0 comments/ 10111 views/ 3 favorites Leading "Sweetness" Further Astray Ch. 01 By: tall_dark_sinister For those who have enjoyed my prior submissions and asked for others, this story submission is intended to be the 1st of a three part series and to satisfy those requests. I write for women. And in my stories, I make you, the female reader, the focus and the point of attention...in my stories, the female reader IS the character...my character. My character "Sweetness" has a timid, ladylike persona in public but you have a secret, seething appetite for sex and submission...torrid, unbridled, uninhibited sex. And she (you) seek to be secretly possessed by a strong, dominant man who takes what he wants and draws every last morsel of erotic naughtiness from her imaginative mind and sultry body. Sweetness...My pussy...Let your imagination go and wander into this realm. In general, my stories are about submission and domination but this one is rather mild compared to prior submissions. Please, if you enjoy this story, read my other stories posted here, and let me know. But let me know what direction you would like the next chapter of this story to take...where should I take you...how far astray should I lead you...what should I do to, and for you? The mind is an incredible tool...use it. Offer shape for subsequent chapters. Now, let yourself slip into the fantasy. Read on. Chapter 1. You step very carefully out of the taxi cab. Your short, ultra-tight tube-dress is already at your thighs, reaching just barely below your ass-cheeks. Anyone looking would probably get a glimpse of your shaven and so needy pussy as your swelteringly hot legs spread while exiting. No panties...for you know and obey...no panties in my presence; your pussy is warm and moist. Once standing upright, you hesitate on the pavement for a few moments, the sinking sun behind you, looking at the tall and strangely intimidating doorman and the regal looking façade of the hotel. You breathe nervously, heavily as the passing pedestrians turn to look you up-and down. The passing men take a second look over their shoulders; some a third, and some never stop staring. "This is it," you tell yourself. All that time, all those previous dates around home...it's all been building up to this point. Three days ago I sent you an airline ticket to this amazing resort destination and a brief note. The note only had a few directions...no pleasantries, simply dominant, mysterious directions. One said, "Sweetness, My sweet little slut, drop everything and meet me, Yours, Michael." The 2nd said, "Travel comfortably, but change into this outfit at the airport for the trip to the hotel." And the package that arrived with the note? Well, it contained the tightest, shortest most erotic dress you'd ever seen. You knew to obey, and frankly we both knew you would. Today. In the heat of the anxious moment. After flying non-stop for many hours, but now dressed as ordered...in that sultry slip of cloth, your 5-inch stiletto heels, and your choker, the fear and the excitement and the shear lust of the moment hits your stomach and makes your heart race as you battle against yourself to decide, are you in or are you out? The doorman smiles. He knows. You are sure he knows, you think to yourself. Why is he smiling, if he doesn't know? But it is this man's seemingly knowing and annoyingly judgmental smile that makes up your mind. You confidently smile back, point to your very small over-night bag and ask the doorman to call a porter. Then, you strut forward, hips swaying erotically, trying to hide everything, but failing; exposing all your curves and all your fears, but suggesting all your naughty desires. You enter the hotel and take a look around the huge, dominating foyer. You wonder if I am there yet; perhaps watching from afar; perhaps awaiting your arrival. You feel that you are already on display for me...NO. You know it. You know that this part is my test. Your instructions were otherwise quite vague. But you suspect that I am enjoying the way you feel as you attempt to check into the hotel I've chosen. We planned three nights in this beautiful place and you suspect it will be a very full three nights. And secretly, you plan to surprise me. Convinced I am there watching you, you gather your thoughts, but hesitate, waiting for the porter carrying your bag to catch up with you before approaching the reception counter. You turn and catch him staring at your ass. Swiftly, you turn back and slowly, carefully walk forwards, legs crossing, hips swaying, shimmering hair flowing down your uncovered back. Dressed in the provocative short black tube dress that clings to every vivacious curve, your black choker and slinky black stilettos, you don't look quite right crossing the foyer. Amongst the rich, but more comfortably dressed guests, you look too sultry for this time of day. The front-desk clerk looks you up and down, and once again you feel judged. You feel your face flush at the almost prying visual invasion she gives you. All the third, (and final) part of my instructions gave you was a list of items you were to bring this weekend, (the tube skirt, a bikini, your stilettos and choker and your cosmetics and toiletries), a direction that someone would meet you at the bar if I was delayed, and the name to ask for as you arrive. "I am here to meet...Michael" you announce, determined not to speak shyly. "Michael." That's all I gave you, as if there was only one Michael in the whole wide world. The receptionist smiles, asking you to wait one moment and retrieves an envelope from back of the desk, turns back and hands it to you. "Michael instructed me to give this to you, he would like you to wait in the bar. We will send your case to the suite, I'm sure you will, ah how should I say...ENJOY your stay." she says with a knowing smirk. You reach out with your petite hand and quizzically, curiously and cautiously take the envelope; your blue painted nails contrasting against the pristine white paper. When she sees them, she stares for one moment before looking up knowingly into your eyes. You defensively pull your hand back and slowly step back from the reception desk, hiding your hands by folding your arms over your chest. "Thank you," you say coyly, the confidence in your voice knocked askew by this surprise. "She seems to know too." you think silently. You turn hurriedly and fairly run towards the bar, looking around to see if you can spot me, opening the envelope and beginning to read the note inside as you scurry. 