now they would again, for her ass was mostly bare.  Perfect.

“Now then, my little Red, I’m going to fuck your ass.”

“What?!” she sounded surprised for the first time in the evening, and he smiled his delight.

“Have you ever had your ass fucked?” he gently traced a fingertip down the cleft between her cheeks, and her hips twitched at his touch.

“No!  And… you can’t… the mirror didn’t show me that.”

“Hmm.  Well.  Does the mirror show you everything?” he patted her ass reassuringly.

“Yes!” she paused, “Well… maybe.  I… I guess I don’t know,” she sounded hesitant for the first time.

Steven grasped her cheeks in each hand slowly, deliberately spreading her open.  She whimpered delightfully.  “Why don’t you ask it?  You can see from there, can’t you?”

Red turned her head and glanced at the mirror, and Steven used the opportunity to spit a glob of saliva between her open cheeks.

“Oh no!  It tricked me!” he heard her say, and he smiled to himself as he sucked his finger, making it wet, before pushing the tip of it against her asshole.

“What did the mirror say?” he inquired politely, as he pushed his finger into her, penetrating her.

“It… it said…” she moaned, pushing her face into the bed.

Steven slid his finger in past her ring, stretching her virgin ass.  He could hardly wait to be inside her.  “Yes?”

She pushed her ass back up against his finger, helping him to penetrate her, even as her face buried more into the bed.

Steven slipped his finger from her, and brought his hand down on her ass with a hard slap.  “What did it say, Red?” he demanded.  He still didn’t understand her fascination with mirrors, but he knew that if it worked for her, it was only to his benefit.  He was quite happy to play along.

She gasped at the smack, “It said… it said I have to….”

Steven smiled again, hearing the desperation in her voice, and again his hand came down firmly on her up-turned ass.  “Tell me,” and his tone would brook no dissent.

She sobbed into the bedding.  “It said I have to… beg you to… fuck my ass.” She paused for a long, shuddering breath, and Steven was about to reply before she continued, “I have to… push back against you… and…” she sobbed again, but it turned into a moan of arousal, and her hips bucked beneath his hand, “…and it’s going to make me… come when you enter me… and… and… come again when you finish inside me!”  She ended with a wail of shame, muffled into the bedding, but her ass rose of its own accord and pressed up against his hand.

Steven was slightly taken aback.  It would’ve been amusing if she hadn’t seemed so… serious.   Yet, it was also as arousing as fuck, and… well… if that’s what she wanted.  “If that’s what the mirror said… do we have a choice?”

“No!” she cried, “No… there’s never any choice,” and she sounded bitter.

His finger slipped from inside her bottom.  “I don’t have to do this if you don’t want me to.”

“No!” she cried again, turning her head to look at him.  “You must!  Please!”

Steven felt his face harden.  “I must?” and his tone was dangerously cold.

Red glanced at the mirror in panic, and then back at him.  “I’m so sorry… of course you mustn’t…” she gazed up at him entreatingly.  “What I meant to say is… please… I beg you… please will you fuck my ass?  I want it so much.  Please… spank me, fuck me, please, Steven!”  She lifted her delectable butt up towards him as she begged, and he had to admit she was difficult to resist.

Still, he was tempted to refuse her anyway, just to be a sadistic bastard, but then he remembered her words: It’s going to make me come when you enter me.  And suddenly he just wanted to see if that would happen.

“Very well,” he acquiesced.  It was strange, to be begged by a beautiful girl to fuck her ass, and to hesitate for a moment as to whether or not to say ‘yes’.  Not a problem he’d anticipated having when he’d woken up that morning.

“Oh, thank you, thank you!” she was so piteously grateful.

Steven realised his ardour had cooled somewhat when she’d told him what to do.  He still had wood, but it was more pine than mahogany.  He slipped his hand into her hair, and drew her head to him.  “Make me hard with your mouth, little slut of mine.”

“Yes…” she responded eagerly, and opened her mouth for him.  He pushed into her, and she licked and sucked with the enthusiasm he’d come to expect from her.  He grew fully hard quickly, but her mouth was so pleasurable it was difficult to withdraw.  He pushed into her throat with a groan, and reached down and slapped her ass hard as he did so.

She mmm’d around him, looking up with grateful adoration in her eyes, and her ass wiggled invitingly under his hand.

Steven stepped back, his cock slipping reluctantly from her lips.  He slipped his hand between her legs, coating his fingers in the excess of her own wetness, and spread it up over her ass.  “Are you ready to have your ass fucked?”

