Our Wait for the 7

It was late.  Few were out and about at all, and the platform was deserted.  We had a little wait and walked to the end of the platform to catch the front car.  Or at least that's the reason M gave me.  We were content and happy, tired from the long fun day.  After checking out the view, we snuggled, kissed, and touch as we usually do at every opportunity.  Lovers that can't quite keep from touching...tasting.  But M is a devious man and likes to push.  Soon our bit of PDA took on more of the intensity we shared behind closed doors.  He held my head, deepening our kiss and commanding I give more.  Our tongues dueled, and I was quickly wishing we were already tucked away as desire licked up my spine.

When his hands cupped my full aching breasts, I sighed in blessed relief despite our very public location.  My nipples immediately responded through the thin material and pebbled in his palm as he massaged their weight.  My big slutty tits were braless beneath my strappy, summer top.  I'd shed its vice grip an hour before as we were walking to the restaurant, careless if the late night wait staff notice their swing or hard tips.  Now with M's demanding touch, they begged to be used.  He gave them and me, much more than expected on that well lit train platform.

Whether it was my willing response that set him off or just his sadistic need to toy with his slut, the devilish look in his eyes was my only warning.  Without hesitation or even a glance around us, M tugged up my shirt to settle above my breasts and exposed my 36DD mounds for his torment.  He cupped...molded...sucked.  Not gently.  Not easily.  But with his cruel intensity that I so fucking crave.  Even as a tiny part of me was conscious of the trouble we might cause, my body gave in fully, arching into his touch.  I've long ago accepted that I am His property to consume whenever, wherever, and however he desires.

I gasped.  I whimpered.  The pleasure flooding me with heady need.  When he stepped back and slapped His slut's heavy tits,  my cunt clenched in response.  One small part of me was still firmly in reality though, and I purposefully held myself at ease in case anyone chanced upon us.  Again I felt that sweet sting.  My head fell back in bliss.  Yet, I struggled internally with the conflicting bombardment of needs.  The thread of sanity kept trying to interrupt with reason, but His pet simply wanted more of His use.  And His Whore...that crazy bitch was beginning to dance in glee and was sincerely hoping M would shove down my pants and four finger fuck me in front of God and everyone.  Chaos crashed in my head, yet my body held steady greedy for another harsh slap.  In the end, I'm M's to command.

His sudden grip on my arm woke me from my inner chaos and sensuous haze, but instead of stopping, M quickly turned me around to bend me over the rough cement barrier guarding the edge.  When he shoved his hand against my dampening cunt, my inner whore jumped for joy silencing any more whispers of reason.  I don't remember what he said.  I was lost.  "...whore..."  "...slut..."  God yes...I was all of those things for Him.

He slapped my ass hard.  I tried to swallow my cry.  "Cum, bitch."  Another smack shook my fat cheek.  "Cum in your pants like a dirty slut."  Another.  "I said CUM!" he growled impatiently.  The building pressure burst, and I came in a gush.  A warm river drenched my crotch and ran down my leg, soaking my capris.

"I did." I whimpered.  M's grabbed my crotch and laughed tauntingly at me as he felt and saw the humiliating evidence of my unrestrained passion.  So pleased, he turned me back to him and held me, reassuring his very embarrassed pet that I was "such a good whore."  Torn between my imminent shame and my satisfaction of pleasing M,  I looked over his shoulder across the tracks to the other platform and realized we'd had an audience of one who had to have seen some bit of my public use.  However, that barely registered as nothing could be done to undo it.  I knew the worst was yet to come.

The tracks began to rumble.  My dread increased.  I had to get through three stops in my embarrassing condition.  M didn't give me the easy way out either the sadistic bastard.  He stood with his back to the door, forcing me to face him and show my backside to any that wanted to glance my way.  I rested my head against his chest and tried not to imagine what a dirty slut I must have looked like.  I never heard a snicker.  I never heard a comment.  All I know is that I was never more relieved to be walking again in the dark, quiet streets without a potential audience.

M definitely added another splash of dark color onto my blank canvas that night.  I truly doubt that will be my only experience with his twisted sense of public fun.  Next time...oh yes...next time I'm sure it will be much, much worse.  ~sigh~

But then why does some part of me look so forward to it all?  ;-)
~DominaKat