'Good girl," it reads. "You have done well so far, I know you are nervous. Know this; I can see you, dressed just as I want you, so fuckable my dear. Can you feel all eyes watching you? Can you feel the eyes of the other guests, looking at you, suspecting that you are here for some sordid reason? Do you realize that you are every man in this hotel's fantasy, and every woman in this hotel's worst fear? All the men desire you...all the woman wish to be you. Flaunt your beauty my dear and make them all jealous. You are to go to the bar, take a stool and order a champagne cocktail, I want to see you perch on that high stool in that outfit. I want to see you struggle to keep your dignity in that dress. I will show myself and meet you there in due time, be ready." You slip the note into your purse and look around again. You think to yourself that by looking around; searching so blatantly only serves to show others that you are not in control, so you stop, hold your head up and enter the lounge. You choose a stool in the center of the bar. They seem so high. With difficulty, you slide onto the seat, keeping your sultry, seductive legs tightly pressed together, tugging first at the hemline across your thighs, so as to hide your freshly shaven pussy and the dampness on your inner thighs, and then at the chest-line, pulling it up over your heaving cleavage. You sense your little pink nipples stretching the tight fabric for all to see. You feel as comfortable as you can (while obviously dressed for exhibition and exposure). You order your drink. You sit quietly, sipping daintily-femininely, but soon feel a little giddy as you reach the bottom of the glass faster than is normal for you. Nervous, you order another for courage and shift your weight, crossing your legs to the opposite side. For twenty-five minutes you sit, still but nervous; getting more anxious by the moment...twenty-five long, excruciating minutes when I do not arrive, and when every man in this room gawks hungrily upon you. You squirm uncomfortably, continually trying to both cover and compose yourself. As is occasionally your singular flaw, you begin to worry needlessly that I have decided that I no longer wish to be with you, that you have failed me in some way. Lost in your erroneous thoughts, a singular man finally works up the courage, walks up and offers to buy you another drink. Clumsily, he tries to tell you how wonderful you look while making a very awkward and demeaning pass at you. The way he approaches and his overall appeal remind you of what you so like about me as opposed to others like him. My classy, confidence level is like nothing you've every encountered before and that blatant confidence and dominant class, so absent in this stranger, intoxicates you. You look at him in a disappointed way, but trying to decide what to do...how to react. For if its true that I am watching, could I be testing you? Your mind races. You graciously accept the man's offer, (just in case this is a test), and he sits on the stool beside you and begins to make small talk. All while he talks, you look around cautiously, paying him little mind? As he talks, he slips his hand onto your knee, rather presumptuously and begins to get pushy, asking for your room number. You hate his approach and wish he would leave...not smooth enough, not confident enough, not dark enough, not at all mysterious, and not at all erotic enough. This is no test. You thank the man for the drink and ask him to leave, explaining that you are here only to meet someone...someone very special, but he refuses to go, talking louder, making comments about your attire; suggesting nastily, that you are there for one thing and one thing only. Then you feel a strong arm wrap around you, instantly comforting. Startled, you swiftly turn towards the touch when you feel a light, gentle kiss on your cheek and a strong voice in your ear. "Is this man bothering you Sweetness," I ask. As I do he immediately leaves. You turn to look at me and I am looking deep, longingly, darkly, seductively into your eyes. You instantly wonder how you could have thought that man might be connected to me; the contrast so startling. "Hello Michael," you say as I lean in to kiss you, and you fall into my arms. We kiss deep, and I feel your whole warm, quivering body pressed tightly against mine. My strong arms encircle you; the sensation you feel is protective and possessive all at once. You feel my body, strong and rippled, and smell the sweet, manly aroma of my musky scent. Wrapped in one another's arms once again, the magic is undeniable...our limbs fit like gloves, and the warm embers of desire flame fast and furious. I smell your sweet femininity and your alluring perfume, and feel your soft, girly flesh give way to my every caressing touch. Our bodies touch in all the right places; and you are amazed that you seem to be able to feel every pleasure point lit at once. After several long moments wrapped together where you seem not to want to let go, we finally break. I take your hand and you slide from the stool. I look at your outfit and smile my approval. You feel vindicated and wondrously confident now. "For you," you say, and spin on your heels to show me your curves from every angle. "For you," I say, as I first step back and open my sport coat, and then take you in my arms and press my groin hard against your hungry flesh. You sigh, and grip my arm with both of yours as we break. I lead you to the restaurant where we are shown to a very, very secluded but prestigious table. The time passes quickly as we eat our meal; we talk like it was only yesterday since our last erotic rendezvous. I ask how your journey was; you ask how my day has been and so on. I comment on your nails and your head falls a little in submission. We finish our meal and sit waiting for coffee. I slip my hand under the table and onto your thigh. You jump ever so slightly as you feel my strong hand slide up your thigh and between your legs. Involuntarily, you spread your legs, and voluntarily slide against me, then down lower into the seat, signaling your desire and displaying your submission. As you slide down, your tight dress slides up your thighs, your ass now almost completely exposed but hidden from the few other patrons by the extending table cloth. I look intently at you, not displaying any clue to my impending plans. I feel the damp arousal from your sweet pussy that has drizzled onto your thighs. Your lipstick-covered lips part and your eyes close, your nipples strain against the tiny covering fabric. I lean forwards a little, as if listening to an interesting part of a conversation and barely; just barely touch your damp pussy with one long, manly finger. You sigh, bite your lower lips and extend your eager hips in my direction. I speak very soft yet dominantly as I prepare to invade your lustful body. "You are so wet, and no panties, what a slut you are" I