The Girl in the Sweater
by Memory Heap
Copyright© 2014 by Memory Heap
Erotica Sex Story: A random encounter with a beautiful girl leads to an evening of wild sex, and maybe a relationship.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Reluctant Heterosexual Fiction Oral Sex .
She entered the restaurant and crossed my line of vision, and I felt an immediate attraction to her. Of course, it was all physical, but her attributes certainly deserved my attention. She was wearing a long off-white sweater, one of those sort of sweater-coats. It was made from fairly heavy wool, but it fit her like a second skin, and set off her curves very well, at least as far as my opinion was concerned.
She reminded me of the British actress who made all of those vampire and werewolf movies: the same up-tilted nose, full lips, and long dark hair, except that this girl had much larger breasts. From what I could see she was wearing super-tight jeans that looked like they had been painted on. Her ass was covered by the sweater, but my impression was that it was high, round, and tight.
She arrived with a male friend, but I didn't see her wearing a ring, and they didn't seem to be touching each other very much, so they may have been nothing more than friends. At a guess, she was unattached. It wouldn't have mattered to me anyway, but I just noticed the fact and filed it away.
I watched her for a minute or two more, and really liked what I was seeing. While I was sitting at a table by myself, I was actually accompanied by a couple of my lieutenants, who were sitting at a different table. While I like to have the protection around me, I didn't like having them in my face unless I needed them to do something.
When her boyfriend got up to go to the bathroom, I signaled to Gus, and waited until he reached my table. I looked up at him, and said, "Make sure he doesn't come back to her table. Don't hurt him, but keep him company." Gus barely nodded as he went past my table and followed the boyfriend to the back of the restaurant.
I waited for a full minute, then made my way over to her table and sat down. As I expected, she looked at me with a quizzical expression at first, but didn't seem too concerned. "Excuse me, but that seat's taken. I'm here with someone." The way she said it made me think that she got hit on quite a bit, which came as no surprise. Up close, she was even better looking, with clear skin, almost no makeup, and piercing blue eyes.
I looked her over for a minute, which started to make her nervous, especially when my gaze held her eyes for a moment before dropping to those large breasts pushing against the front of the sweater. As I looked lower, I noticed that her jeans descended into a pair of calf-high leather boots. The whole outfit suited her extremely well, but I knew she would look much better with fewer clothes on.
"Your boyfriend won't be coming back. He's gone with one of my associates, so I guess it's just you and me."
For the first time, a slight flash of fear crossed her face, and her eyes looked around wildly, probably searching for the boyfriend, or someone of authority. After a moment, she looked at me again. "What did you do to him? Where is he?"
I smiled in as friendly a manner as I could. "Don't worry. He hasn't been hurt. He's just been convinced that you would be better off without him for a while."
"What's that supposed to mean? Better off how?"
"Well, I think that you and I should get to know each other better. You're very good looking, and I love the way that sweater fits you and shows off your figure."
She suddenly realized that this might not be a friendly meeting, and I could see that her 'fight or flight' response was getting ready to kick in. I took one of her wrists in my hand, just holding it, until she tried to pull it back. She soon discovered that she couldn't break my grip, even though I wasn't squeezing her wrist, just holding it. "There's no point in fighting me; you can't defeat me. I'm not going to hurt you, but we are going to spend some time together tonight."
Her eyes widened, and the colour left her face. "What are you going to do to me? Please don't hurt me."
I smiled again, but by this point I think she was getting scared of my smiles. "My plan is for you and me to spend a little time together, and get to know each other. After that, you'll be free to go. You may or may not decide that you want to see me again, but we'll deal with that later."
"You want ... you want to have sex with me, don't you?"
"I would think that anyone who sees you would want to have sex with you. You're very beautiful."
"But what if I don't want to have sex with you? Are you going to hurt me, or rape me?"
"I will guarantee you, right now, that if I make you scream, it won't be because I've hurt you. I don't like to hurt pretty women."
She looked at me coolly for a moment, evaluating my response. "You say that like you've hurt women in the past."
"Well, I'll admit to having spanked one or two, but they seemed to like it in the end." She gasped when I mentioned spanking, and I lifted an eyebrow at her, wondering if she had been spanked at some point in the past. She didn't say anything in answer to my unspoken query, so I decided to let it go.
After another moment or two, she suddenly seemed to shrink into herself a little, and I thought that maybe she was getting resigned to her fate. I wondered how submissive she might also be, since I was starting to get a bit of that kind of vibe from her, although it was nothing that I could put my finger on yet.
I felt the hand that I was still holding relax, and I loosened my grip, then softly covered her hand with mine. She looked at me once again, and very quietly asked, "What do I have to do?"
There didn't seem to be any guile in her look, but I wasn't going to take any chances. I turned to look over at the second of my lieutenants, who rose from his table and came to stand behind me. I turned back to her, to give her some instructions.
