I have nurtured a seed of an idea from Alice in Wonderland - Lewis Carrol's fantasy book. I've stolen a few elements and crafted a sexy tale about a (fairy tale) date I'd enjoy ... see what you think! It seemed to fit with Kayla's prompt for #MasturbationMonday 218 also!
Mad Hatter's Tea Party
I’m excited getting ready for my birthday treat, which has been cloaked in secrecy, but my B/f (known to everybody as Hatter since his time at boarding school) told me to wear something pretty and accessible, and to be ready at 3.30 on the dot.
I’ve had the day off and spent time pampering myself. I regularly have intimate waxing, so that box was ticked, but I’ve shaved my legs and armpits, washed and styled my long hair into loose waves and moisturised all over with Jo Malone cream and matching fragrance. I’ve done my makeup (to look like no makeup) but added false eyelashes and a flick of eyeliner.
I choose a fishnet/lace bodystocking and a short, flared dress which buttons through the front. Totally accessible and, teaming this outfit with high peep-toe shoes, I feel sexy with a twist of innocence, Hatter will love it! A text pings on my phone, the car is outside, so I grab my clutch bag and hurry downstairs to the street, where a sleek limo with darkened windows awaits. The door swings open, Hatter leans out.
“Alys! You look gorgeous - hop in!”
I bend forward and step inside, feeling the cool air swirl around my bare crotch, which thrills me. As I slide onto the leather seating I beam at him and he leans in, kissing me, before nuzzling at my neck - enjoying the fragrance - I’m already melting into his embrace. He rests a hand on my thigh and I feel hyper-aware of its heat & weight.
“Unbutton your dress!” Hatter’s voice is commanding and low, sending a chill through me which moistens my slit.
I comply immediately, getting goosebumps when he sucks in a breath admiringly. He opens my dress, pushing it to either side of my torso, baring my nipples which poke through the mesh in the body stocking. The patterns of the black fishnet and lace enhance the curves of my breasts and the toned muscles of my abdomen, while my belly button looks deep and dark. The mesh narrows into suspenders and then becomes fishnet stockings, which hug and contour my legs; Hatter’s eyes darken as he feasts them on me. Leaning in for a kiss, his tongue swirls around in my mouth while his hands grasp my waist to pull me towards him, onto the edge of the limo’s seat. He moves to my side and looks over his shoulder, I follow his gaze and catch a glimpse of the driver’s eyes in the mirror, he can see everything we’re doing.
Hatter sucks on each nipple in turn and blows on the damp flesh, making them pebble and ache for more. I breathe deeply, enjoying the sensations shooting straight to my pussy, then he pinches and rolls each one between finger and thumb, ‘til I’m panting to cope with the painful but delicious ache.
“Do you want more, dirty girl?”
I know he wants to put a show on for the driver, “Yes please,” I moan “it hurts so good!”.
“Spread your legs, I want to lick your pussy - I know you’re soaking wet, little slut.”
I comply with a smile, I like it when he talks dirty, and I can’t wait for him to discover my ‘birthday surprise’ for him! He gets to his knees in front of me and bends his head towards my pussy - then stops.
“What’s this Alys? You got a tattoo?”
“”Mmm Hmm.” I nod, a big smile breaking out on my face, so very proud of my bravery. Hatter’s the first person outside the tattoo parlour I’ve shown it to (I doubt the driver can see it from his vantage point!)
“It says Eat Me,” he observes, leaning in so close I can feel his breath tickle my naked mons. The inked words are framed by a small heart at the top of my thigh, so they’d almost be covered up by the triangle of a thong, if I was wearing any panties. “I like it!” he declares.
His face comes in close to nibble my mons and lap at my lips so I relax into the sensations he’s waking in my core. I let my legs fall wider apart, thrusting my pelvis up to allow his tongue to probe deeper, he suckles my stiff clit. I can’t suppress my groans, my head is a dizzy fog of desire; unconsciously I move my hands to pinch and pull at my nipples while he sucks and licks me out. I’m oblivious to the driver now, who can barely keep his eyes on the road, diverted by the action on his back seat!
“You’re so wet Alys!” Hatter draws back from my pussy, allowing the cool air to tickle across my engorged lips and the moisture running from my slit onto the leather car seat. “Finger yourself, but don’t come!” he commands in his sternest voice.
I comply eagerly, sliding my index finger over my clit and around, enjoying the thrill from the slightest touch in its engorged state, then I plunge both my index and middle fingers into my wet pulsing hole to pump them in and out, while Hatter digs into his pocket for an object I can’t clearly see. He watches me intensely, because we both know it won’t be long before I near the point of no return.
