large.
I reached for the top button of my blouse and stopped there.
It was only three buttons. Just three. What would it be like to do this? It was
nothing. Practically nothing anyway. I wanted to know what it would feel like,
to do this little thing he asked. To please him. To please myself.
I unbuttoned the top button. No harm in it. It showed
nothing. Then the second button. I revealed some cleavage. Nothing much. But
the third button ...
I couldn’t bear to check out who might be watching me. I
wasn’t even positive that Michael watched me, I was so focused on that third
button. Heat rose up my neck as I considered what I would do. That button
seemed a long way down my shirt. Well below my breastbone. If I undid it I’d
expose more than just the top of my bra.
I took a breath, and I unbuttoned the third button.
Michael’s voice jarred me. “Excellent. Now spread your
blouse open so I can see what I wanted to see.”
I looked over at him, but he was watching my hands. Slowly,
I opened my shirt, revealing my chest to him. I laid the shirt back and down,
creating a long deep V that showed pretty much everything. My bra was a
demi-cup, so if it was cleavage he wanted, he certainly got it.
A lazy smile played across Michael’s face as he perused my
shoulders and breasts. “Beautiful. And a relief. I’m glad to see it’s all you
filling those cups.”
My face grew hotter. “God, that’s embarrassing. You wanted
to see if I stuff my bra? We’re not in high school.”
“I don’t care if it’s embarrassing. I wanted to know.”
I felt a lurch between my legs. “How long do I have to stay
like this?”
“You can stop whenever you want, but if you want to make me
happy, you’ll leave your shirt open, drop your hands to your lap and leave them
there until I tell you otherwise.”
It was the casual way he said it. Casual, yes, but with an
unmistakable undertone of command. It reminded me of my time in a dark corridor
with a different, forceful man. The trembling sensation in my stomach
increased.
I did as Michael asked.
He said nothing. He only looked, a leisurely exploration of
my shoulders and the rounded tops of my breasts. It thrilled and embarrassed me
at the same time. He was pleased. I saw that. And he was right, in that his
pleasure was clearly doing something for me as well. I felt strung tight and
his attention plucked the strings.
The rest of the room faded away, and it was only me and
Michael, until he said, “I want you to look into the crowd and see who’s looking
back.”
Of course, I thought. The crowd. The people who might be
watching. He wanted them to see me as much as he himself wanted to see. I moved
my eyes toward the rest of the room, but I didn’t actually attend to the
details. Basically, I cheated.
He wasn’t fooled. “Look at them. I can tell you aren’t.”
I itched to diffuse the sexual tension between us by
challenging him, lying and telling him he was wrong. Cowardice on my part. I
took a breath to ready myself, and then I looked, actually saw what was there
to see.
“Many people are looking at you,” Michael said, his warm
voice like a stimulant. “The people who know this is a sex club are thinking
I’m a lucky man to have found someone with potential.”
Though there were at least several hundred people in the
club, no more than thirty or forty of them were in a position to see me, and
not all of them were looking in my direction. Still, it seemed an enormous
number of potential voyeurs.
I saw them, then, the men and women regarding my breasts.
But they weren’t just looking there, at the obvious. They watched my face,
looked into my eyes as well. As I met one person’s gaze then moved to the next,
I saw they understood what I was just beginning to grasp.
A feeling pulsed inside me. It shortened my breath and my blood
thrummed through my veins, a luscious wave of sensation that I would never stop
of my own will.
I knew the thrumming in my body