say calmly. You attempt to answer, but cannot. You merely moan softly and grip the edge of the table as my fingers gently slide back to caress the inside of your thighs, mere inches from your treasure. Your hips rhythmically rise and fall and your chest with them as your breathing grows heavy. "Michael," you whisper as you nervously flick a long strand of hair from your brow, (a nervous but sexy little "tick" you have but have never recognized), "You are working me into a frenzy. Please touch me there again." You look anxiously around the restaurant to see if people are looking. You sense that they are, but do not care. For now you care only about what I am doing to you. "Keep yourself under control my little slut slut, or I will stop and you will receive no more pleasure than this tonight," I demand of you. "ahhh yes Mmm Michael," you groan as you squirm under my touch, already desperate to cum. I lean in close and press my lips into the shimmering hair around your ear. "Listen to me very closely Sweetness," I naughtily whisper as I caress your thighs. "I am going to fuck you so hard and so frequently this weekend, that you will often cream and likely scream on many an occasion. But I shall tease you, toy with you and test you. You are my cum-drenchable, cock craving fuck slut aren't you?" You nod yes, and I speak again. "While I use you wantonly for my pleasure, you will beg to cum and you will beg to taste and feel my cum. And drench you I shall, I shall cover you in cum, bathe you and cover you again. I shall torment you with my cock for my enjoyment, and when you think that I am through with you, think again. For I will fill you with my cock still again. You are mine to do with as I please...mine to fuck how, when and where I please...mine to feed my cock into every orifice you own. Mine to taste and suck...every last shivering tasty inch and morsel of your flesh is mine. I will both punish and pleasure your raw, quivering flesh and I shall invade both your pleading body, your craving throat and your lusty mind. Tonight, tomorrow and the night after." You gasp. "Oh Michael," is all you can say as I continue to caress your thighs while I speak, enjoying your frustration, enjoying your predicament. Your face flushes and your eyes close tight. I feel your body tense. You bite your lip. You try not to make a sound or give the game away, but after a few seconds you begin to cry from the pain of containment. "Do you want to cum?" I ask. You nod, "Yes" forcefully YES, as your face contorts, trying to maintain control, and you bite your lower lip even harder, nearly breaking the surface of your flesh with your sharp pearly white teeth. "Tell me my slut, I want to hear your quivering voice tell me," I insist. My voice sounds so calm, so certain and so utterly powerful. You think to yourself that this sounds like everything you've always fantasized about...to be taken, to be used, to be pillaged with absolutely no semblance of control...but now, given the opportunity...do you dare? "Ooh please, please," you groan. "Sweetness," I say. "This is your one and only chance to change your mind. I shall place my fingers at your lips. If you want to call this weekend off, then push them away. Otherwise, kiss my fingers. I look into your eyes...you look into mine. Neither one of us blinks. My fingers slide up your thighs and again meet your drooling snatch. You gasp and sit up straight. Slowly two fingers begin to slip in. Your legs spread wide, and my fingers slide in as deep as the first knuckles. You quiver. I nod once, then slowly, every so slowly, I begin to slip my fingers, out, down and off your thighs. You shudder. Your body hesitates to relinquish that touch...your knees clench. I stop trying to pull them away. For several long seconds, neither one of us moves, our eyes are locked upon one another...a dare...neither one will relinquish. Then, slowly, you open your legs and release my hand. I grin and remove my fingers through the trail of moisture on your thighs, then place them at your mouth. Without hesitation, you kiss them once, very, very gently, very delicately. You close your eyes as you do so. Then, suddenly you cannot contain your greed. You wantonly grab my hand and feed my damp fingers into your mouth tasting yourself on me, sucking them with mad and obvious intent...to show me your unbridled lust and submission to my plans. Instantly ferocious and aggressive, I slide my fingers deep into your mouth, meeting no resistance 'cept for your delicate, pink, licking tongue and your lips close around them. You suck hungrily, greedily. I push you onto your back in the booth, and lean way over your shaking body. "What a nasty little slut you are Sweetness," I say with a devious, dominant laugh. "Yes my Master," you say coyly as your eyelashes flutter girlishly...faking innocence. "All my holes are yours and yours alone, Michael," you breathily whisper...the last statement made not so innocently. With that, I sit up fast and take your hand, pull you from the booth and guide you out of the restaurant to the elevator. You are trembling as we walk, but so overwhelmed with lust and desire that you barely recognize the disheveled fit of your dress, and barely care. I pull you forward hungrily. You skitter behind me, trying to keep up in your naughty, sexy heels. Your tight, smooth, exposed legs flex athletically, erotically with each step. Your exposed thighs rub delightfully with each sauntering, wiggly step. You feel the stream of pussy juice, now drying white on the inside of your thighs. You smell your arousal in the air. As you scurry you notice the looks from the guests and hotel staff; the knowing smiles as they see me leading; no dragging you onward towards what is obviously going to be a hot and steamy night. Those that pass, turn to take a second look at your suggestive naughtiness. From afar witnesses strain their necks to take a peek. My gaze is straight ahead. Your gaze is from side-to-side. I fairly drag you, like a disobedient little girl. Alone, we enter the elevator, many sets of eyes still upon us until the doors close. When they do, you swiftly fall into my arms and kiss me passionately; your tongue soaks my lips as you wantonly taste my flesh. But over my shoulder, you see the security camera, and stop, stepping back, at first, startled and your confidence temporarily shaken. But I lean in, pressing my strong supple body against your own and kiss you so hard, so passionately, that you feel my hardness through my trousers and your lips mashed on your teeth. Leading "Sweetness" Further Astray Ch. 01 The elevator motors whir and our ascent begins even as our hot embrace and passionate kiss continues. Your head spins dizzily