Chapter 64 – Mal treats Paris

For several long moments Mal and I lie like that, me on my knees and chest between his legs, him sitting upright against the headrest, his softening cock in both of my fists, as we both breathe hard and catch our breath. I can still feel the hot lava of Mal’s cum trails on my back when he sighs, grips me under my arms, and pulls me up his body until we’re face to face.

The combination of Mal’s demonstration of careful strength and the feeling of his cock sliding down my body from my chest to my panties pushes me even further into that happy submissive mental place I was. Whether he intended it or not, Mal just showed me clearly that as much as I may choose to do or not do for him, it’s at his leisure. It’s his choice what I do or don’t do. That thought is sealed as Mal’s arms wrap around me and his lips seal over mine in a passionate kiss.

I simply melt into Mal’s arms, unsure if I could put up any resistance and even unsure if I’d want to put up any resistance at this point. Being here in his arms, in his control, just feels right.

After Mal has had his way kissing me for however long he wants, I’ve long ago lost track of time, he slides out from under me and lies me on my belly, positioning the pillow under my cheek. It’s not the most comfortable position as it’s putting to much weight on my new breasts, but it’s better than turning and wallowing in the cum that Mal has striped me with. A few moments later Mal returns. His hand on my rising head pushes me gently back to laying on the pillow, staring at his swinging soft cock, as he uses a warm wet cloth to clean up my back.

The bitter part of me, still there but so small and so quiet in the back of my head, demands that he’s doing that because HE doesn’t want his cum all over his bed. But the part of me that willingly performed a striptease for him, willingly disrobed him, and willingly put on a long-drawn-out pleasurable hand job for him, thinks it’s more likely that he knows I don’t want his cum on me. That he’s taking care of me.

When he’s finished, Mal kisses the back of my neck, drops the cloth to the floor and hops over me into bed. It takes a little moving but soon we’re both under the covers, with Mal lying on his back. Where I’d normally lie on my side, facing away from Mal, leaving as large a gap between us as possible, it just feels right to be closer to him right now. So, instead I turn on my side and scootch next to Mal, wrapping my arm around his chest, laying my leg over his, and resting my head on his chest. His arm seems to naturally find its way around to hug me closer and I feel his lips on the top of my head as I hear his weary voice, “g’night hun”

I’m almost off to sleep myself when I snap awake with a realization. Ever since Mal found he can finger me to orgasm, our date nights have ended with that. We get back to the apartment, I quickly get him off either in the sitting room or the bedroom, we prep for bed, then he positions me where he wants me, over his lap, facing the end of the bed, on my back with my legs bent up over my shoulders, and proceeds to rip an unwelcome orgasm from my body.

But not this time. And he’s already asleep. Satisfied. Seemingly happy. Can I avoid having him **** that pleasure out of me by simply pleasing him more? Being a better girl for him?

The emotional ride to get to this point is too much and I drift into slumber again, this time staying asleep until my internal clock gets me up in time to prep for work. I find that I’m a little stiff but only because neither Mal nor I moved at all while we slept. It was as if the position we found ourselves in was too perfectly comfortable to roll out of, which is strange as neither of us normally sleep in those positions.

As I didn’t follow my evening pre-bed routine, it takes me a little longer to get ready, but I still get out to the kitchen in time for Marie to hand me a cup of coffee and share some gossip. When Mal comes out, he’s on his phone and makes hard eye contact with me. I immediately snap into work mode, secretary mode, and listen to him carefully, “No that’s fine Barry, we can make that work. I’ll bring my secretary Paris along as she’ll have the numbers at the ready should we need them. And in fact, I’ll make sure Nica joins us as well as I’m sure she’d love to say hello. Seven o’clock? At The Albert? We’ll meet you there.”