“Please, yes!  Please…” Red arched her back, her head falling forward and her ass rising.  Steven had to admit it was one of the most temptingly erotic sights he’d even seen, especially with her wrists and ankles bound so.

“Do you have any lotion?”

“Hmm?” Her confusion was obvious and he couldn’t help but chuckle; evidently she wasn’t lying when she’d said she’d never had her ass fucked. 

He quickly found what he needed in the bathroom, a bottle of massage oil that would suit perfectly, and when he walked into the bedroom she wiggled her ass at him in anticipation.

He moved to sit astride her, one knee on either side, and up-ended the bottle over her crack.  The oil dripped slowly onto her, viscous and slick, and she gasped softly at the sensation.  He dropped the bottle and rubbed the head of his cock through the folds of her vulva.  She was so wet he was quickly coated, and he slid it on up to her waiting asshole.

She was so unbelievably tight as he pushed in that he had to force his way, and she sobbed piteously into the sheets as he did so.  Yet she pushed back also, and soon the tip of him had pushed past the ring of her sphincter.  He leaned forward with his hips, sliding into the tightness of her ass, his cock feeling wrapped and squeezed from all sides.  He closed his eyes to revel in the sensations, slowly releasing a pent-up breath of exertion.

“Oh… oh…” her gasps were little noises rapidly increasing in pitch, and her hips pushed back as hard as she could as if to get more of him inside her, but his hips were already tight against her ass cheeks.  He felt her body tense beneath him, her gasps turning to whimpers, and her ass clenched tightly around him as her whole body shuddered beneath his.  She moaned deeply with the pleasure of her orgasm, pushing her hips back against him even as she came.

Steven had been sceptical, but there was no way someone could fake the involuntary muscle clenches that her orgasm had brought about.  Though it was hard to believe, she’d climaxed simply from him fully penetrating her ass… her virgin ass for that matter… just as she’d said she would.

As the mirror had told her to, he reminded himself with a shake of the head.  She was clearly crazy… which was a great shame, because she was as hot as fuck.

Slowly, Steven began to rock his hips against her, withdrawing a little then pushing back in.  Each time, Red moaned deeply and her hips writhed beneath him with pleasure.  He couldn’t help but feel envious; whatever else, he’d lost count of the number of orgasms Red had had, and each one had evidently been massive.  But it was his turn to take his pleasure now, and as he lay full-length over her, his hands gripped her upper arms for leverage.

Steven began to fuck her ass in earnest, driving his cock into her.  In his experience, anal required a gentle, cautious start – but none of his previous lovers had orgasmed in the first three seconds.  Fuck it, he thought, and fuck her too – and he drove into her with all the strength he had.

Red cried out with each thrust beneath him, her hips bucking with the strength of his attack, but whether it hurt her or not, she pushed back wantonly against him, just as she’d promised she would.  Her cries turned to sobs the more he fucked her, then her sobs turned to whimpers.  But she felt so good beneath him, so silken and tight around him, that he didn’t want to stop.   Couldn’t stop. 

His breath became ragged as he felt the pressure build in his balls, and his hips slapped noisily into her ass with each thrust forward.  With a cry Steven released his control, and jets of hot sperm shot into her waiting, welcoming ass.  Red immediately cried out in echo, and her body shuddered beneath him as her own orgasm reached its peak.  Her ass tightened around him, milking him, and he collapsed over her, his hips pressed hard against hers.

For a long moment they simply lay there, waiting for their hearts to stop racing and their breathing to calm.

“Thank you,” Red whispered, and Steven wasn’t entirely sure whether she was speaking to him or the mirror.

He slid off her, slipping from her, and walked to the bathroom.  It would do her no harm to be left tied up for a while.

Steven ran a lukewarm shower and stepped beneath it, reflecting on the intensity of the evening he’d experienced.  Red was, without a doubt, the most incredible of girls.  It was regretful, really, that she was just a little bit too crazy to consider as relationship material.  His father would be disappointed but not, Stephen realised with a sigh, as disappointed as Stephen was himself.  He hadn’t expected to fall for her – it was just sex, after all – but something about her vulnerability, her innocence, and, in no small part, her voracious sexual appetite, made her incredibly desirable.

Yet it wasn’t realistic, and he knew that.  He would bid her a fond farewell, and perhaps look forward to her next visit to this area.  New York was a long way away, but from time to time he made it over there too.  There were future possibilities.  And who knew?  Perhaps they could stay friends.  Friends with benefits.

