Hello! It seems Giovanna and Dylan are the couple my inspiration is directed toward at the moment, so here is the latest in their story.
It’s time for the annual Red & Black Ball (RABB), and like the good daughter she is, Giovanna is going along to support her parents. Will it be another boring RABB, or will this year be different?
“You realise you said ‘just five more minutes‘ half an hour ago, right?” Dylan called out from their bedroom as Giovanna was applying the final touches to her make up.
“You realise you said you’d stop nagging me an hour ago, right?” Giovanna countered teasingly and Dylan laughed.
Giving herself a final once-over in the mirror and deciding she didn’t look half bad, Giovanna opened the ensuite door and stepped into the bedroom, ready for Dylan’s seal of approval.
“Holy fuck,” Dylan exclaimed.
“You like?” Giovanna asked nervously.
“More than like,” Dylan replied and swallowed loudly. “You sure we have to go to this thing?”
“You know we do,” Giovanna giggled as he playfully kissed her neck, making sure to graze her flesh with his teeth.
“If you’ve been to one Red and Black you’ve been to all of them,” Dylan scoffed. “I can think of something that would be far more enjoyable.”
So could she. The annual ‘Red and Black Ball‘ was a fundraising event held by her parents to raise money for various charities they were involved with. It was for a good cause, but every year it was the same stuffy, rich people trying to one up each other; she didn’t really care who owned the most expensive beach house, the biggest yacht or the fanciest car, but everyone else seemed to. Oh well. It was one night a year, and she owed it to her parents to support them.
“We can have our own little after party when we get home,” Giovanna said suggestively.
“I will hold you to that,” Dylan replied, cupping her face in his hands and kissing her tenderly.
He pressed her against the wall and the kissing became frantic, tongues moving together, quiet moans and whimpers growing louder as they quickly became breathless.
All Giovanna wanted was to feel Dylan’s hands between her thighs as he spread her legs open, soon to be followed by the sensation of her pussy stretching to accommodate his cock as he pressed inside her. She wanted to writhe around beneath him and feel that layer of sweat developing between them as they got closer to their impending orgasms, she wanted the friction, the heat, the whitewash of pleasure.
It was far too easy to get carried away where Dylan was concerned.
“We need to go,” Giovanna whimpered against his mouth as he pulled the skirt of her dress up and moved a hand between her legs.
“I know we do,” Dylan replied, rubbing her clitoris through her panties.
“We really do.” Giovanna’s sigh was equal parts frustration and pleasure.
“Okay, let’s go.” Dylan slipped two fingers inside her panties and she moaned loudly at the welcome intrusion of his fingers against her wet flesh.
“Ye- yes.” Giovanna’s voice shook at the feeling of fingers sliding inside her.
“Come on then.” Dylan whispered, tugging gently on her earlobe at the same time he spread the two fingers inside her apart, stretching her in a way that made her pussy convulse.
“Baby, we need to g-”
It was pointless; she wasn’t going anywhere, not until Dylan had finished what he’d started. He rubbed his thumb over her clit in small circular motions, easily finding her g-spot with his fingers, the combination of the two making her moan loudly.
All Giovanna could do was hold onto his shoulders and hope her legs didn’t give out at the pivotal moment. There was, after all, nothing worse than a lost orgasm. She needn’t have worried.
Two minutes was all it took for Dylan to stroke her to a state of ecstacy, her orgasm powerful and intense, the type that would usually render her useless for at least an hour afterward. They didn’t have the luxury of time that night however, and it was with very shaky legs – and wet panties – that Giovanna followed Dylan out to the car.
“Hey Mum,” Giovanna said twenty minutes later when they finally made it to the ballroom.
“Hi sweety.” Her mum hugged her tightly and kissed her on the cheek. “You look gorgeous, and I’m not just saying that because I’m your mum.”
Giovanna laughed. “This old thing?” she joked, secretly glad her mum had complimented her.
“And you, Dylan, look very handsome!” Her mum hugged Dylan and smiled as she stepped back to look at them. “Get on over to the photographer so you can have your photo taken, I will send a copy to grandma and Aunty Lou.”
What she really meant was ‘I want to rub it in to my sister that my child is someone I’m proud of, unlike your shithead, drug-addicted, lazy-ass kids who steal from you‘. Fair enough too, Louise was a complete bitch.
They smiled for the camera, but one photo wasn’t enough, of course. Her mum insisted on having a photo with the two of them, and then upon seeing her father walking past, she dragged him in for a photo. Dylan’s offer of moving to the side so they could have a family photo was brushed aside, her father reminding Dylan that he was part of the family.
That made Giovanna incredibly happy; her parents were amazing people and she considered herself lucky that they loved her boyfriend as much as they did. A lot of people she knew had parents or other family members who didn’t agree with their choice of partner, which created a lot of tension. Luckily it wasn’t something she’d experienced.
“Your mum was right when she said you look gorgeous,” Dylan told her when they were sat down, each with a flute of champagne.