"My friend Frankie is going to escort you to the washroom." When I saw the look on her face, I quickly added, "Don't worry. He's not going inside; he's just going to make sure you don't run away." I saw her relax marginally, so I continued.
"I told you earlier that I really liked your sweater. When you're in the washroom, I want you to take off all of your clothes, and I do mean all of them. Then you can put your sweater, and your boots back on. Don't do up all the buttons on your sweater; I think you should be able to make do with the middle three. When you come out of the washroom, give your clothes to Frankie, and then come back over here, and sit down beside me."
I saw her blush furiously red at the thought of being naked under the sweater, and I quite liked what it did for her. I didn't know how far down her chest the blush went, but I was sure I'd find out when she came back; having only three buttons fastened would leave her displaying an impressive amount of cleavage, as well as nearly all of her thighs. She would have to depend on the close fit of the sweater to keep her covered.
I watched the reactions play over her facial features, and reflected on how pretty a face it was. She had marvellous cheekbones, and large eyes, and the total package made you want to watch her face when you spoke to her, even though the rest of her body was itself a powerful attraction. She didn't move for a minute, making me wonder if I was going to have to get Frankie to escort her a little more physically. Her eyes stayed locked on mine, but suddenly she took a deep breath and bounced to her feet, striding away.
I watched her ass recede from me, and decided that it truly was another of her good attributes. I could see the play of the muscles in her thighs under the tight jeans, and reflected for a moment how nice it would be to feel those legs wrapped around me. Frankie followed close behind her, stopping a few feet short of the bathroom door, and doing his best to blend into the décor; when you're as tall as a basketball player and as wide as a door, that isn't easy to do.
Five minutes later, the door opened, and she looked around for a second, then shyly reached out one arm and handed Frankie a bundle. The door closed again, then it was flung wide and she strode through, almost as confidently as the way she had first entered the room with her friend. When she was fully through the door, I was stunned by the transformation.
She had combed out her hair so that it framed her face and moved in the air as she walked ... no, strutted into the room like a model on a catwalk. It seemed like she wanted to take my request and throw it back in my face, making her every move seem confident, feline in its grace, and hers to own rather than mine to control. She practically stomped as she moved to stand in front of me, finally throwing one hip out and resting a hand on it.
The opening in the lower part of the sweater went almost up to her crotch; her stance made sure that all of her thighs were visible, from the top of her boots on up; if I had been sitting any lower, I would have been able to tell whether her pussy was shaved. The tightness of the sweater was the only thing keeping her breasts captive, as it molded to each of them, lifting them a little, and separating them to show a display of skin from her throat almost to her navel. The inner curve of each breast was on display, as the sweater's edges ended about an inch or so inward after covering each nipple. In all, she was amazing, and beautiful, and my mouth went dry as I took in the result, even though I had been the one to tell her to dress this way.
She stared at me for a moment, I thought maybe daring me to tell her something else. I could see that she was trying to wrest some modicum of control away from me, but I also had no intention of letting her have that. I held up a finger, twirling it to get her to turn around, and studying that delicious ass as it became visible. I put a hand on it to stop her when she was faced away from me, and I squeezed it to see just how firm it was. I felt her flinch at my touch, and again when I opened my hand and flattened it over the globe.
I caressed her ass for a few more seconds, then slid my hand under the hem of the sweater, and onto the warm flesh at the top of her thigh, just where the leg met her pelvis. My index finger was no more than an inch away from her pussy, and I felt her freeze at the realization that I might touch her there. With deliberate slowness, I moved the finger toward her centre, feeling her delicate folds slide by. She gasped when she felt my touch, and again when my finger began to separate those folds, and come close to her clit.
Her flesh was hot, but also surprisingly wet, so it seemed that she wasn't completely put off by the things I wanted her to do. I moved the tip of my finger slowly toward her clit, spreading her labia on the way, collecting her lubricating moisture on my finger. She gasped again, but also gave a little tremble when the fingertip made contact with her clit, and I felt a vibration go through her as I slowly circled the tip of it. I wanted to let her know that I now owned her body, and thought the best way would be to make her think that I was about to make her come in the middle of a crowded restaurant. I wasn't going to, but I did want her off-balance, since that would make her easier to control. Having her just on the edge of an orgasm would certainly help to keep her where I wanted her.
I pulled back on the finger a little, and curled it toward me, once again dragging it through the hot flesh. As it found her opening, I slowly pushed it all the way into her. I felt her tense in reaction, but I also heard her moan as my finger slid into her. When it was all the way in, I could feel the tip of her cervix, so I circled the muscular ring a few times before withdrawing my finger at the same slow pace. When my hand was clear, I cupped one side of her firm rear and guided her toward a chair. She nearly collapsed into it, and sat there breathing heavily for a moment before she looked up at me.
She watched me with wide eyes as I licked one side of the finger that had been inside her, revelling in her taste, and her scent. I placed the other side of the finger on her upper lip, smearing some of her juices on it so that she could smell herself when she breathed. An instant later that finger slid between her lips and she automatically began to suck it clean, tasting herself at the point of orgasm.
