Good Vibrations
Saladin knocked on the bedroom door.
"Are you almost ready, my dear?"
The car was parked in the drive - technically they didn't need it, but the aesthetic fit the occasion - and the dinner started in an hour. He didn't wait for a reply before entering the room.
Flora stunned in a dress of nude silk that clung along the taper of her waist, the swell of her breasts, the curve of her hips. A slit ran up to her mid-thigh, exposing a tantalizing span of bronzed skin. Strappy heels tied to delicate ankles, making her even taller than usual. Saladin didn't mind that he had a taller woman at his side; only a weaker man would have a problem standing chest-height to the most beautiful woman in the world.
Saladin could hardly believe his luck.
"Ready," she said, giving herself a turn for his viewing pleasure.
"You look absolutely divine, my dear."
"Thank you, Daddy." Flora blushed, her cheeks a pleasant rosy color.
"Call me Saladin tonight or else we might get some strange looks," he said with a laugh, to which Flora only smiled wider. He leaned forward, lips close to her ear. "Are you wearing them."
Flora pulled away, taking the scent of roses and lavender with her. She gave another shy smile and nodded.
"Good," Saladin said, pleased. He patted his breast pocket where his most valuable treasure lay hidden from sight. "We should get going. I cannot wait to see the looks on everyone's faces when I show up with the most ravishing date on campus."
The Red Fountain University Alumni Ball was, as everyone knew, the most outstanding social event of the year. Anyone who was anyone in the university's history was going to be in attendance, alumni ranging from senators to CEOs to lawyers and doctors and tech moguls. Current staff and administration were required to attend and sing the university's praises, all while ensuring hefty donations for the following year.
At least, that was what Saladin would be doing. Flora, on the other hand, was there to simply stand by his side and look pretty. Which sounded shallow and antiquated, but that was what the donors liked to see, and Flora didn't mind in the slightest. Saladin had come to realize that she got quite turned on knowing they were in a crowded place making eye contact and civil small talk with people they otherwise would not tolerate, but wishing they were fucking each other's brains out in bed.
Moving through the crowd was easy when Saladin knew everyone, and those he did not know, he flawlessly pretended to. It was his charm, his charisma that let him get away with it. No one could be upset at being forgotten for long when Saladin was laughing and sharing stories about his wild fraternity days. Flora didn't even have to be there for people to flock to him.
Of course, Flora attracted her own fair share of attention.
"And what is it you do, Miss Linphea?" an older woman with a grey bob and horn-rimmed glasses asked, blue eyes glancing skeptically between Saladin and herself. It was a recurring theme throughout the night, one that Flora expected along with all the ogling and relentless commentating on her beauty: people thought she was an escort. No one had been so outright as to ask the question. Until this woman who clearly did not give a single fuck about who she might be offending.
"Fara," Saladin tutted, like they were old friends. He turned to Flora. "You'll have to forgive Fara's manners. She runs a finishing school for troubled girls out in the countryside of Alfea."
"I assure you, I am not troubled Miss...?" Flora did not feel comfortable addressing the woman by such a familiar nickname.
"Faragonda," she supplied.
"Flora is a university student here, at Red Fountain," Saladin supplied.
Fara was unconvinced, her eyes narrowed with laser focus on Flora, specifically the swell of her cleavage. "What do you study?"
"Botany, with a focus in herbology and medicinal uses," Flora replied, feeling the need to prove herself legitimate to a woman who clearly thought her a liar. "I transferred in last year."
"Certainly wouldn't come across Saladin in the biology building, would you?"
If there was one thing Saladin took very seriously, it was maintaining the sanctity of student-teacher relationships. Flora was not his student, nor would she ever be.
"No, I - "
"Flora was seeing my nephew, Helia," Saladin cut in, saving Flora from saying something that would incrimate them both. "You remember him. You once told him he should focus less on looking out the window and more on the book in his lap."
"Yes, and then he took up poetry, as I recall." Faragonda grimaced, lips curling as if she'd sucked on a lemon. "If there was a ever a lesson that backfired, it would be that one."
Flora had to agree with the woman on that one. At one point in their relationship, Flora had thought Helia a romantic for being able to recite Keats and Dickinson and all the other classics. It would have been romantic had he not also been reciting those poems to Krystal, Flora's former roommate.
Picking the boys over her on Christmas might have been the straw that broke the camel's back, but there were a lot of things Flora had been willing to overlook - poetry reading being one of them - when she and Helia were together. Now that she was out of that clusterfuck of a relationship, she could see just how selfish Helia truly was. Especially in comparison to his uncle.
"Now, now," Saladin sighed, as if this was all fun and games. "Griselda has made you too severe."
"At least Griselda isn't a third of my age."
Someone took the microphone and cleared their throat, killing all conversation.
"Dinner is served!"
