His slut

She wore a tight grey skirt, with a cream top. Heels.

Every bit the business woman?

Well a cream top with black bra?

Seamed stockings?

As they entered the bar, she looked around and saw people in casual dress. It was Sunday, so people were out for lunch, socialising, chatting.

He observed that men looked at her legs, observed the heels, skirt, blouse, bra. He loved it - his slut watched by other men in this way.

As they sat with their drinks, he told her to open her legs for him. Of course she complied.

She tried to chat normally, he smiled at the idea that they were observed in this way. Last time they had sat in this bar, she had felt conspicuous by her dress and demeanour. This time she ignored any embarrassment, proud to be HIS slut.

They finished their drinks, and headed for their room. Outside the door, he paused and ran his hand up her stockinged leg, inside her panties. she gasped as his fingers stroked her wet pussy, her clit. Taking his hand away, he undid the zip on his trousers, releasing his large, hard cock. She was on her knees before he told her to suck.

Gratefully she took him into her mouth. Closing her eyes, she tried to block out the sounds in the pub area below. Instead she concentrated on the feel of him, the taste and smell. She was pleased to have her mouth filled with him at last.

Then as she got to her feet, he used the key card to admit them to the privacy of their room.

He had loved that she had looked every bit his slut in the bar and that she had behaved like one outside the room. Now, she would be His slut in the room. They both knew what would happen next.......