Page 58 of Close Encounters of the Hot Kind

"Aileen," his voice fills the room, commanding and smooth. "Put on the stockings and garter belt. And the heels. You'll wear nothing else but an overcoat."

I sit on the edge of the bed, the vibrator still inside me, dormant for now. I pick up the sheer thigh-high stockings, rolling them up my legs one at a time. The silky material feels decadent against my skin.

"Am I going somewhere?" I ask, clipping the stockings to the garter belt. The heels are next, black and strappy, wrapping around my ankles.

"Yes," Varak says, a hint of amusement in his voice. "You're coming..."

Suddenly, all three vibrators spring to life—the nipple clamps, the one inside me, and a third I hadn't even noticed, pressed against my clit. The sensation is overwhelming, and I flop back onto the bed, writhing in ecstasy.

"...to meet me," he finishes, but I can barely hear him over the sound of my own moans. I can't respond, can't even think straight as waves of pleasure crash over me. I'm too busy cumming my brains out, lost in the intensity of the moment.

The vibrators abruptly shut off, leaving me gasping on the bed. My body tingles from head to toe, nerves still sparking with residual pleasure. I blink rapidly, grounding myself back into reality. The note from Varak lies crumpled beside me, and I remember his command.

"Meet me in the lobby bar."

I slide off the bed, my legs wobbly but compliant. The overcoat is sleek and black, falling to mid-thigh. I slip it on, the cool fabric a stark contrast to my heated skin. A quick glance in the mirror reveals flushed cheeks and bright eyes. I look... alive.

The elevator doors slide open as I approach, revealing a handful of other passengers. I step inside, the mirrored walls reflecting my not-so-innocent secret. Nobody can tell, I reassure myself, but each gaze that meets mine sends a fresh wave of heat to my face.

As the elevator begins its descent, a sudden hum resonates through my body. The vibrators. I clench my jaw, turning my face towards the wall. My hand finds its way to my mouth, teeth sinking into flesh to stifle the moan threatening to escape.

The hum intensifies, and I struggle to maintain composure. Each floor the elevator passes is a battle against the building pressure. The other passengers are blissfully unaware, engrossed in their own worlds, while I'm teetering on the edge of ecstasy.

Just as I think I can't hold back any longer, the vibrations cease. The elevator dings, announcing our arrival at the first floor. I exhale sharply, my reflection showing wide eyes and parted lips. I step out, my legs shaky but determined.

The lobby bar is dimly lit, unlike the bright elevator. My eyes adjust quickly, scanning the room until they land on Varak. He's seated at a corner table, his disguise impeccable as always. But I see past it—I see the golden eyes, the red scales, the alien warrior who has claimed my heart.

His gaze locks onto mine, a smirk on his lips. He knows exactly what he's done to me, and he's reveling in it. I take a deep breath, steeling myself for whatever comes next. This is just the beginning, after all. With Varak, it always is.

Varak pulls out my chair for me when I arrive at the table, ever the gentleman despite his alien roots. Before I can even thank him, he leans in, kissing me hard. His tongue claims my mouth, exploring with a hunger that has me feeling dizzy with heat. I melt into him, my hands gripping the lapels of his suit jacket.

Suddenly, the vibrators hum to life. I moan deeply into his mouth, my body responding eagerly to the stimulation. Varak's kiss becomes more insistent, swallowing my moans as if they were his to claim.

He pulls away just as the waiter approaches our table, leaving me breathless and flushed. The vibrators continue their relentless teasing, and I struggle to maintain a neutral expression. The waiter, a young man with a polite smile, hands us our menus.

"Good evening, what can I get for you tonight?" he asks, oblivious to the storm raging inside me.

I open my mouth to speak, but Varak beats me to it. "The lady will have the chef's special," he says, his gaze dancing with mischief. The vibrations intensify, and I grip the edge of the table, knuckles turning white.

"And for you, sir?" the waiter asks, turning to Varak.

"The same," Varak replies, his voice steady despite the wicked game he's playing.

The waiter nods and leaves, taking our menus with him. The moment he's out of earshot, I grab my napkin and stuff it into my mouth, stifling the groan that threatens to escape. The orgasm hits me like a freight train, waves of pleasure crashing over me. I pound my fist against my stocking-clad thigh, thesensation of silk against skin grounding me as I ride out the storm.

Varak watches me. I glare at him, even as I crave more.

As the last of the tremors fade, I pull the napkin from my mouth, my breath coming in ragged gasps. Varak's smile softens, and he reaches across the table to take my hand, his thumb tracing circles on my palm. The gesture is surprisingly tender, icing on the cake of intense pleasure he just subjected me to.

But that's Varak for you. Always full of surprises.

"Are you enjoying your evening, my sweet?" Varak asks, playfully.

"Yes," I say, trying to keep my voice steady. "You're a prick, but yes."

Varak laughs. He leans in, his voice low and husky. "I can always scale things up. Imagine trying to sing karaoke while I have my little toy buzzing inside of you..."

His hand disappears under the table, and I tense up, knowing what's coming. The vibe turns back on, and I try to keep my composure. A groan escapes my lips, soft but audible.

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