Blackestnights by Cindy Jacks

valet parking area in front of the restaurant. A young man in a red vest opened the door for me and I stepped out feeling a bit like a rock star or a socialite. Ridiculous delusion of grandeur, but Black had chosen one of those white-tablecloth places I would admire whenever I visited this section of the city, but that I could never afford.
    Once he’d exited the car and handed the valet the keys, Black offered me his arm. I took it, clinging to him for support.
    “I’m underdressed,” I murmured to him, noting his tailored slacks, dress shirt and woolen overcoat.
    He shrugged. “Who cares? It’s the job of the restaurant staff to impress us, not vice versa.”
    True, but still. I could see all the fashionably dressed women inside and I regretted that I hadn’t taken Black up on his offer to go clothes shopping.
    Holding the door for me, he entered the restaurant as if he owned it. Hell, he might have owned it for all I knew of his enterprises, but if the maître d’ knew Black, the man gave no indication that he did.
    I followed the maître d’ to a secluded table toward the back, choosing the seat facing the window. After all, Black clearly dined at places like this all the time. I, however, did not so I was going to enjoy every second of it.
    As he had before, Black ordered for both of us and again his choices were perfect. We lingered over the food until the brunch crowd had dwindled to only a few stragglers.
    “Did you enjoy your meal?” he asked, taking me by the hand.
    “I did. Thank you. Are you ready to go shopping?”
    “Not just yet. I was thinking we could have some fun. I want you to slip under the table and give me head.”
    I chuckled, sure he was joking. Casting my gaze around the restaurant, I noted that we were practically alone, but still…
    Blinking at me, he tented his fingers. “Well?”
    “You’re serious?”
    “Yes.”
    Looking at the partition that separated our section from the larger dining area, I realized we did have a certain amount of privacy. Plus the tablecloth was long enough to conceal me, at least until I crawled out from under. All that aside, did he really expect me to give him a blowjob right here, right now?
    His expression indicated he expected just that.
    I squirmed in my seat, my pussy tightening at the thought of doing something so shameless. If I hadn’t been able to slip him my panties in public, did he really think I could do this? I wanted to submit, but fear of being caught held me back.
    “Black, I can’t.”
    “You can and you will or you will be punished. It’s that simple.”
    But it wasn’t simple. While I longed to please him, to do whatever he commanded, we were in public and I didn’t want to cross that boundary. Well, I did want to cross it, but I couldn’t. I just couldn’t.
    Shame heated my face and chest. My inhibitions were silly and childish.
    “I’m sorry, I can’t.” My shoulders sagged as I admitted defeat.
    With a sigh of annoyance, he fished out his wallet and peeled off several bills, tossing them on the table. He rose, grabbing me by the arm and jerking me to my feet.
    “You’re hurting me,” I murmured, sure the waitstaff was staring at us.
    “I haven’t begun to hurt you.”
    He marched me out of the restaurant and several blocks down the street, stopping in front of a fast food restaurant.
    Furrowing my brow, I tried to figure out what he had in mind, but as soon as he pulled me through the dining area and into the men’s restroom, I understood. He shoved me into a stall and slammed the door behind him, locking it.
    “Is this better? Is this what you want? To suck my dick in a bathroom stall like a five-dollar crack whore?”
    “No.”
    “I took you someplace nice and gave you a command, which you refused to carry out. Now you’ll do it here.”
    I met his gaze, pleading with him. “No. Please, Black. This is demeaning.”
    “It didn’t have to be this way.”
    He pushed me to my knees, the hard tile cutting