Faragonda gave Saladin one last scathing look before following the crowd into the adjoining room.
"That was tense," Flora muttered, subtly dabbing at the sweat that had beaded on her brow during that borderline interrogation.
"Fara? Oh she's harmless. Means well, but that bulldog of a partner she has put a tough streak in her," Saladin said with a sign, taking Flora's arm and leading her to their assigned seats. "We've been friends since childhood. Went through Red Fountain together, founded a little group of rebels and free-thinkers called the Company of Light. Pure seventies idealism bullshit."
This was a side of Saladin Flora had yet to discover. She was intrigued.
"What happened to the others in the Company?"
"Fara moved out to Alfea. She meant the teaching thing to be a stint, but fell in love with it, and Griselda, and never left. They raise sheep." That last point made Flora giggle, looking over to the woman and trying to imagine her with arms full of fleecy fluff. "Griffin also went into academia, though she sold her soul to Big Pharma to get there. She's been on the R&D end of at least seven different chemotherapy drugs in the last decade or two. Now she's the assistant dean of some medical school over in Whisperia."
"That's it? The Company of Light was just you 'sharing ideas' with two women?" Flora asked, quirking an eyebrow. "Sounds scandalous."
"There were others, naughty girl," Saladin chided with a laugh. His hand came to rest high on her thigh, stroking the skin just below the fabric."Erendor came in and out of the picture, though he was mostly around to get high and escape his family's money and responsibility. Hagen decided academic life wasn't for him, went back to trade school, became a blacksmith, now he does historical reenactments at heritage sites all over the country. Oritel and Miriam...they died young. Car crash that orphaned their daughter. Horrible stuff."
Flora winced in sympathy. "I'm sorry."
"Nothing to be sorry for, my dear. It was a long time ago." Saladin gave Flora his most convincing smile, and squeezed her thigh. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to make a speech."
While Saladin moved towards the stage, dinner was served on fancy silver dishes. Flora had marked her meal as vegetarian, so she had a lovely eggplant parmesan with spring greens underneath her silver dome. Everyone else had large cuts of chicken or steak. Wine was given to everyone, as it was necessary for the toast Saladin stood at the podium to give.
"Is this thing on?" Saladin joked as he adjusted the mic, his voice loud and clear even over the laughs he garnered.
As Saladin started his speech, the panties turned on, buzzing to life between Flora's legs.
Flora bit her lip and squirmed, trying to settle her stomach as her crotch tingled with the low thrum of her panties. The sound itself was not loud. No, only Flora could hear it over the din of the speech and eating noises because she was listening for it, which was a blessing. The woman next to her was already casting sidelong glances.
It wasn't too bad, the sensation. Much like warming herself up with a vibrator, the pleasure was controllable with careful breathing. Feelings could be tempered and handled if compartmentalized, and Flora tried not to lose herself to it as she breathed in through her nose, held it, and exhaled through her lips.
Eggplant caught in her throat, making her choke as the vibrations intensified.
She coughed, spitting her bite up into her napkin, mortified as more eyes turned her way. From the stage, Flora could see Saladin's lips curled up in a faint smile though his eyes remained on his cue cards, voice never wavering from where he was in speech. To everyone else, he appeared oblivious. To Flora, she knew he was paying keen attention, and was enjoying her torment.
The wine. That would calm her nerves, even as the pressure between her legs grew unbearable.
She reached for her glass, and vibrations shot through her pussy like a lightning bolt.
Flora gasped. The wineglass slipped from her fingers and spilled across the white tablecloth down across her dress, staining it a deep red. None of that mattered, though. Maybe to the horrified onlookers, but not to Flora.
All that mattered was the constant pulsing energy surrounding her clit, lighting up her body with intense pleasure.
"Miss Linphea, are you alright?" Faragonda asked from across the table.
"F-fine," Flora gasped, another surge pulsing through her. She couldn't stay. Much more and she'd be ripping her underwear off and throwing them on the table. "Excuse me."
She got up from the table and hobbled towards the bathroom, tripping twice as more shocks from the panties made her weak in the knees. People turned to watch her go, most people thinking she was overly intoxicated or had come down with some kind of food poisoning. Only Saladin, who tracked her motion from the table to the back of the room and around the corner, knew the truth, the remote tucked swiftly in his pocket, his fingers on the dial.
That wasn't even the highest setting.
Fara watched Saladin like a hawk, noticing that he was following Flora's exact path, and fixed him with her most unimpressed scowl. No doubt she was thinking 'he was a cad in school, and he's still a cad now.' He winked at her, just to watch her scowl deepen and her cheeks redden. Sometimes, the most important things in life were not securing donors for your athletic programs, but riling up your oldest friend and rival.
Besides, someone had to help Flora clean up.
