by Linda Chorlton
You oughta know by now, that a man can't hold on forever,
so why do you keep me waiting here, when you know it makes me
want you more.... the words rushed into my my brain, from
the jukebox in the corner of the bar. They meant something in the
Phil Collins song....but they rushed into my mind, so hard they hurt.
My wife was out of town for the week, which left me without
much to do besides watch TV or go to a soccer game, or the radio.
So rather than endure the evening rush hour journey, I headed to a
nearby bar and sat on a stool to watch the traffic, after ordering a
gin and tonic to help pass the time. It was an upscale crowd -
yuppies, business men like myself, you know the type. Grey suits.
I swiveled the barstool round, getting a quick 360 of the
clientele, to discover that there was a woman sitting next to me.
A good-looking brunette in a well tailored business suit.
And unless I was very much mistaken, she had been giving me the eye.
A second full circle, she was there all right, looking at me
with an expression I couldn't quite fathom. "Rough day?," she asked,
and I relaxed and moved into the "office work" routine with half my mind
while the other half tried to figure what she was looking for. She
was friendly enough, and I tuned back into our discussion just in
time to hear myself recommend a little Chinese place for dinner.
We ate at Yank Soo's in one of the booths overlooking the river.
Separate checks, of course. She told me about life in the field of
accounting and how hard it was for a woman to get ahead in a male-
dominated area. We talked about college and career, and found a
mutual interest in old jazz. Turns out she had some early Blue Note
disks I had been looking for for years, so I asked about taping them
for my collection and she invited me to visit her little place and give
them a hearing, before deciding to record any of them.
Her "little place" was a Victorian mansion in one of the more
expensive suburbs. I pulled into the second bay of the two-car
garage, since it looked like rain. She showed me into the music room
as she went to get something to drink. I was impressed - her jazz
collection was something incredible, from rare Bird to just about
every Monk album ever released. Yet, she had modern stuff by Cassandra.
I found the records we had discussed and put one on the turntable,
then went and sat on the couch and listened. Cool, sweet, jazz -
I closed my eyes and drank in the sound. At some point in the first
track she put a drink in my hand, and I sipped it as I listened.
The first track ended, and I opened my eyes to see her beside me
on the couch. Somehow, taking her in my arms was the easiest thing
to do, and when the second track began we just naturally rose to
start dancing. Her hands drifted down to the base of my spine, and
I became aware of the points of her breasts through the red silk blouse
she wore. We turned so she was dancing with her back to me, moving
her hips back into mine. I cupped her breasts, and heard her sigh
as she leaned back into me. She turned around, and as our dance went
on she unbuttoned my shirt, then removed it and my jacket. Next
to go was her jacket and blouse, and we danced through the next
solo with her hands inside the back of my pants.
"Come upstairs," she breathed, running one hand between my
legs, and I didn't have the will to resist her. She unfastened
my pants there in the music room, leaving me in just my boxers,
took off her bra, and kissed me long and deep, my hands roamed
over her back, tracing her bra-strap outline,then down farther.
She led me upstairs, wiggling slightly accentuated steps, allowing
me to snatch glimpses of her thighs and the cheeks of her bum. With one
hand in my shorts, she opened the door to her bedroom. There was
a large 5 foot bed there, a music system equal to the one downstairs,
and a low metal Sixties-style bench with a leopard fur seat by a curtained
wall. She asked me to sit on the bench, and as the music from
downstairs continued, used her own fingers to bring her nipples
into proud erection. Her body had assumed the rythym of the recording,
and swayed too and fro like a young willow tree in a breeze, really
turning me on. My senses reeled, the sound of the music sweet to my ear,
The smell of her Issy Myake perfume was affecting my brain, if only
I could touch that body...."Kiss me," she said, offering a ripe tit,
and I did so, sucking it into my mouth with both lips and tongue.
"Harder," she moaned, and I used my teeth and tongue, feeling it
become stiff and swollen. She pulled away, then offered the other
breast for the same treatment. A second time she pulled away, this time,
her face - indeed her whole upper body - was flushed. She beckoned me
to move nearer, with one finger, and as I approached her, she teasingly
began to slip her skirt off, revealing a pair of black and red lacey
crotchless panties. This was a signal to my basic animal instincts.
I slipped a finger between her thighs, to discover that she was
warm and wet already.
When she asked me to turn around, I did so, facing the bench and
wall as she draged my shorts down, allowing my stiffened woody to
spring free to smack audibly against my stomach. I felt her hands
move down my legs, and then heard a clicking sound. I looked down to
realise that she had just fastened a set of fur-lined cuffs around
my ankles and connected them to the bottom legs of the bench.
She pushed me forward, and as I fell she grabbed one arm, then the other,
fastening them, likewise, to the other end of the bench. I began to
think about the design of the bench in a different light now.
The seat of the bench ran from just below my neck to just above my waist,
then its legs splayed out at an angle, leaving me open to the air
from the belly button to mid-thigh. I couldn't see what she was doing,
but I could still smell her private aroma, which maintained my flagging
erection, in the slightly fearsome predicament that I was in.
She slid a footstool beneath my chin, lifting my head so I could
see the slit in her panties and smell the juices that were already
oozing out of her shaven pussy. Oh my God - BP - Bald Pussy.. that was
enough arousal to make me shoot my jizm there and then. As she slid forward, I stretched my curled tongue out to enter her rim of pink, finding her hot and wet inside. The warm softness mixed with swollen labia, and juice and
smell of love-juice was ecstasy. She gripped my head and gripped my hair, as
I kissed and licked inside her pussy. I ducked and dived, in and out of her
sweet muff, something I have been congratulated on quite a few times.