from the combination of the unsteadiness of travel, the liquor you've consumed, the eroticism you sense, the lust you feel, the pleasure you crave and the dance my tongue does between your lips. I reach for your wet slit. But you try to pull away, frightened by the little red light glowing on the camera which indicates that it is active, and you accidentally press the stop button on the panel. We jolt to a halt. Never hesitating, I hungrily grope at your clothing. At first, you squirm in terror. I reach under your dress and rip it up over your waist, exposing your ass and the golden, glistening, utterly soaked, but shaved-slick pussy you carry for me...exposing what we already knew...that you obediently went pantyless on my order...finally. "Your submission begins," I snarl. You look up into my eyes startled, and try to pull it down again. " Mich ..." you start. But I roughly place a hand over your mouth, and pull your hands away. Then, I ravage your firm, ripe breasts through the fabric of your dress as I devour the flesh upon your neck just above your exposed shoulder and under your choker. You whimper and squirm, trying to pry my lips from your neck and press your own lips against mine. I grasp your shoulders and stare into your eyes. Now too aroused to contain yourself any longer, you shift your weight and step into me trying to press your wetness against my contained pole. "Damn the camera," you think to yourself. My hands slide down your bare shoulders and...RIP your dress down, exposing your heaving tits and rigid pink nipples. You step back and cross your arms in front of you. You skirt now rests in a thin belt around your stomach, all your womanly treasures exposed...standing at my mercy in this god-forsaken elevator....in your nasty stilettos and slave choker; standing near naked while someone, somewhere sitting at a security desk looks on. All you can think about now, is the elevator door opening upon some unsuspecting stranger. Your mind shuffles back and forth...on the one hand, you feel the need to be discreet...on the other hand you feel the need to be filled with cock. Your nipples hurt, a hurt brought on by a desperate desire to be savagely licked and sucked. Your clit throbs...your pussy flows. You decide...incredibly, all you can think about now, is that YOU DON'T CARE. "Cock" you say...no formalities, just cock. You reach for my crotch. "Feed me that cock, fuck my face," you groan with no hint of inhibition. I step forward. It takes little effort for me to 'push' you to your knees. You look up into my face and for the umpteenth time tonight you see the animal lust in my eyes and I see the hungry greed in yours. I quickly unzip my fly and fish out my big, glorious cock. As I again press the elevator start button, I don't have to force your face to my cock. You dive for it, wrapping the long, lithe fingers of both your delicate hands around the shaft. The blue polish contrasts strikingly against my flesh. That sight always excites me. "Take it in, my slut," I say, "you have very little time." You attack with a vengeance, and expertly begin to bathe me with your tongue, flicking the sensitive head, licking my long shaft and swollen balls, thoroughly wetting me. You eagerly lick away the precum gathering at the tip and moan lightly as you taste my fluids. You then wrap your bright red lips about my meaty pole and slide your mouth down, sucking hard and soft and deep, oh God so deep, (nearly to the base of my big 10 inch). Your fingers wrap around the base of my shaft and stroke in time with your mouth movements. Mere moments into your oral act, I grasp your hair and begin to pump furiously in and out of your eager mouth, fucking your face. You willingly allow me to enter your tight throat, past your tonsils as you deep-throat me...your muscles contracting around my meaty pole. Purposely, I use my hands and my flesh to smear your flaming-red lipstick on your cheeks. One hand releases my cock and you reach and slide your own fingers into your glistening snatch...your hips and torso shake in rhythm with my thrusts. You sigh in relief as your fingers twirl around your own clit, heightening your arousal. You sense your naked knees burning on the rough carpet below you. You feel my cock swell...I feel you suck ever harder...ever deeper...you stop for one second, and yell, "Give it to me Michael," then you take my stiff dick deep into your mouth again. With a loud groan I thrust deep and cum hard, shooting my sticky fluid into your warm, wet mouth while wrapping my hands in your golden hair and forcing your head into my lap. Blast after blast shoots into your mouth, and try as you might, some of my manly fluid spills from your lips and down your chin. You groan, so content, as you drink down my cum, relishing every drop that doesn't escape your lips...or do you moan because of the drops that escape your taste buds? I pull out of your mouth and return my cock, the cock you so desperately want inside you, back to my trousers. You hear a beep on the control panel and the elevator grinds to a halt. You just have time to stand, smooth your hair and pull your skirt down and up almost in one motion in order to cover your feminine treasures. You barely have time to wipe most of the dribbling cum from your chin with the back of your hand, but not the glob that fell onto your neck. When the doors open, only a hotel porter stares at us. "Are you alright" he asks, staring straight at you, looking at your lips, your smeared lipstick, your ruffled hair and the cum drop dribbling down your neck. You smile, and take my arm; once again my arm candy; and I lead you through the elevator doors with one hand on your sexy ass. "Never better," you reply as we exit, passing the porter on the way out. As we step into the long, bright hallway, you notice two wide gold-inlayed doors directly in front of us, but no others in the hall. You look up at me puzzled. Without looking back, I reply, "This is the penthouse suite, my dear. We have the entire ocean side of the top floor all to ourselves." You wrap your little femininity tighter around my arm, savoring the strength and support it provides. "You reserved this suite for us?" you ask. "No, I own it." I reply without looking to see your reaction. Once again you marvel at my mysterious nature. It seems there is so much and yet so very little that you know about me. The porter opens the doors to the suite for us, we step in and around your tiny overnight bag the staff left earlier. "Is there anything else, I can get you Michael, sir" he asks, obviously more than familiar with me. "Yes, Maurice" I reply as I discretely stuff a crumpled $50 bill into his hand. "A bottle of the finest champagne...make that