“Thank you,” Giovanna replied, smiling softly at him. “She was just as right when she said you look handsome.”
The dress code for the Red and Black Ball was, as the name suggested, formal attire in red or black. Usually women wore red dresses and men wore black suits, but in the few years she’d been attending Giovanna had seen more than a few men in red suits; some could pull it off but most, she felt, should stick to black.
Dylan looked almost edible in his black suit with crisp white shirt and red tie, but then as far as she was concerned, he always looked good. She often felt plain in comparison to him, but that night she did feel the cliché million bucks. Her cocktail dress was black and (other than the colour!) very Grecian inspired; it was made of lovely floaty black silk chiffon and hugged her curves in all the right places.
The dress was beautifully form fitting from the waist up, but the skirt itself was flowing and made her feel like a princess. She loved the attention to detail on the bust, the gentle folds in the fabric which gave the dress texture, and the way the sweetheart neckline emphasised her breasts, but not in a way that was tacky. The dress was punctuated by contrasting red accents in the form of her new Louboutin heels, freshly manicured red nails, and on her lips she wore vixen red lipstick.
Of course she’d had to redo her lipstick before they eventually made it out of the house earlier that evening.
“Where did your mind just wander to?” Dylan enquired and Giovanna bit her lip.
“Just thinking about, um, before we left the house,” Giovanna replied.
“I have been thinking about that too,” Dylan said knowingly and grinned wickedly at her. “I figured it was a good compromise.”
“A compromise?” Giovanna asked and Dylan smirked.
“Well, what I really wanted to do was bury myself inside you and show you exactly how sexy I think you look,” Dylan began, “but I knew if we did that we wouldn’t leave the house, so I figured I could use my hand to make you come.”
“That you did,” Giovanna whimpered, remembering how it had felt to cling on to him while he had expertly assaulted her g-spot.
“You were very, very wet, I have to say.”
“All your fault,” Giovanna informed him and he shrugged.
“In that case I’m blaming you for the hard-on fast developing inside these hide-nothing dress pants.”
Taking advantage of the fact they were sitting at a table, Giovanna moved her hand to Dylan’s thigh and crept her fingers inward until they came in contact with the promised hardness. Knowing it was inappropriate didn’t stop Giovanna from lightly brushing her fingers up and down his fabric-confined erection; a bad idea really, because feeling him harden against her fingers only made her want to touch him more.
He shot her a flustered look, but Dylan wasn’t the only one feeling that way. She was yearning to take his cock properly in her hand, to touch and tease him until he was groaning and thrusting into her fist. The image in her head of his stiff cock with a droplet of pre-cum rolling slowly down the rounded tip made her whimper with need.
The quick orgasm he’d given her before they left had been a welcome way to start their night, but she also felt a bit short changed; he had been able to touch her, but she hadn’t been able to experience him.
“There are people around, remember?” Dylan hissed and Giovanna realised she was now squeezing him through his pants and he was throbbing against her palm and she could feel the heat radiating through the soft fabric of his dress pants.
“I didn’t meant to do that,” Giovanna replied, biting her lip and trying to breathe at a normal rate, trying to ignore the heat radiating through the soft fabric of his dress pants.
Her heart was racing and she could feel her clitoris pulsing in time. It was a bad, bad idea to be reminiscing in such a public place, and when they weren’t going to be home for another three hours, if they were lucky.
Giovanna’s hand had a mind of its own though, and even as she was telling herself to stop it, her hand was still massaging him. Shit. She had to do something before they found themselves in a very embarrassing situation, not to mention how horrified her parents would be.
“You really need to stop,” Dylan’s voice was pure agony, his face telling the same story.
She freed him from her grip and immediately missed the feeling of his cock in her palm. It was by no means a convenient – and definitely not an appropriate – time, but it had all become too much for Giovanna and she needed to take drastic action.
Leaning in to him, she whispered, “the office I used when I was doing my post-grad study? I still have the key. No one uses it, the office I mean.”
Dylan didn’t bother responding as he took his suit jacket off and stood up, making sure to hold the jacket in what looked like a casual manner, in front of his crotch. No one even looked at them as they walked through the room toward the exit and Giovanna thought they were in the clear, until she heard her name being called.
Her mum. Awkward much?
“I just have to go outside and make a call, there is some drama at work and Lucille needs to get a bit of advice from me,” Giovanna lied.
“Okay sweetheart, see you back in a few minutes then!”
“That was close” Giovanna giggled as she and Dylan walked from the ballroom and down the hall toward the little group of offices in the function centre her parents owned.
“You talking about your mum, or the fact I almost came in my pants?” Dylan joked.
“Both,” Giovanna replied, taking the keys from her handbag and unlocking the door to office 4c.
“You are a wicked, wicked woman,” Dylan growled as she pushed the door open, and pulled him inside.
“And it’s why you love me,” Giovanna said with a wink. Dylan nodded in agreement.
Want to know what happens in office 4c? The story continues right here in part two!