Shed ran trails with her nails around my ears, down the nape of my neck,
under my armpits, each nail leaving a scratch that I could feel as clearly
as if reading a map. Astonished, I felt something toying with the head of
my penis -- she had stretched out her legs and gripped me with her feet and toes.
This was the first time anyone had given me a footfuck, you really must try it.
Pulling slightly away from my face, forced me stretch my head and tongue
out further to stimulate her cunt, as she'd braced her hands on my shoulders
in order to begin working my cock with her feet. I could not hold
off, but as I began to shoot my own warm, sticky jizm everywhere,I felt
her shudder which began her own spasms around my tongue. I gasped
for air as she seemed to tug my head inside her, blocking off my nose.
Bending her knee, bringing one foot onto the stool, so her toes
were now between my face and her pussy, I could see into her love-hole.
"Suck," she commanded, and despite some misgivings I did, mingling the
acrid taste of my own fluid with the heavy smell of her juices.
She buried my face inside her pussy again, and I licked and nibbled
her mound of venus until she was satisfied. She rose from the bench,
moving to my nether end, where I heard a buzzing sound, then felt a
vibrator moving over my thighs, between my legs, between my cheeks.
Parting my cheeks, I felt her finger work its way into the anus opening,
moving in and out until I relaxed. Then her finger was replaced by
something thicker that went in until my muscles clamped around a narrower
portion. She ran the vibrator over the end of the plug, and this
sensation was so intense, that to my surprise, I found myself becoming
erect again. This was moments after ejaculating, I was really amazed.
She unhooked the cuffs from the bench, and helped me to stand
erect, taking me in a fullbodied kiss, tongues fighting for space,
then sliding slowly down my body to taste and tease my nipples as
I cupped and squeezed her full breasts. Each move I made caused the
plug to wiggle, making my erection bob and jerk against her. "Poor
baby, we've been neglecting you," she said, and sank to her knees
to engulf me in the moist cavern of her mouth. I closed my eyes and
stroked her fine hair as her tongue and lips worked their magic on
my re-awakening cock, all the while her fingers were pinching,
caressing and stroking my thighs, cheeks, genitals. My breath was
becoming ragged as she held me on the edge of ejaculating.
Suddenly, she pulled away, holding me in her hand as she led me to a
curtained wall, then drew the curtain back to reveal a large metal
frame with D-rings at the corners. She backed me up and attached
my feet to the corners, spreading my legs to do so. A jar of honey appeared
from nowhere, was tipped over my lower body, which she then kissed and
licked, all the way up my body, finally lifting my arms and hooking their
cuffs to the top corners of the frame. By now she was riding on top
of me, rubbing her labia around my aching member, her full and ample
breasts bouncing hot against my chest.
She moved her head down to kiss and tease my nipple, then made
me gasp as she clipped something to it. She repeated the treatment
on my other nipple, then slid down and wrapped her breasts around
my erection, bring it up harder (if possible). Now she attached
some sort of clamp to the skin just below the head, with a weight
attached to the clamp. The weight magnified every movement I make.
As she stepped away from the frame, my attention wavered between the
growing pain at my nipples, the constant reminder of the anal plug,
and the self-jerking action of my cock. Her face was radiant as she
watched me quiver.
She asked me, "What would you like first?," but I could not
give her an answer. Remove the clips? Take me into her mouth?
Unhook my arms? She chuckled at my indecision, then went to the
side of the frame, unhooked a bar, and swung the frame out, now
perpendicular to the wall. "You'll like this, I think" she said,
scraping her nails up my ass cheeks, wiggling the plug to draw a
low moan from me. She took the weight and fastened it to the anal
plug, so every motion I made was now magnified.
I heard her step away, then I could not hear her at all. My
nipples felt on fire, and all the squirming I could manage in that
frame would not budge them. But all that movement did was to shake the
weight and move the plug, making my aching erection harder. Where
did she go? I began to worry how long she was going to leave me
and finally yelled "Hello? Where are you?" I got my answer as my
ass exploded in pain. Whack! Whack! She had re-entered the room
quietly and now was strapping my ass. I cried out from the shock,
her only response was more laughter. Every jolt of the strap seemed
to run from the base of my ass cheeks to the head of my erection.
When she finally stopped the spanking, I thanked her profusely,
asking what she wanted from me. "Aren't you enjoying yourself?,"
she answered, "Oh, silly me, you have all these tight muscles that
need to be loosened." She began stroking my ass, her palms cool
relief against my abused flesh. She started moving the anal plug
in and out, fucking my ass with it while the attached weight pulled
my cock up and down in return. The sensations finally overwhelmed
me, and without her ever touching my cock directly I came, long and
hard, in spasm after spasm, her fingers continuing to move until I
was slumped almost lifeless in the frame. I barely whimpered at the pain
when she removed the clips, to release me from the frame.
Eventually I gathered the strength to get dressed - she had done
so already and had coffee brewing down in the kitchen. We shared a
cup together in silence. As I got up to leave, she said "We really
must get together again." The thought was tempting, but thinking
of my wife, I declined. "No, I really think we must" she said more
firmly, and handed me a photograph.
I hadn't noticed a camera at the time, but the photograph was
clearly recognisable as me, naked in the frame, nipples clipped,
face locked in a sadistic look of pleasure, strands of semen flying in
the air. "I have your number," she said as I left.
You oughta know by now, that no man can sleep at night with a
burning in his heart that would tear a man apart. Take me out of
this misery.... I know that you have the number.....please call!
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