The bathroom was not hard to find: a single-room stall room at the end of the hall meant for one person, complete with a toilet, sink, bidet, hand dryer, two mirrors (full-length and the one above the sink), trashcan, and baby-changing station.
Saladin immediately locked the door behind him, the heavy wood closing with a thunk, metal latch sliding into place. He locked the deadbolt as well. No one would interrupt what was going to happen next.
"You shouldn't be in here," Flora admonished, voice trembling as she turned to face him, not a sliver of green left in her dark, lust-blown eyes. She had a hand between her thighs, cupping her sex in search of some kind of relief. "People will talk."
"Good," Saladin growled.
He couldn't take it any longer.
It took him two steps to cross the room, grab a fist-full of Flora's long, bronze hair, and bend her over the sink. He stepped up behind her and pulled the slit in her dress aside, hiking the fabric up until he could see the outline of black lace. He hooked his fingers round the band of the panties and pulled them down her quivering thighs. The beads attached to the crotch slipped from Flora's cunt, completely soaked. There was no denying how wet she was, how desperately she wanted him.
Saladin couldn't help himself. He raised the panties to his nose and took a deep breath. The scent of her was intoxicating. He just had to have a taste.
He popped the beads into his mouth and sucked on them, savoring her.
Flora moaned as she watched him through the mirror, her hands gripping the sink so tightly it may crack. She reached down to touch herself, but Saladin stopped her, returning her hand to the sink along with the beads.
"Keep those there," he growled, mouth on her ear, pulling the lobe with his teeth while he used his own hand to tease her until she gasped and whined.
She loved his fingers. He knew because she couldn't stop babbling, a litany of 'pleases' and 'don't stops'.
"So wet for me," he praised, taking his cock in his other hand and slicking himself between her folds.
Pushing inside Flora felt like coming home, like heaven, like a cool glass of water after dying of thirst in the desert. Hot and wet and tight and so right. She cried out, and he had to cover her mouth to keep them from being discovered. Her knees shook, and he pressed against her harder, keeping her from falling. She rubbed against him, ass snug against his hips. He palmed the globes of her cheeks, moving her the way he wanted - back and forth, back and forth. An erotic grind that drove Flora near tears.
Sweat beaded at Flora's neck, and he licked it up, savoring the salt that chased the taste of sweetness from her cunt.
Brutal wasn't the right word for how hard he fucked her, legs spread apart, bodies pounding against the sink. Desperate wasn't the right word to describe how much he needed her, to encapsulate the animalistic the need to consume her whole.
"Fuck me!" she cried, reaching back and grabbing at his hips, nails digging in and making bruises. "Fuck me, Daddy!"
Saladin fucked Flora in earnest, driving hard and fast. The unrelenting rhythm drew sweet, sweet noises from Flora's throat, unmasked pleasure in her voice. She couldn't swallow the sounds, couldn't do anything but accept the force of Saladin's thrusts as they pounded into her.
He ached at the base of his spine, from the exertion of keeping her pinned in place, and he couldn't imagine walking after this. Couldn't imagine Flora walking after this. It was deliciously, unbearably perfect.
He came inside her with a muffled grunt, burying his face into her shoulder while he stuttered through the aftershocks. When his body stopped spasming and the rush of blood left his ears, Saladin pulled out, cum leaking down Flora's thighs. He reached for the basket of rolled, lavender-warmed towels on the counter, and used one to gently clean her. Flora moaned as he dragged the soft fabric over her puffy center. He loved the way she looked post-fuck, how her body flushed red hot and bowed to his every touch.
Even now, she was still so close to the edge...
The beads found their way back into his mouth, laving each one with a generous layer of saliva. Satisfied that they were slick enough, he slid them into Flora's pussy, savoring the way she yelped and tried to close her shuddering thighs. He kept them open as he pushed the beads into place, teasing them in and out of her with slow, rocking thrusts.
Flora reached out blindly and fisted Saladin's dress shirt, wrinkling the cotton in her grip as she tried to steady herself. It was hard to do sitting against the sink, one leg thrown over his arm while he teased her senseless.
"Please...Daddy, please..." Flora gasped, chest heaving as she tried to fight the pleasure that had her whole body spasming.
All it took was one click of the remote on the lowest setting and Flora was gone, screaming into his mouth as she came, convulsing with the intensity of it.
"You are the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," Saladin growled, claiming her with a deep kiss. He dove his tongue into her mouth, licking up the taste of her, devouring her as if she were his last meal. Her lips were red and swollen as her cunt by the time he pulled away. Everyone would know exactly what had happened in this bathroom.
Good.
"Let's get out of here." He leaned in close, forehead pressed to the side of her damp curls, lips brushing her ear as he rumbled, "When we get home, I'll turn the intensity on high and see exactly how many times these can make you come."
Flora whimpered, "Yes."