two bottles," He scurries off, closing the door behind him. You begin to scan the suite. Of an entirely, open-and Greek architecture, no dividing walls; only supporting pedestals block any view of the massive quarters. To the left, you see a large comfortable parlor. A deep plush, white carpet covers the floor. A massive, rich-black leather sectional sofa surrounds a glass topped coffee table. An expensive tapestry covers the outside-wall behind the sectional. A huge-screen TV hangs from the ceiling high above. Two large, Georgia O'Keefe prints grace the spots at each side, starting at the ceiling and hanging half-way to the floor...not so much erotic as decoratively sensual. Not so much intimidating as comforting. Glancing up you see that a large, wide skylight-glass covers the entire concave ceiling. As night is falling, an orange-gold sunset glows through the glass and scatters in all directions about the room, Past the parlor, you see a gleaming dining-kitchen area. Marble tiles adorn the walls and floor. Glistening stainless steel appliances reflect the light back in our direction. A massive, body length, marble-top center island devoid of any adorning utensils or decorations, except for a single red rose, in a thin, yet expensive crystal vase rests in the center of the island. A large and rich dining table, with eight comforting chairs sits just to the right of the island in a conclave all its on. Two gold, 5-candle, candelabras are positioned equidistant from each end. Glancing back to the right, until your gaze is directly in front of us, you see an expanding entertainment area far across the open room. On a huge-three-step, circular black-marble pedestal, you see a white Steinway-grand piano. On the side-wall, entertainment center equipment lies mostly hidden among Amazonian plants on a floor to ceiling, mahoghany bookshelf embedded in that wall. So large and intimidating, is that bookshelf, and so mysteriously private do I keep my background that you can almost imagine that there might be a remote control somewhere in this room, that if pressed would rotate the bookshelf and provide access to another one of my secret lairs. You secretly giggle at that thought and I curiously look upon you; wondering, "why the little laugh?" You walk towards the piano, climb the pedestal, and run your hands along it's gleaming-white surface. I lift you by the waist and sit you upon the piano body. The exotic contrast of the black marble, the white piano, your black, naughty skirt and your creamy white flesh exhilarates my eyes and mind. I step back to take all your beauty in. I then walk towards the entertainment center and turn on the stereo and turn down the lighting. Instantly, soothing music fills the suite from what seems like all directions as the mood intensifies in the calming shadows. You feel the rhythm and tempo seeping through your body and almost feel an electricity stimulating your flesh. Feeling comfortable, your body begins to sway to the illustrious texture of the romantic sounds. You crawl sexily deeper up onto the piano...crawling first like a soft kitten, but as the sexual electricity begins to invade your mind, you begin to crawl like a slithering snake...teasing, taunting me with an erotic visual seduction. Having climbed the pedestal, and posed upon the piano, your view of the rear of the suite is now open. To the rear, you see a massive sleeping area. You sit up, slide down the piano to the marble base and scamper down the pedestal steps towards what you envision as an erotic playground. The floor here, is covered with a thick rich, jet-black carpet. But the bed? Like the piano, it too resides, high and resplendent on a marble pedestal. The sheer size and odd shape of it utterly amaze you...twice the size of any bed you've ever seen, but also round. And, it is placed directly below the largest, widest skylight in the suite...larger and wider even than the bed or the skylight in the parlor. The bed is covered in a virgin white velvet spread and white-silk sheets, but what is most striking, is the mood and lighting...a bank of twelve floodlights surround the massive overhead skylight, raining subdued, but scarlet-red light down upon the bed. Virgin white on jet-black, highlighted by scarlet red...a sensational visual orgasm for the eyes. You look up through the skylight and realize that to make love upon this bed, under this lighting, would be a sight clearly visible and an accentuated highlight from the sky. You scamper up the pedestal leading to this "STAGE" and fall in a heap on your stomach, sinking into the plush, comfort it provides. Now, you see the circular headboard that surrounds one-forth of this bed. On it, rests every sort of sexual toy...dildos, vibrators, bondage toys, spanking implements, nipple and clit clamps, ball-gags, oils...anything imaginable, some you've used, some you imagine someday using and some, your until-recently-innocent and sheltered mind never imagined. It also contains a single photo of you and I wrapped in a warm embrace. In it, my uncovered back is toward the camera; your legs wrapped around my torso and locked tightly around my waist, your hands buried in my hair and your face clearly visible over my left shoulder. Obviously impaled and deep in the throes of an intense orgasm, the look on your face in the photo is one of pure and utter ecstasy and deep and abiding trust and affection. Pure pleasure is clearly evident. "Oh Michael, Take me...Take me right here and now," you groan, as you roll to your back and hurriedly begin to peel your dress down over your breasts." As you've been scurrying swiftly from one potential "fuck-spot" to the next, even more exciting potential fuck-spot, I finally catch up to you, and having gathered your bag, I drop it on the carpeted floor leading to the bed's pedestal and hurriedly scamper up after you. "Not yet, Sweetness, there is more," I respond as I stop your strip-tease and take your hand, pulling you from the bed even as you half succeed in plying your dress from your goddess body. As I pull you off the bed, you half-resist and pout girlishly. Down the bed-pedestal stairs we climb; you still dressed in your stilettos so that you sexily and carefully step down, knees to one side as you descend. I feel your fingers intertwined in mine and squeeze a bit harder. You respond, signaling your recognition by squeezing back ever tighter. I feel your second hand rest gently on the back of mine. Suddenly, I turn and whip you into my tight embrace...our foreheads rest together, our eyes locked, "Maybe I can't wait," I say and rip your dress up and over your head in one surprise, masculine act. Then swiftly I lift you, your knees under one arm, and your arms