He smiled to himself.  The benefits were certainly very nice.

Steven walked out of the bathroom, still damp from his shower.  Red was a picture, lying still on the bed.  Her head rested on her arm, her hair was matted with sweat. Her body had the freshly-fucked look that Steven found quite attractive, and his cum was leaking from her ass, trickling down to her aroused, swollen pussy.

It was too good an opportunity to miss, and he took a small detour to collect his phone from his jacket.

“Red,” he said as he walked back in, and she opened her eyes and turned her head to look at him.

He pressed the photo button on his phone and it delivered a most satisfying click.

“I know you don’t remember meeting Alfie,” he said, “I’d hate for you to forget this too.  Now I have a memoir I can send you if you need it.”

“That’s a good idea,” she said testily, only now testing the bonds on her wrists and glaring at him, “because the evening has been pretty forgettable so far.”

He chuckled as he examined the picture on his phone.  Yes, he could see both her face and her recently-fucked ass.  He made sure it was safely uploaded to the cloud, and then wondered if it was too early to untie her.

*

The flight back to New York had been smooth enough; first class helped, though Red did hate waiting with the general population.  Daddy was using the plane though, so it was either fly commercial or stay another week in the hotel.

Red’s mind flitted back to the hotel room.  To Steven, more specifically.  She still couldn’t quite believe what she’d done, what the mirror had made her do.  But she couldn’t deny she’d enjoyed it.  It had been probably the most fulfilling sexual experience of her life, and she pushed her thighs together as she remembered it.

Their goodbye had been a little awkward; he’d almost spent the night before deciding, in the end, to leave.  She’d been relieved, though she’d immediately missed him too.  She’d felt so vulnerable afterwards that she’d sat in the bottom of the shower and cried, hugging her knees to her chest.  At least down there, she was out of sight of the mirror.

The mirror… was a problem.  And yet, everything she’d done – everything it had made her do – had been an amazing, life-changing experience.  Embarrassing, shameful, degrading, yes – but amazing none the less.  The mirror had made her into… what had Steven called her?... a nympho and a slut.  What scared her was that it was her reflection, and perhaps the mirror was simply reflecting who she really was. 

But she’d enjoyed every minute of it, hadn’t she?  She’d certainly come enough times, and with orgasms better than she could ever remember having… prior.

She caught a cab back to her apartment and the concierge helped her with her bags.  She hadn’t kept the black dress in the end.  Or the crotchless panties.  She’d briefly considered keeping the latter for the memories, but they weren’t in a great state by the time Steven had finished with her. 

Her apartment was as she’d left it – large, tastefully decorated, opulent, safe… save for the large mirror above her mantel, visible as soon as she entered.  She glanced at her reflection as she entered, and it showed only a slightly anxious, slightly more experienced girl looking back.  Red tipped the concierge and closed the door behind him, sliding the locks in place.

She pulled off her travelling clothes, leaving them where they fell, and headed to the shower.  Afterwards, she slipped naked into her bed, enjoying the feel of crisp, clean sheets against her skin.  She usually slept in a camisole and panties, but she was too tired to bother.  Besides, it was nice to sleep nude.  Perhaps that would be her preference from now on.

Sleep came quickly.

*

Red was awakened by the dual-toned chime of her doorbell, and sat up with a start.  She wasn’t expecting visitors, was she?  A quick glance showed it was later that same afternoon, and she was sure she had nothing in her calendar for the remainder of the day.  But she hadn’t intended to sleep for long anyway, so it was a convenient excuse to rouse herself.

She slipped her silk kimono over her nudity and padded through the apartment to her door just as the bell rang again.

“I’m coming,” she muttered.

She flicked back the locks, one by one, a small frown creasing her brow.  Not just anyone could gain entrance to this building – they had to get past the front desk below, and it was manned 24/7.  Perhaps it was just the concierge, delivering a package.

Red opened her door a little, not wishing to show more than she needed while wearing only a thin robe and nothing else. 

A pleasant-looking woman stood on her threshold.  She was quite a lot older than Red, perhaps in her early 40s, about the same height but carrying a few extra pounds.  She was dressed smartly enough in a professional-looking suit, though the clothes weren’t expensive.

Red opened the door a little wider.  “Yes?”

The woman smiled slowly, as if enjoying something.  “Don’t you recognise me, Red?”

Red blinked twice, then her hand flew to her mouth in surprise.  It was the woman from the house.  The estate agent.  It took her a moment to remember the name.  “Anne!  What are you doing here?”