Bring me for ‘the numbers’, speaking to ‘Barry’, bringing his wife, all for an unexpected last minute breakfast meeting. I pull out my laptop and confirm that Mal’s private attorney is Bartholomew Blackwood the third and that Mal and Nica had put their Miami vacation home up for sale. I bring up the quick spreadsheets I’d made of property values in the area, the initial purchase price Mal had bought it for six years ago, and the improvements they’d made since. My research says they shouldn’t take less than a clean one point five million, giving them almost a half million in pure profit.

With everything ready, I grab up my purse and make sure Mal knows I’m ready whenever he is since the Albert is normally a ten-minute car drive, but during morning rush that could easily turn into a half hour and it’s fifteen after six already. Mal hates being late and I’d have had him on his way by six if I’d set this up.

Mal is all business on the trip to the restaurant and we’re seated quickly. I see that it might be a bigger party than I thought as it’s a bigger table than the four of us would need. My suspicion proves correct as our breakfast meeting ends up including Mal, myself, Barry, Barry’s assistant, Nica, their realtor and the realtor’s assistant. Over breakfast, everyone enjoying huge portions of pancakes or eggs benedict and me barely touching my egg white omelet, they have a video call with the realtor and buyer in Dade County and settle on a final sale price. I can’t help but grin as Mal set the price as such that after he pays Barry and all the fees on his end, he’ll end up with exactly two million dollars. One million in profit. After I’d told him to hold out for one point five million, I found out that Nica had wanted to sell it for their first offer of one million and Mal vowed he’d double that. Mission accomplished.

After the deal is done and they get out the stack of papers for Mal and Nica to sign I put my laptop away and settle back in my seat as my part of this business deal is done and I’m full from the little bit I’ve eaten. I don’t think much of it when I feel Mal’s hand gently land on my knee under the table. With as many lunch and dinner meetings as I’ve been at with him, I realize that this is just an indication that he’s bored. And it’s perfectly understandable here. While I’ve never had the opportunity to go through a purchase of property, I’ve heard about the nightmare of signatures required even for a simple sale.

I turn and grin at Mal briefly as his fingers start to flex and dance, slowly moving up my thigh. With the long thick white table clothes no one could see his hand intimately touching me unless they ducked under the table, and right now everybody is focused on the business at hand. But where I expect to see Mal looking either forward at the other guests or down at the paperwork in front of him, he’s instead turned just enough so that his eyes can look directly at me. To most people his face would be impassive. Even dour. But I can see that slight hook of a grin. That little extra wrinkle at the corner of his eye. For Mal, in public, doing business, this is the equivalent of him smiling broadly and laughing out loud.

Then he winks at me.

As he leans past me to hand a signed paper to Barry, he whispers at me, so quiet that even I can barely hear it, “I almost forgot your new prosthetic. Time for my girl to have her fun. Just keep it quiet!”

As Mal leans the other way, gathering up the next paper to sign from Nica, his hand moves further up my thigh. The fact that I was wearing my pink plaid pleated high-waisted mini skirt meant he was easily able to slip it out of the way and start tapping his fingers over the front of my panties. My hand’s suddenly clench as the motion hits the exact right area and spikes my pleasure.

Turning to look more directly at Mal, I see no indication of what he’s doing. He looks like he’s resting in a relaxed position, paying attention to the conversations going on around him, signing the paperwork, and not paying any attention to me whatsoever. My eyes dart to everyone at the table, but no one seems to notice or even be paying attention. Though as I almost snap the fluted orange juice glass in my hand with Mal’s still strumming fingers, I realize that may well change.

Having Mal finger me to orgasm is one thing. Having him tease me with it, drag it out, is another thing. But doing it here? In public? Of course HE can do it without even making a face, but how can he expect me to not show signs of sexual pleasure to his attorney, his realtor, their assistants, and his WIFE!?

Gently, I set the glass down so that I don’t risk knocking it over, snapping its thin stem, or worse pouring it out on one of the guests. Trying to control their shaking, I start drawing my hands toward me and get them under the table to physically stop Mal. But as he passes another signed paper to Barry he flicks right over my ‘clit’ making me practically jump in my seat and again whispers ever so quietly “tsk tsk tsk, keep your hands on the table Paris.”

