It was a chilly Midwestern autumn night, and the darkness coupled with a light mist of rain gave the night a surreal quality. It was time to get out and cut loose. Tonight, the mounting tensions of a week gone badly would dissipate. They hadn't been together for three weeks. They both looked forward to spending some time together.
When he picked her up he wasn't quite prepared for what she was wearing. She usually dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. The first thing that struck him as she walked to the car was her long legs. He had never seen her in a skirt so short or heels so high; her legs seemed endless. His mind began to wander. "Fuck the club, or fuck her?" he thought to himself. He wanted to skip the new club they were supposed to be checking out and get a cheap motel room and violate her. He was so caught up in his thoughts he didn't notice the black lipstick and nail polish until she opened the car door. He'd never seen her in it before; it was sexy as hell.
"Did I ever tell you how much I love your legs? I want to lick them right now. I think you've given me a pantyhose fetish." He was serious, but she just flashed a big smile.
"That's silly. If you lick them we'll never make it to the club, and for once it we be nice if we stuck to our plans," she said sternly. He had to agree, they did miss the comic book convention last weekend.
As she opened the car door, she noticed that he was wearing all black, and because the night was cool he was wearing a black leather trench coat. The smell of leather turned her on. As soon as she got in the car he plunged his hands between her legs and began rubbing her clit through her pantyhose. It was chilly out and he wanted to warm up his hands. Her heart began to pound; she was growing wet already. She thought about skipping the club, but they had already arrived. She felt relieved as they found a parking space and stepped out of the car to feel the autumn mist cool her off from the steamy ride.
Once inside, they were both struck by the intimacy of the place. The club itself was a labyrinth of interconnected rooms separated only by strings of wooden beads, and at one time it had been an old Victorian three-story home. After exploring a series of small rooms, they ordered drinks, and headed upstairs. They soon found themselves on the top floor sitting on a plush couch. .
They wasted no time tasting each other. The smell of leather was driving her wild; she kissed him hard and deep. She was hungry for him; she wanted to taste him.
"I want to fuck you. We could do it right here or in the bathroom," he said. He was breathing heavily; his eyes were glazed with desire.
But she wanted to wait; she liked being teased. He was rubbing her clit and licking her ear. Her panties were soaked. His dick was rock hard; they were both on the verge of fucking right there. Occasionally they could hear the beads hitting each other as a person wandered into the room heading out onto the balcony. Their activities were obscured only by his black leather trench coat.
No one could see her hand furiously stroking his dick or his glistening precum. But someone did see her remove her hand from beneath his coat and lick her fingers like a cat. Her short skirt was well above her crotch. They were drifting closer and closer toward ecstasy and could care less about the world around them.
Their erotic play was finally broken up by a group of people laughing as they walked through to go out on the balcony. They decided that they both needed a drink. She was working on her second drink and thinking about leaving. "Who cares about the burlesque show?" she thought. She felt like she would cum if he was to touch her again. She was startled when someone tapped her on the shoulder.
