She turns her face, chin still resting on her arms, and gives me a smile filled with gratitude and tenderness. It causes my breath to hitch, because it’s the most expressive I’ve ever seen her, and she’s more beautiful than I can ever imagine anything being.
Reaching out, I carefully cup my hand behind her neck, very aware not to mess up her long locks curled and pinned on top of her head. I squeeze and lean closer to her. “I’d gladly take the tour of this opera house every day for the rest of my life if it made you happy.”
Sela chuckles with amusement and her eyes shine even brighter. “Hated it that much, did you?”
“Not at all,” I tell her smoothly. “When I was bored, I just stared at your ass the entire time. So that means I very much enjoyed the tour today.”
“Pervert,” she says affectionately, and pulls back from the balcony. It causes my hand to fall away from her, but I still take a moment to let my fingers travel over her bare shoulder. It also fills me with no small measure of pride when she shivers from that touch.
The lights start to dim, and from the orchestra pit just in front of the stage, a long, low note from a cello sounds. Looks like the show is getting ready to start.
My chair sits beside Sela’s so closely it’s an easy reach for me to grab her hand and pull it over onto to my lap to hold. She gives me an acknowledging squeeze but sits up straighter in her chair, eager for the performance to start.
I lean casually to the right, into her space, and put my lips near her ear. “I think I forgot to tell you . . . but you look stunning tonight.”
Without taking her eyes off the stage, she whispers out of the side of her mouth. “You didn’t forget. You told me once at the hotel and once in the car on the way here.”
“Huh,” I whisper back. “Well, I’m telling you again.”
“Shhh,” she admonishes me as the music starts . . . a slow build of violins, cellos, and flutes. “It’s starting.”
I don’t move back over, but lean just a tad closer until my lips brush her ears. “You know . . . it’s so dark in here now, no one could see into this box. We could do all sorts of naughty things in here.”
I expect her to chastise me again, maybe even push me away in exasperation so I don’t ruin this experience for her. Instead, her head swivels and I can see the flickering of the stage lights in her blue eyes as she stares at me intently.
“You’re right,” she murmurs, twisting her hand from mine and placing her palm at the top of my thigh. Her fingers press in and she stares at me just a moment longer before turning her gaze back to the stage. “There are indeed all kinds of naughty things we can do in here.”
Turns out, the most naughty of things that Sela had envisioned included us fucking in that box. After the second intermission and after she shooed away the waiter who had come to check on us for a third time, and after the lights dimmed once again, Sela made her move.
Tugged me right up from my chair by a sure but delicate grip on my hand, and led me into the shadows of the back corner of the box, right where the door hinges meet the wall. As Cavaradossi sang “E Lucevan le Stelle,” I could only truly concentrate on the fact that Sela had dropped to her knees and was licking all around my cock. It wasn’t just naughty . . . it was exquisitely sinful that we’d degrade the luxury of the Staatsoper in that way. My ears completely tuned out Puccini when Sela somehow managed to climb my body and sank her gloriously wet, tight pussy onto me. I merely made a quarter turn, which placed her back against the wall, put my hands under her ass, and proceeded to fuck her as hard as I could. Thank God the music was bold and the venue perfectly arranged so it infiltrated every nook and cranny of the place, because at one point Sela shouted out as she started to come. I had to slap a hand quickly over her mouth, but I was so goddamned turned on it wasn’t long before I was