I briefly consider keeping up my plan of attack as what else could he possibly do? As my hands reach the end of the table, however, I stop and simply fold them over one another as I realize that question is the problem. What COULD he do? I’m not sure I want to know the answer to that.

Instead, I focus on breathing evenly even though my chest is occasionally heaving with held in whimpers and moans. All breathing right now is being done through my nose as I’m actively biting the inside of my cheeks just to keep my lips sealed and quiet. As a last resort I try pressing my thighs together and for a moment, it works as I’ve trapped Mal’s hands between them. Yes, he’s still touching my pussy prosthetic, but he’s now unable to strum or caress me there.

For nearly a minute I think I’ve finally come out on top, until I feel Mal’s fancy leather wingtip shoe cross over my ankle and pull my leg open. Mal’s foot leaves that ankle only to press against my other and push it aside, opening my legs obscenely wide and giving him full access to my pleasure zone again. This time as he passes the signed paper his whisper is said more urgently and more jokingly, “Stay. Don’t make me tie you up!”

My eyes widen in shock as my legs seem to freeze open. I can’t imagine how he could find a way to non-suspiciously lean under the table to tie my ankles to the chair legs, but just like wondering what else he could do, I’m not sure if I want to find out if or how he could do it.

To make matters more urgent, Mal utilizes his newfound pussy freedom by not only resuming his petting and caressing, but by slipping his fingers inside my panties and touching my prosthetic directly. I can barely keep my body still, and even then, I can’t stop the occasional pleasured jerk as I feel the effects of Mal’s play. Glancing around the table again, I see that no one is the wiser as to what’s going on. That is, no one except for Nica. Her look at me along with her one-sided grin tells me that she knows exactly what’s going on under the table.

The fact that she doesn’t do anything about it says everything I need to know about her, but that’s a concern for another time. I have to imagine the papers must be finishing up as Mal’s fingers go into overdrive. While my toes try to curl in my heels and my entire body starts to tense up, I wonder how I’m going to get through this. I can probably prevent myself from making a lot of noise, but there’s no way I’ll be able to remain still and not make a face if I orgasm here at the table.

Just when I can’t hold it back any longer, when my back starts to arch, forcing my breasts and their diamond hard nipples to push out proudly toward the table, a savior makes sure the spotlight isn’t on me. I’m just surprised that the savior happens to be Veronica, my boss’ wife. My eyes close so I can’t see what happens, but by the time I bring the cloth napkin up to my mouth to bite and whimper into, I hear Veronica on the opposite side of the table form me making a toast, “Could I have everybody’s attention!? I’d like to thank you all for coming and helping…”

The rest of what Nica has to say is lost on me as my orgasm takes over. Lights flash, waves crash, explosions blow up, and I do my very best to stay still and not scream.

It feels like forever, but I come down from my peak I feel Mal’s arm around my shoulders and hear his whispered words “Open your eyes. Smile. We’re almost done. You are so adorable!”

Opening my eyes I see everybody at the table is turned and looking at Nica, on the opposite side of the table from me, as she’s lifting her glass in a toast. I have no idea what she’s offered up worth toasting but I join the group by shakily reaching out my hand and grabbing my glass to lift and take a sip from. Moments ago, I felt tense enough that I thought I’d break the very chair I was sitting in. Now I feel like a formless goo, conforming to the shape of the chair. Aftershocks of pleasure shoot through me but they’re reminders of what was, and not enough to make me cum again. Still, my panties are soaked both with the prosthetic’s lubricant and my own cum, and for right now I could care less.

As everybody starts gathering their things and readying to leave, I make sure to lean forward and let my hair curtain around my face. I can’t see myself, but I know damned well I’ll be flushed and possibly even sweaty from the torturous pleasure Mal has put me through. As if a final reminder was needed, the last person to walk past Mal and I is Nica. Her voice is loud enough that I’m sure some of the other patrons and even staff hear.

“Slut!”