“No Kitten, you’ve had enough cream.” I cupped her pussy through the pants that she wore, “can you still feel me here?” I let my fingers tease her cunt lips.
“Should I eat your pussy, do you think we have enough time?”
“Oh please, please put your mouth on me I need it, please.”
“Hmm, I wonder; pull down your pants for me.” She lifted her ass off the seat and tugged at her zipper and that’s when I got my first surprise of the evening.
“Kitten what’s that?” She looked down at where I pointed.
“What sir?” I looked down into her eyes without uttering a word.
“Button up.” I slid over to my side of the seat and looked out the window ignoring her. She knew I was pissed but she also knew not to say one fucking word to me unless it was an apology and to do that she had to figure out what the fuck she’d done wrong.
I don’t know what made me do it, what possessed me to go that far. I was hurt and miserable because of Callan’s treatment of me. I don’t know what happened, one minute he was touching me and I was enjoying those feelings that only he could inspire and the next cold.
When I looked at him questioningly after ten minutes of silence, all he would say is ‘think Gabriella’. I hate when he calls me that. Isn’t it funny? That’s my name, I’ve answered to it for over eighteen years and yet when this one man calls me by that name I shudder, because I know it means he’s displeased with me about something.
Because of that displeasure and the way he was so cold with me all evening, I think I might’ve gone too far. I was only trying to get his attention, I didn’t mean for it to go this far.
We’d finally reached our destination after twenty minutes of his total silence. He wasn’t saying anything verbally but his body language was speaking volumes. I wracked my brain for what it is that I could’ve done wrong but nothing came to mind.
Usually if I made a little faux pas he would tell me what it was and I’ll be sent to the corner or denied dessert or something according to how minor the infraction was.
This time he wasn’t even broaching the subject so I knew whatever I’d done had to be really bad.
That thought off set me so much that I took a glass of wine from a passing tray without giving it too much thought, then after that one was done I took another. Then I saw her, that woman from the museum, the one he said he didn’t know and she was making her way over to him.
I was madder than I’d ever been in my life, and even when I saw him brush her off and send her away the red haze didn’t clear from my eyes.
I noticed that I was getting a little loud, well loud for me anyway and then Josh was there and he was paying attention to me and smiling with me and soon some of the others came over and I had no idea where Callan, sir, was.
I looked around but did not see him and that annoyed me even more for some reason. Three glasses of wine later I felt hands on me and I was being dragged away.
“Hey I’m talking.” I looked up through blurry eyes to see a very pissed off Callan. Josh stepped forward and said something but I didn’t hear his words. Just Callan’s telling him to back the fuck off.
“If you’ll excuse us, we’re leaving.” He said that to the others as he took me away. My face was red with embarrassment but that was the least of my worries. I felt a sickening fear in the pit of my stomach at his cold anger.
Next thing I knew, I was being thrown into the backseat of the car and the almost drunken haze was gone. My mind was clear as a bell and I was scared. His face was set in stone.
I looked down at my lap when he finally turned his gaze to me, biting my lip in consternation. I felt tears prick my eyes; what had I done?
“Please tell me what I did wrong?” my voice was pleading and desperate as I fell to my knees in the back of the car.
“Get up, I told you to think didn’t I? Instead you’ve made matters worst.” That’s all he would say, nothing more.
When we got back to the house I was still none the wiser until I replayed the whole evening in my head. I was shaking by this point because he’d left me standing in the doorway and gone into the office and locked the door.
My mind raced as I tried to figure things out and the only thing I could think of was my underwear. But surely he couldn’t be mad about that. I wasn’t allowed to wear underwear unless I was given permission except when I had my period of course, but why would that make him so angry?
I’d only worn it because I was afraid the crotch of the pants would rub against me all evening. It wasn’t often that I got to wear pants when we went out, and going bare beneath a dress or a skirt was much easier.