He grabs my hand and pulls it away to suck on my fingers, licking my juices off suggestively, his eyes locked with mine, which is so sexy. Next I feel something nudging at my pussy folds and Hatter slides an object inside me.
“We’re nearly there Alys,” he says, looking out of the window at our surroundings, leaving me spread open, wet and unsatisfied.
“You’re not kidding!” I mutter, being denied an orgasm makes me a little tetchy. Hatter just smiles enigmatically and holds my hand, kissing my fingers, and nipping them with his teeth.
The limo stops at the kerb outside a classy London hotel, and Hatter lets me out ahead of him, fondling my bare buttocks under my dress, as I try to step out of the car with dignity. The driver holds the door open and gives me a knowing look, making me blush. Hatter takes my arm as we tackle the flight of steps up to the grand, glassy hotel entrance. At that moment I feel a buzz inside my pussy, which thrills me and terrifies me in equal measure, it’s so unexpected.
Hatter, the little demon, must’ve inserted a remote control love-egg! It’s nearly impossible to walk and be so turned on, but I bite my lip and set my pelvic floor muscles, knowing there will be punishment if I cum without his permission.
Inside the hotel, Hatter turns off the vibrations and I can relax for a moment and drink in the surroundings, which remind me of pre-war glamour, parlour palms, brass furnishings, leather bound books and dainty tables draped with damask cloths. An obsequious waiter seats us at a table and Hatter orders a pot of Earl Grey and the high tea option, which consists of tiny triangular sandwiches and a selection of bite sized cakes and petits fours. He knows I have a sweet tooth, so this treat will hit the spot!
“Happy birthday Alys.” He smiles at me delightedly, a wicked glint in his eye, “how are you feeling?”
“Excited!” I say, determined not to give too much away.
“Yes, it’s a beautiful place,” he says, playing along and looking around the tea room, which is like a grand conservatory, with pillars and exotic plants, some which hang down from the ceiling in inverted flower pots.
“Undo the top 3 buttons of your dress and don’t attempt to cover yourself when the waiter comes.” Hatter’s tone is firm and he holds my gaze while I unfasten my dress as instructed. The fabric hangs open, revealing shadows near my navel. He knows this both embarrasses and excites me, he often makes me display myself in public.
Soon the waiter pushes a trolley towards us, bearing a silver teapot in the old russian style along with sandwiches and cakes. The cups and saucers are old fashioned, fine bone china and I notice the bowl of sugar lumps has tiny silver tongs with which to serve them. I study the details of our food, rather than at the waiter, I’m humiliated by my state of undress.
“Alys will be mother,” Hatter tells him calmly so he sets the teapot down in front of me, I lean forward to pour us each a cup of earl grey. If the waiter has noticed my tight pink nipples peeking out of my dress, he is the soul of discretion, but at that moment (of course) Hatter uses the remote to set the vibrating egg in motion within my pulsing pussy. I can’t help jumping a little and making a cry of surprise. The egg rumbles and buzzes within me in patterns of vibration which make me grit my teeth with suppressed desire, yet I do my best to pour 2 cups of hot tea without spilling any on the tablecloth.
“Cake madam?” the solicitous waiter indicates the delicate tiered stand he’s just placed on the table and my mouth waters to survey the selection of cup cakes, pastries and eclairs. As I raise my hand to select one, my devious B/f turns the vibrations up to maximum and I’m sure my arm trembles.
“Take that one with cream in the middle,” Hatter urges, “I know you’re going to love it kitten.”
At those words I close my eyes and cum, silently, momentously, a single tear squeezing out of the corner of my eye; the waves of clenching, squeezing delight burst over me like a rainbow coloured waterfall. I release the breath I’ve been holding and feel a pulsing burst of joy while my pussy throbs and clutches at the love egg still buzzing within me.
In a few moments I’m back to myself and, out the other side of my hazy feelings, I notice Hatter staring at me, a smirk on his face. I smile back, his use of my pet name ‘kitten’ was the secret signal, permission for me to climax. I realise I hadn’t got as far as selecting a cake so do it now, and a sandwich, settling back into my armchair to sip tea and enjoy the dainty food. He watches me a little longer, but I sense he’s pleased that I held off my orgasm until given permission and I’m pretty sure no-one else in the tea room noticed me coming unravelled.
