Be My Babygirl

It’s packed. Despite my heels, I’ve got to stand on tiptoe, looking around for Darius.

I feel him before I see him.

A jolt rushes through my body as I feel the vibrations in my panties. “Ooh!” A flush rises to my cheeks and I will my hands to remain at my sides as I stand there in the center of the lobby, my swollen bud buzzing from the toy.

Dampness pools between my legs and I feel faint. The vibrations stop. A strong arm grabs my elbow, steadying me.

Darius!

Linking his arm in mine, he leans down, his breath hot against my ear. “You’re late.”

“I… I know.”

“I don’t tolerate tardiness.”

“I can tell.”

“Sassy too?” He gives me a devilish look, sliding his hand into his pocket.

And I’m hit with another wave of torturous pleasure. “Oh!” I gasp. “Well... I got a little... distracted with what you left me.”

He smirks. “Do try to conduct yourself in the manner of a lady. You are, after all, entering the most prestigious restaurant in Vegas. The waitlist for non-members is eight months long.”

Again, the vibrations stop, and I come to. Just in time to enjoy my first glance at Opulence. The crowd seems to part for us, giving us ample space as we glide through the elegant dining room. The ceiling rises into a glass dome, the inky sky visible overhead, the tables are covered in white cloths, set with gold gilded glasses and porcelain dishes. A grand piano is being played in the corner of the vast room.

Curious eyes are on us and I silently beg him not to push that button—there’s no way I could hide the pleasure and shock with all these people looking at me—as we make our way to the rooftop pavilion.

There’s a table for two, set a bit apart from the others. A vase of red roses sits off center on the table, two chairs facing one another. There’s a bottle of red wine already poured into two glasses. Tall white candlesticks stand proud in silver holders.

I’m in awe. “You did all of this? For me?”

“Guilty. This is what I was doing while you were getting ready.” As he slides my chair out for me, I go to thank him, but the words stick in my throat as I see my next surprise. A stringed quartet is settling in a few feet from our table, the city an elegant backdrop behind them. “And music too?”

“Of course. This is, after all, our first official date, is it not?” He leaves me with a kiss on my cheek.

Date?

A date is something way different than spending time together as a paid escort. A date means feelings, a connection. A date means emotions.

And I know that from my perspective, I am experiencing those things, but is he?

I think of his face when I first arrived this afternoon, stepping out of the limo. His eyes were bright, his smile genuine.

The first soft chords of music fill the air. This has to be a real date. He went all out, just for me. The music, the wine, the candles—

“Oh!” I jump in my seat as the delicious vibrations run through my sex, then stop. I’m left squirming in my damp panties, unsure if I want more or to tear this thing out of my underclothes.

I find daddy Darius giving me a stern look. “Did you hear me, Katie?” A teasing smile rests on his lips.

“Sorry—I was lost in thought for a moment there. Um, you can order. That would be fine.” I take a sip from my wine glass. I’m not much of a connoisseur but there is one flavor I can pick up in this wine—expensiveness. It’s delicious. I take another sip.

“Very well.” A waiter arrives and he places our orders. I’m so enthralled with the view of the city and the quartet; I don’t even know what he’s ordered. When the waiter leaves, he leans in. “Let’s play a little game, shall we?”

Squirming in my seat, I take another sip of my wine. I’ve no idea what he has in mind, but I’m guessing it involves this little pink vibrator in my panties.Chapter 8DariusIt’s only been a few days, but seems so much longer. She’s sweet and unpretentious, a breath of fresh air to me. My little Katie Kat. Throughout dinner, I made her squirm like crazy until dessert, at which point I finally pushed the button on her device without stopping and she climaxed right there, stuffing a napkin in her mouth and dropping her head so no one would notice the pleasure that rippled through her.

I finish a glass of wine and give her an approving look. “Glad you liked the cake so much, sweetheart.”

She flushes pinker.

“It’s…orgasmic,” she says with a giggle.

Adorable.

I take her upstairs and hold her close to me, my mind spinning with the ways I can keep her.