As my finger left her mouth, I leaned in close to her and quietly asked, "Are you all right? Are you still afraid of me?"
She nodded, unable to speak for a moment. A little breathlessly, she said, "I thought you were going to make me come ... I was so close..."
I put a hand on her thigh, pulling it a little closer to me, and then slid my hand up until my little finger could sense the moist heat of her. "I can do that if you'd like..."
She clamped one of her hands on top of mine and looked pleadingly into my eyes. "No ... no ... no. Please ... not here..."
I lifted an eyebrow. "Not here? So you'd like me to make you come, as long as it's somewhere else?" My smile was a little mocking, and a little suggestive, though she didn't realize how she'd trapped herself.
"Why ... why are you doing this to me?"
I lifted my other hand and started lazily tracing a line between her breasts with one finger, lightly running it over everything that could be seen, and occasionally slipping it under the edge of the sweater, especially near each of her nipples. I could feel the skin of her breast flinch a little, and could see the bumps of her nipples making themselves known under the sweater. The pattern of the knitting was letting one nipple start to slip through, and I lightly tugged that side of the sweater until the little nubbin broke free into the open air, surrounded by strands of wool that held it in place. She hadn't noticed and I decided to just leave it for the moment.
I smiled at her again. "I'm doing this because I can, because you are enjoying it, and because I really like to play with beautiful girls like you. I have a bit of a thing for pretty brunettes, especially when they have long hair and an excellent figure, and they dress to show it off."
She nearly snorted, and said, almost derisively, "I'm not enjoying this. You're practically raping me in a restaurant. How can that be enjoyable?"
I shifted my hand to let my little finger trace over her labia and lightly drag over her clit, and saw her eyelids close for a second. "If you're not enjoying this, then why are you so wet, and so turned on?"
She didn't answer; she just looked at me. I moved my hand from the gap between her breasts, but took hold of the escaped nipple and gave it a little tug. She gasped, then looked down and blushed a deep red when she realized that her nipple wasn't covered by the sweater, and my actions were making it stiffen and protrude even more.
When her eyes came back to mine, I said, "I think it's time that you and I left. I really should deal with your concerns, and give you that orgasm that you so desperately want, as long as it isn't here in the restaurant." I stood up, once again watching the play of emotions across her face. She was certainly aroused, but her fear was showing itself again. When I held a hand out to her, she took it automatically, and rose to stand in front of me. I stepped back a pace, and admired all of her at once. Smiling once more, I said, "You truly are gorgeous, and I hope we both enjoy the remainder of the evening."
As I moved closer to wrap an arm around her and guide her out of the restaurant, she remembered her errant nipple and raised a hand to pull the sweater back over it. "Leave it," I said. "It excites me to know that other people might see it if they look closely enough, and I think it will excite you more than it might be humiliating you."
Frankie led us out of the restaurant toward my car, and opened the back door to let us in. My car is actually a reworked Hummer. It's been stretched, and armoured, and had various other things done to it. Basically, it's bulletproof, pretty much soundproof, and very luxuriously decorated inside. Its high headroom means that people can actually stand up inside of it, which was something that this beautiful girl was about to learn. As soon as I was seated, I hit the intercom button and told my driver to take us for about an hour's ride, keeping it as smooth as he could.
She was still marvelling at the interior decoration of my car, and hardly noticed when I once again touched the bared skin between her breasts, and slid my finger down until a fastened button stopped it. I popped the button free, then moved to the next. The second button finally caught her attention, and she looked at me, another flash of fear crossing her face.
"Wh-what are you doing?"
"I would think that was obvious. I'm undoing the rest of your sweater. I'd like to see the wonderful body that it's covering."
"You mean we're going to have sex here? In the car?"
"Well, we're going to have a little fun in the car. I know you've been waiting for me to make you come, so we do need to get that out of the way." The final button came undone in my fingers, and I started to spread the sides of the sweater. When she realized that she was about to be bared to my gaze, she blushed again, and I could see it spread from her face to the top of her breasts.
I slowly pushed the sides of the sweater off her shoulders and down her arms, then took each wrist in turn and pulled the sleeve free. The sweater ended up laying like a blanket under her, and she looked like a painting of a nude, with her hair cascading over one shoulder and hiding that breast. I put my hands on her knees to open them, baring her pussy to my gaze. She was feminine perfection from her head to her feet, and my mouth began to water at the thought of the things I wanted to do to her.
The first thing I wanted to do was to introduce her to a particular fetish of mine ... well, not so much a fetish as a method of making love that I particularly enjoyed, especially with the right woman. I opened a hidden storage box and took out a couple of articles. When I started to wrap the cuff around one of her wrists, she tried to pull the hand away from me, but as in the restaurant, she quickly saw the futility of the gesture, and let me finish. Her other wrist soon followed, then she stared at them, waiting for an explanation, or an indication of what was about to follow. I could see that she was afraid again.
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