We spend a very pleasant hour sipping tea and sampling cakes and sandwiches, although Hatter continues to torment me with the remote control vibe, activating it suddenly whenever a guest or waiter nears our table, to test my skill at ‘styling out’ my arousal, which once more is building. He pulls his chair close to mine and lays the white damask napkin ostentatiously in his lap.
“Stroke me Alys,” he instructs, so I reach my hand into his lap to unzip his flies under the screen of the white fabric. His cock springs free eagerly, already aroused from our play in the limo and watching me cum, I imagine.
My nimble fingers circle around the girth of his shaft, stroking and smoothing it up and down, allowing his foreskin to move rhythmically. I look at Hatter’s face, which he’s deliberately arranged in an impassive expression. I check left and right to ensure no-one is watching me, before gradually speeding up my stimulation of his member. I maintain a steady rhythm and pressure, but I have no clue how my ministrations are being received, until I feel the moisture of pre-cum creeping over my fingers. Observing Hatter, his face looks blank, but unnaturally stiff, so I guess he’s close to cumming, so I continue to grasp and stroke, pulling up and down, feeling a burn in my arm at the unnatural angle and repetitive movement.
All of a sudden I’m startled by a clatter from our table, Hatter has contrived to knock his cup, saucer and teaspoon to the floor. He signals with his eyes that I should retrieve them, so I drop to my knees, part-way under the table. He pushes my head towards his lap while jerking himself the last few times to release his pearlescent jiz, which hits my neck and chest, in startlingly warm, wet droplets. Keeping my upper body immobile I feel around with my hand on the floor for the fallen crockery before rising to my seat, setting them on the table.
“Thank you kitten,” he smiles, his hand, concealed by the napkin, tucks his cock back into his flies. I sit upright and a little awkward, knowing he wants to admire the rivulets of cum decorating my chest, whilst I’m hoping that the hotel guests can’t see it.
“I’ve eaten enough, have you Alys?”
“Plenty thank you,” I smile.
“We’ll take these home with us please.” Hatter smiles at the waiter, arranging to pay the bill, he points out 2 pastel coloured cupcakes, top heavy with buttercream icing.
I visit the ladies while he calls the car round for us, but I know better than to clean up the droplets of cum which are now sticky against my decolletage. I re-apply my lipstick and meet Hatter in the lobby, he takes my arm solicitously to help me down the steps in my high heels. In his other hand he carries the dainty box with a ribbon handle containing the cakes.
The limo purrs at the kerb and I climb in, while Hatter holds the door open.
“Well that was fun wasn’t it?”
“Yes, I enjoyed it very much.” I smile happily, because I did. I love him toying with me in public, instructing me to do things which make me feel slutty and ashamed. Feeling at Hatter’s mercy is a strong aphrodisiac, then he acts like he can’t keep his hands off me and I feel a shift in power.
“Take off your dress Alys,” his voice is low and saturated with lust. I comply immediately whilst feeling the moisture gather in my slick, soaking cunt. He pushes me back onto the seat of the limo until I am horizontal. “I love your tattoo, Alys. However, you must be punished for getting it done without seeking my permission.”
I’m trembling with desire, there’s a heaviness in my pussy and lower abdomen from the long drawn out foreplay. I watch him through lowered eyes, pretty sure I’m going to enjoy however he chooses to punish me. He sits beside me on the edge of the leather seat, and opens the cake box, removing a cupcake, then he presses the piped icing to one nipple then the other, coating both liberally with pale blue frosting. My heart’s pounding so hard now I can see each breast quiver with its momentum, and as he bends his head to lick and nibble the icing off, I’m quivering with suppressed lust and emotion. He takes it slowly, and insistently, his ministrations making my hands claw and scrabble at the hard leather seats, while his sucking and pulling at the delicate nipple tissue makes them engorged and swollen to twice their usual size.
Smack! He slaps my breast hard, mostly impacting the under-breast, but he catches the engorged tender nub of my nipple too and I cry out with shock, while the burning flame of climax begins to climb within me. Smack! The other breast receives similar treatment and I yelp, the throbbing pleasure/pain overlaps with the last slap and my back arches, wanting more. Slap! Smack! Slap! Smack! He rains blows on my tortured breasts, before delivering a final open-palmed slap onto my pussy and clit!
I’m cumming and writhing and crying and cumming and begging, a jumble of words flow out of my mouth, releasing the pressure along with the clenches and waves of pleasure which wash over me.
My B/f gathers me into his arms and cradles me while I throb, twitch and pant out my sobbing, delightful climax, then he smooths my hair and soothes me, held safely in his warm embrace the rest of the journey home.
The beautiful underwear I've used to illustrate my story is available from Bondara