encircling my neck and I carry you to a set of frosted glass doors. I revel in the touch of your soft flesh against my clothed body and long to strip naked...better still to have you strip me naked. I kick the doors open to reveal a large patio deck overlooking the ocean from high above in our sixty-ninth floor vantage point. To the left, a large hot tub, to the right, ornate patio furniture and seductive garden plants. In front, a strong, brass-covered rail extends far down the side of the building and around the corners. The sensual sunset seduces. The crystal clear, and motionless ocean extends as far as the eye can see. "Oh, Michael, its beautiful," you sigh as I hold you in my arms and allow you to take in the erotic view. Suddenly my business cell phone rings and this time, it is I who sigh, for normally, in your presence, I would not answer. Bt this number is reserved for the most very important of all my calls. I set you down onto your feet, and take the phone from my belt. "Michael here. State your business," I speak into the phone as I shrug my shoulders at you once before turning my back to take this call. Naked except for your heels and choker, but comfortable in our seclusion, you wander towards the hot tub and dip your delicate hand into the steamy fluid...just the right temperature. Not purposely eavesdropping, none the less, you overhear a part of my conversation. You walk to the rail overlooking the ocean, teetering on your high stilettos and devise a scheme. "Yes, I know the exhibition is tomorrow...Saturday evening...yes...we'll attend...yes, yes, yes. I know I have a responsibility; you don't have to remind me...no, no no. I won't. I can't. I don't think I can part with that asset...yes, I realize I must offer it up if I wish to continue our association...perhaps the association might be easier to break...no, I'm not suggesting that...have you ever known me to disappoint in the past? You flatter me....yes, I suppose I am an important member and event attraction...Oh, at least six or seven years now...no, none have regretted that association in the past..." you hear me say as I pace back and forth. While I talk, the porter returns with the champagne and I take it from him holding one cold bottle in each hand, and the phone trapped between my chin and shoulder. He leaves and you scamper over to helpfully take the burden of the two bottles from me. Feeling so comfortable now, you failed to even flinch when he arrived and entered. You take the bottles from me, place them on a small table on the patio, and scamper off to the bathroom to freshen up. On your way, you take your small bag. With my back still turned, I don't realize you've moved off the patio. Since this bathroom has no door, you cannot help but still hear my conversation...but you block it out. You step into the tub and take a very quick and brief cleansing shower. Then, you take a warm towel and wipe your flesh, fresh and clean. You wash the smeared lipstick from your face...you apply new make-up...you re-apply fresh nail polish. You brush your teeth and straighten your hair. You step back into your heels, slip on your choker, grab one of the two robes from the rack and throw it around your body. Finally you reach into your bag, take a tiny possession and scamper back to the patio where you hear me, still in conversation with my business associate. "...yes, I'll have a contribution for Sunday evening's event. Yes...you can count on me to be a buyer provided the goods meet with my approval...no, no limits...you do know of course, that my contribution may be priceless...there will likely be few who can afford it. No. That's the way I want it...would it please me greatly if it went un-purchased due to the exorbitant expense you ask? Yes, you might say that. Wait, wait, wait. Let's not change the rules now my friend. That would be testing our relationship....yes...yes. I will, yes. Ok, see you tomorrow evening...yes, yes, yes and the next. I didn't mean to rule either event out. Goodbye" Now, I turn my attention back to you. "Sweetness..." I start as I turn back towards the patio..."where were we..." my words trail off as I stop in my tracks. There before me...on the patio you pose. In my heels and your choker...down in the most submissive position imaginable; you pose...on your knees, ass in the air, back arched, head to the floor. Your legs are spread only slightly. I barely catch a glimpse of My glistening pussy. Splayed out before me, your hands spread on the floor in front of you...elbows on the ground...your fingernails, now painted red...as naughty red as your lips...you pose. You pose, sucking on a cherry blow pop...seemingly so innocent, but really so fuckin' naughty. My cock swiftly hardens in my trousers. I shift, I squirm. I want to take you and pound your sweet pussy right then and there. You lick your lips when I walk through the archway onto the patio. A hot-humid breeze blows, but not nearly as hot as the sensation you blaze into my eye and my insatiable mind. You raise an eyebrow, and grin suggestively, naughtily at me. With your head pressed to the patio floor, your long, long hair flows down your back and around your shoulders, pooling around you on the floor. I see you, and want you. This time, you don't even have to beg for me to fuck you. I need to... My balls begin to ache, and my mouth grows dry with sexual hunger and thirst. I shake my head and speak to myself," What is she doing to me. Remain in control, Michael." You slowly pull the blow pop from your mouth, puckering your lips as you do...pulling it so slowly that I am mesmerized...I fixate on your vision. Your beauty is an ungodly temptation. Your sexual and emotional appeal causes an inescapable craving. Your eyes are so intensely erotic and exhibit such a sensational teasing aspect that I nearly gasp, but only swallow hard so as not to betray my sense of control. At this moment you nearly claim it. I hesitate...not from lack of desire, but from an inability to escape the hypnotic effect your vision has on me. "Master, you can take me right here on this patio floor," you suggest seductively as you lift your ass higher into the air and wiggle it back and forth. "Fuck me here...leave me bruised and raw, but oh so satisfied," you breathily tease. Leading "Sweetness" Further Astray Ch. 01 Your naughty voice having broken my hypnosis, you don't have to ask twice. I rush at you, kicking my shoes off and ripping my shirt from my back without concern for the buttons. Several hit the floor and roll off the patio to the ground below. The shirt flies over the patio rail next, thrown there by me, with a total lack of concern and a total haste to disrobe....someone below will only wonder. You