I spotted Progé immediately. He was sitting by the fire, dressed in a brown tweed-like jacket and blue sweater vest. His hair was long and blonde and swept up in very European sort of style. His gaze was piercing and unwavering. When I approached, he helped me with my jacket and had me sit next to him. He offered me a drink but then remembered that I was pregnant and asked what else I might like. When I hesitated, he told me not to worry, he'd take care of it.
I looked around the room at the beautiful decor, trying to calm my nerves. The furniture, pillars, and walls were made of dark wood. The ceiling was vaulted and ended in a large skylight. A balcony ran around the outside of the room on the second floor. The room was quiet and dark and occupied by the two of us and one other couple who sat on the opposite end. Progé spoke with ease, reminiscing about the history of the building and the area. The light conversation helped me relax.
It wasn't long before the waitron stopped by and asked me what I'd like to drink. Without hesitation, I turned and looked at Progé for direction. He went back and forth with the waitron about options and eventually settled on a seltzer with lime. Normally I'm not a fan of seltzer but I found it to be cool, tasty, and refreshing. Regardless, I would have sipped on it thankfully.
As soon as the waitron left, Progé put his hand on my knee and slowly ran it up along the inside of my thigh until it touched my labia. He clicked his tongue at me for wearing panties, moved them aside and commented on how wet I was already. My face flushed, both in shame and arousal. He ran his finger around my clit until I was quivering ever so slightly and then plunged deep inside. I moaned quietly, trying not to bring any attention to myself. He slowly pumped his fingers in and out for a few moments before withdrawing them and then slowly moved them up to my mouth. I parted my lips in anticipation and sucked the juices off of each one. "It's amazing what you can get away with in public without anyone noticing," he remarked.
As if nothing had happened, we continued conversing, my mind a little more blurry and wanton than before. In between topics, Progé told me to stand up in front of him and spread my legs wide. I did I as I was told. He instructed me to turn around. I looked out at the restaurant staff and patrons, hoping nobody was paying attention, and then looked down at him. "I didn't tell you to look at me," he said. Sheepishly I turned my gaze to the fire. When given permission, I sat back down, completely enthralled.
Progé commented that he wasn't really interested in ageplay I explained that I was here because I needed something other than ageplay. I explained that the difference between ageplay and BDSM is very black and white and I need a little balance. He encouraged me to elaborate. I started to say that ageplay is usually very soft and sweet while BDSM is....Progé began caressing my cheek. I stopped talking, closed my eyes, and melted into it. At first I thought that he was trying to show me that BDSM could be sweet too but then, without notice, he forcefully placed his other hand against my throat and applied pressure. It was hard to breath and a little painful. I nodded as much as I could manage in my restricted state, starring back at him through watery eyes. Yes....that. It took all I had not to drop to my knees right then and there.
Towards the end of the night, Progé decided that he was done with my panties. He pulled a small knife out of his pocket and reached underneath my dress, cutting the thin panties free. He pulled them away forcefully and stuffed them into my mouth. He stared at me, amused. He then removed the panties and started to roughly sop up some of the juices from my cunt. The scratchy fabric and steady pressure hurt my clit, which only aided in increasing my arousal. When they were sufficiently coated, he returned them to my mouth. "Let's go," he said.
When we arrived at my car, Progé buckled me in (a noteworthy and meaningful gesture). He slapped me hard in the face and kissed me gently on the lips. He slid his hand up between my legs and scooped up some of my juices and then smeared them all over my face. "Leave those panties in until you get home," he instructed. "Goodnight and drive safely," he said as he closed the door. And with that, he took what little was left of my brain.
While our first meeting was very sexual and edgy, which would normally have left me feeling uneasy and wanting to walk away, I felt very comfortable and safe. Progé was careful to not get caught doing what he did and he was confident in his actions, which eased my anxieties. We spoke about everything from music to kink, which was refreshing. I felt listened to and cared about. My interests mattered to him and we shared a lot in common. That made all the difference. I really enjoyed the balance that was struck between pain and sweet romance. It definitely left me wanting for more. I'm hoping that this is the beginning of a long and mutually satisfying journey.
It wasn't long before the waitron stopped by and asked me what I'd like to drink. Without hesitation, I turned and looked at Progé for direction. He went back and forth with the waitron about options and eventually settled on a seltzer with lime. Normally I'm not a fan of seltzer but I found it to be cool, tasty, and refreshing. Regardless, I would have sipped on it thankfully.
As soon as the waitron left, Progé put his hand on my knee and slowly ran it up along the inside of my thigh until it touched my labia. He clicked his tongue at me for wearing panties, moved them aside and commented on how wet I was already. My face flushed, both in shame and arousal. He ran his finger around my clit until I was quivering ever so slightly and then plunged deep inside. I moaned quietly, trying not to bring any attention to myself. He slowly pumped his fingers in and out for a few moments before withdrawing them and then slowly moved them up to my mouth. I parted my lips in anticipation and sucked the juices off of each one. "It's amazing what you can get away with in public without anyone noticing," he remarked.
As if nothing had happened, we continued conversing, my mind a little more blurry and wanton than before. In between topics, Progé told me to stand up in front of him and spread my legs wide. I did I as I was told. He instructed me to turn around. I looked out at the restaurant staff and patrons, hoping nobody was paying attention, and then looked down at him. "I didn't tell you to look at me," he said. Sheepishly I turned my gaze to the fire. When given permission, I sat back down, completely enthralled.
Progé commented that he wasn't really interested in ageplay I explained that I was here because I needed something other than ageplay. I explained that the difference between ageplay and BDSM is very black and white and I need a little balance. He encouraged me to elaborate. I started to say that ageplay is usually very soft and sweet while BDSM is....Progé began caressing my cheek. I stopped talking, closed my eyes, and melted into it. At first I thought that he was trying to show me that BDSM could be sweet too but then, without notice, he forcefully placed his other hand against my throat and applied pressure. It was hard to breath and a little painful. I nodded as much as I could manage in my restricted state, starring back at him through watery eyes. Yes....that. It took all I had not to drop to my knees right then and there.
Towards the end of the night, Progé decided that he was done with my panties. He pulled a small knife out of his pocket and reached underneath my dress, cutting the thin panties free. He pulled them away forcefully and stuffed them into my mouth. He stared at me, amused. He then removed the panties and started to roughly sop up some of the juices from my cunt. The scratchy fabric and steady pressure hurt my clit, which only aided in increasing my arousal. When they were sufficiently coated, he returned them to my mouth. "Let's go," he said.
When we arrived at my car, Progé buckled me in (a noteworthy and meaningful gesture). He slapped me hard in the face and kissed me gently on the lips. He slid his hand up between my legs and scooped up some of my juices and then smeared them all over my face. "Leave those panties in until you get home," he instructed. "Goodnight and drive safely," he said as he closed the door. And with that, he took what little was left of my brain.
While our first meeting was very sexual and edgy, which would normally have left me feeling uneasy and wanting to walk away, I felt very comfortable and safe. Progé was careful to not get caught doing what he did and he was confident in his actions, which eased my anxieties. We spoke about everything from music to kink, which was refreshing. I felt listened to and cared about. My interests mattered to him and we shared a lot in common. That made all the difference. I really enjoyed the balance that was struck between pain and sweet romance. It definitely left me wanting for more. I'm hoping that this is the beginning of a long and mutually satisfying journey.
