Harlan showed up at 8:40 a.m. the next morning, ten minutes after Maya returned from the school run. He didn’t bother with a hard knock. He simply waited until she opened the door, stepped inside, and locked it behind him.
In one hand he carried a small paper bag.
“You will need these ,” he said, tossing it onto the couch.
Inside was a black micro-skirt that barely covered the tops of her thighs, a pair of sheer black stockings, and a simple black suspender belt. No panties. No underwear of any kind.
Maya stared at the contents. “I have things to do today—”
“You’re coming to dinner with me tonight. Seven o’clock. You’ll wear exactly what’s in the bag and nothing underneath. I want my hand able to slide straight between your legs whenever I feel like it.” He was already unbuckling his belt, cock heavy and half-hard as he pulled it out. “But first you’re going to remind me why I keep letting you stay in this building.”
He bent her over the arm of the couch without further discussion. Two thick fingers shoved into her cunt, pumping hard and fast until she was dripping, then he replaced them with his cock in one brutal thrust. He fucked her deep and relentless, hips slamming against her ass, one hand fisted in her hair so he could watch her face in the reflection of the dark television screen. When he pulled out it was only to spit on her asshole and force himself into the tighter hole. Maya cried out as he bottomed out, the stretch burning. He pounded her ass until her legs shook, then dragged her to her knees and shoved his slick cock down her throat, making her gag and drool while he used her mouth. He came across her tongue and lips, then made her swallow every drop before leaving the clothes on the couch with a final order:
“Be ready at 6:45. Skirt, stockings, suspenders. Nothing else.”
That evening she stood in front of the mirror in the tiny black skirt, sheer stockings clipped to the suspenders, completely bare underneath. Every small movement let cool air touch her cunt. Harlan arrived exactly on time, looked her over once, and gave a satisfied nod.
“Good girl. In the car.”
He drove them to a dimly lit Italian restaurant three neighbourhoods over—white tablecloths, high-backed booths, the kind of place where people spoke quietly. He ordered wine for both of them and sat close on the same side of the booth so his thigh pressed against hers. Almost immediately his hand slid under the tablecloth and up the inside of her leg.
By the time the starters arrived two thick fingers had already pushed between her bare pussy lips and sunk deep into her cunt. Maya kept her eyes on the menu, trying to breathe evenly while he slowly fucked those fingers in and out of her. The wet sound was soft but unmistakable under the low restaurant noise. He curled them and rubbed firmly against the front wall of her, pressing harder each time her thighs tensed.
“You’re already soaked,” he murmured, smiling as if they were discussing the specials. “Dripping down my hand. Stay quiet. Wouldn’t want the couple behind us knowing I’m finger-fucking you under the table.”
He kept the rhythm steady and deliberate through the entire first course—slow thrusts of his fingers, occasional scissoring to stretch her, the pad of his thumb occasionally brushing her clit. Maya’s breathing grew shallow. Her hips wanted to move but she forced them still. Harlan ordered the main courses without removing his hand, speaking calmly to the waiter while two fingers continued pumping inside her.
Halfway through the pasta he decided he wanted more. He pushed a third finger into her, stretching her open, and began rubbing her clit in tight, relentless circles with his thumb. Maya’s knuckles went white around her fork. Heat built low and sharp in her belly. She tried to hold it back, tried to stay silent, but Harlan knew exactly what he was doing. He pressed harder against that swollen spot inside her and worked her clit faster.
“That’s it,” he whispered against her ear. “Come on my fingers right here. Let me feel this cunt squeeze.”
The orgasm hit her hard and sudden. Her thighs clamped around his hand, her cunt pulsing and fluttering around his fingers as she came in silent, shaking waves. Wetness flooded his palm and ran down the inside of her thigh, soaking into the top of her stocking. Maya bit the inside of her cheek to keep from making a sound, eyes glassy, chest rising and falling too fast. Harlan kept rubbing her through it, drawing every last twitch out of her, until she was trembling and oversensitive.
Only then did he slowly pull his fingers free. He brought them up under the table and pushed them against her lips.
“Clean.”
She opened her mouth and sucked her own cum off his fingers while he watched her with dark satisfaction.
He didn’t let the evening end there. Halfway through the main course he decided he was finished with public teasing. He stood, dropped enough cash on the table to cover the bill twice over, and steered her toward the narrow corridor that led to the restrooms. The moment the single-occupancy toilet door locked behind them he had the tiny skirt shoved up around her waist.
He freed his cock, rubbed the thick head through the fresh mess between her legs, and slammed into her cunt in one hard thrust. One hand clamped over her mouth. The other gripped a suspender strap like a handle while he fucked her deep and fast, the wet slap of skin loud in the small tiled space. The mirror above the sink showed everything—her flushed face, the way her breasts bounced, the glistening length of his cock disappearing into her over and over.
He lasted longer than usual. When he finally pulled out of her cunt it was only to spit on her asshole and force the head past the tight ring. Maya’s cry was muffled by his palm as he bottomed out in her ass. He fucked the tighter hole with the same relentless rhythm, watching her face in the mirror the entire time, until he came deep inside her with a low, satisfied grunt, flooding her while she shook.
He didn’t let her clean up properly. He simply smoothed the micro-skirt back down over her used, leaking holes and waited while she fixed her lipstick with trembling hands. Cum was already sliding down the insides of her thighs, soaking the tops of the stockings, by the time they walked back through the restaurant.
In the passenger seat of the car he reached over again, slid two fingers back into her messy cunt, and idly played with the combined wetness while he drove.
“Next time I take you out,” he said, voice calm, “you’ll wear the same thing. And I might not even bother with the table. I might just bend you over in the car park and take what I want.”
Maya stared straight ahead, the taste of herself still on her tongue, the evidence of everything he’d done to her cooling and sticky between her legs.
The arrangement had a new rule.
Public was no longer off-limits.

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