haven't moved an inch, although your sweet ass continues to seductively rise and fall, and there appears to be a longer trickle of moisture down one thigh... But I regain my composure and circle behind you where the patio furniture rests, as a smirk comes across my face. Behind you, I loosen my belt and you hear it hit the floor. Unseen, my cock springs to attention, almost with a mind of its own, it seems to sense impending action. Standing behind you...I order, "play with my pussy Sweetness. Show me how bad you want this cock." Then, now naked, I take a seat in the patio furniture, gently stroking my cock. This time, it is I who doesn't have to ask twice. "Like this?" you ask. Your hand slowly, very slowly slides down your torso and between your legs. From behind, I watch your fingers slowly, very slowly and toyingly slip into your shaved and utterly slick snatch, now wet, pink and engorged with desire. Not so slowly, you instantly begin to groan. Naughtily, uninhibited you stuff your digits into your pie and shiver. "Michael, fuck this Slave, fuck this cumslut," you tease. "Fuck me until I can't stand on my own two feet. Look what you've done to me," you say as you pull your fingers from your snatch and display the soaked members to me. That's enough for me. I stand and rush to your side and fall to my knees behind you, rolling you to your back, I climb onto your body, savagely licking, tasting and touching you in all the right spots. You gasp and take my head in your hands, guiding my head to your nipples. I need little direction and even less persuasion. As my probing tongue slides over your nipples, you arch your back and gasp and rub your thighs along my sides. You reach for my cock, and I slap your hand away. You reach again, and I lightly bite the bud between my teeth...you gasp again and pull your hand back of your own volition. I raise my head, "don't touch until I give permission, Sweetness," I order, before continuing my savage assault on your nipples...first one and then the other. You nod, "Yes" but speak not a word...now engrossed in your pleasure. My strong hands hold each breast. I run my rough chin across the right one, my soft tongue across the left, then vice versa, over and over again, rough...then gentle...you moan softly. Then, I lick gently, swirling my tongue around and around just the little pink buds. You moan a bit louder, wrap your arms around my head and pull me tight to your chest...your legs encircle my hips, lock behind my back and tighten...pulling me towards you. I feel your heels digging into my back. I feel your pelvis rising and falling to meet my touch, and I allow you to feel the head of my cock rubbing hard upon your clit causing your pussy to seep and making you involuntarily thrust against me, straining, struggling; desperate to be impaled. But suddenly, I sit up and crawl around you until I kneel above your head. You groan a disappointed groan, but know all too well, my teasing always amounts to added pleasure. "Perhaps I'll eat you now, Sweetness," I tell you. "Perhaps I'll eat you till you cum...that is, I will as long as you don't touch or taste. Should you do so, then your orgasm will be denied. Do you understand my little pet?" I ask. "Michael, Oh how I want that," you reply even as your hips continue to rise and fall. It always amazes and excites me how your hips involuntarily do that when you are excited. I doubt you even realize that you cannot contain the silent urging that they always signal. "I want that so bad, but I don't know if I can," you respond. "I didn't ASK if you CAN," I reply before continuing. "I insist that you must NOT." Then I dive right in. First I plant a gentle kiss on your forehead, then down over your fluttering eyelashes. Your hips rise. You plant your heels in the deck floor. My lips trail to yours just as my hands slide down over your shoulders and to your breasts. I feel the tiny goosebumps rise on your flesh, your heart pounding in your chest, and your warm breath between my lips. I smell your sweet perfume and taste your strawberry lips. Without lifting my gentle lips from yours I dominantly whisper, "Give me your tongue, slut, show me how you want me to pleasure your pussy. Demonstrate for me." You moan, and just as your tongue slips between your lips and between mine your hands fly into my hair. But I pull away and sit up. "No touching, Sweetness," I order again. "Last warning." You look at me, look down submissively and nod yes. I slowly lower myself over you again and set my strong lips gently upon yours. I slip one hand down your torso and over your pussy. You gasp, and lift your ass to meet my touch. "Now, show me," I order. The pleasure from my fingers makes you temporarily forget my promise to eat you, (and I will, just not at this moment). Your tongue slips through your lips and against mine. Gently, just the tip slides ever so slowly across my lips, just barely, every so often breaking the surface...delicate, gentle, soft, slow. My fingers find your slippery, wet pussy lips and slide ever so slowly down along the soft folds, just barely, every so often breaking the surface...delicate, gentle, soft, slow. Your tongue begins to dance tiny circles directly in the center of my lips, slowly at first, then a bit faster. You feel my warm breath on yours, and sense your concentration growing and sense every last nerve ending in your body coming alive. My fingers begin to dance tiny circles around your swollen clit, slowly at first, then a bit faster. With your tongue, you start to apply more pressure to my lips and extend the circles, now fast and torrid around my lips. I start to apply more pressure to your clit and extend the circles, now fast and torrid around the little bud. Just then, you suddenly have a realization. Your tongue is connected to the pleasure on your clit and that I am mimicking your touch. You test. You lick my lips gently...my touch upon your clit grows soft and gentle. You lick harder and my touch grows firmer...all the while your hips rise and fall and your concentration increases...you force your tongue gently between my lips and I slip my fingers into your fleshy folds. I suck your tongue softly and you clench your pussy upon my fingers. I suck your tongue hard and deep into my mouth, and bury my fingers in your pie and you clench your pussy lips hard around my digits and shudder. A breathy moan escapes your lips. Now you realize that it is I leading you...as my lips and tongue grace yours, your pussy lips grace my fingers. Out of the corner of my eye, I see your fingers balled up tight into a fist. "I must not touch," you say to yourself. "But I want to." your mind continues...such a spoiled little brat sometimes. You'll soon learn, "You can't always get what you want." I release your tongue, and pull my fingers from your snatch. You grab my wrist and force my hand back to your crotch and begin to furiously bathe my lips with your tongue, fast, deep, WET...swirling around hard one moment, then soft and delicate the next, then fast, sliding your tongue in and out of my lips...licking in long, licks along the length of my lips one moment, and then in furious fast circles in the center the next moment. You've learned that by doing so, it will result in a finger-lashing of your clit...and you want that don't you Sweetness? Yes, each time you change your approach I change my touch on your pussy to match, until we are in perfect unison and you both amaze at and enjoy the touch and the fact that for each action you apply to my lips with your tongue, there is an equal an opposite action applied to your pussy and clit by my fingers. Your hips rise and fall. Your breathing grows faster and you feel your orgasm approaching. Losing utter control, you suddenly and lustily suck my lower lip between your lips hard, while running the tip of your tongue over that trapped piece of flesh. Reciprocating, I pinch your clit and rub the bud hard, oh so very hard at the same time, and you explode... Your orgasm floods over you, you squirt a stream of warm juice and groan. Your legs tense, you raise your ass high off the floor and force it in my direction and whimper. You suck my lip hard, harder, and you clench your fingers into a tight ball...so tight that your nails hurt your flesh. But finally, I pull away and sit up while leaving my hand touching your crotch. You spasm uncontrollably...holding my wrist as I gently caress your lips and clit through the warm fuck-fluid I've called up. I slowly crawl down over your body, licking and tasting, torturing, teasing...over your chin, down your neck and over your Slave choker then to your nipples. As soon as you gasp in pleasure, I stop and sit up. Our eyes meet and yours display meek submission. That look says, Michael, I am yours." You don't realize my intent. It isn't your pleasure I seek to deny. It is your submission I seek to grow and your pleasure I seek to extend. I again, slowly crawl down over your body, licking, teasing, tasting, torturing, down your chin, over your neck, across your shoulders and slowly down your breasts and to the nipples that you force in my direction. This time, you have each breast in your hands, and you feed them toward my lips. Over your head, you see my huge, hard cock nearly touching your forehead, and you want it, Oh God how you want it. As soon as my lips and tongue touch your nipple, you groan in pleasure once again and I stop and sit up...once again. And again our eyes meet. Yours now display both meek submission and utter exasperation. For a third time, I slowly crawl down over your body, licking and torturing, teasing and tasting...over your chin once again. Down your neck and over your Slave choker, then to your hard, eager, nipple. You arch your back and once again feed your tight little tits to my mouth. But this time, you take in a deep breath and hold it. With my lips, barely touching your begging nipple I speak, "I thought you'd never learn, Sweetness." Then I devour your nipple, sucking and licking, slobbering over, and around it, taking it between my teeth one moment and then furiously licking the very tip in the next. You arch your back higher and just as you do, I slide over you father, until my face is in your crotch and my cock is over you face. "Remember," I say, "No touching." Then I dive into your snatch with my tongue. First licking the outer folds, around and over, toying with you. Your hips undulate, your heels dig into the floor. I rub my cock over your face. You want so badly to fill your mouth with my massive tool. You can feel my tongue, wet and warm upon your flesh and you cannot contain your desire. You know you can't moan or the pleasure will stop, and you need something to fill your disobedient mouth. But more than that, you want to act the little naughty, cum craving slut that you've become. You simply want it in your mouth and in your pussy...but you know that right now, you can't have it, and you both love me and hate me for what I am doing to you. And just as your mind waivers from the pleasure in your crotch, you feel it. My tongue and lips attack your clit...licking rapid rough circles around and around and over it at one moment, then licking the entire length of your slick, wet lips the next. I sit half-way up for one moment, even as my long, rigid cock continues to rub along your face and over your lips. As I sit up, I order, "Feed me that pussy, My slut. Feed me now." You lock your heels into the floor and drive your ass high off the patio floor, forcing it high in my direction, and I take your sweet ass in my hands and force your pussy into my face. Hard and rough, with no gentleness, I bathe your clit and lips with my tongue. I suck your clit and press my face into your crotch. I lick your lips, I lick and suck your clit, but every so often I stop and lick the insides of your delicious thighs, where your previous juices have tastefully dried. Even as my nails dig into your sweet ass and press your flesh hard to meet my oral touch, I lick you, not delicately, but hungrily. I feel your hands upon my back, pushing me onward. Then I feel you begin to tense. I rub my cock faster and faster, over your cheeks and lips, smearing your mascara and your lipstick in my precum and preparing to blow my load all over your pretty little face if you so much as make one breathy moan. My balls ache with a massive load...seeking relief. I feel your nails dig into my back. I feel your hot breath on my cock, (but not your tongue or lips...such an obedient little slut). Therefore, I lick faster and harder with more urgency. MY cock rubs fast and furious upon your face. I feel you take a deep, deep breath. "Feed me that pussy," I groan, then dive back in to meet your even higher rising hips. You strain, now resting only on your shoulders and neck, forcing your pussy up, so fucking high to meet my pleasuring tongue, even as your face gets tortured and teased by my humongous cock. You thighs and calves strain under your weight and mine. "Michael, I'm going to cum," you cry out. "Don't you dare, Sweetness" I order, as I stand and pull you to your feet. I drag you to the brass railing. Sixty-nine floors high, I lean you, face forward over the railing and spread your legs. Then, I hold my long, thick cock in my hands and rub it on your cunt. My face is in your hair, my lips next to your ear. "Do you want to moan and groan?" I ask. You look down and see that on the floor below, the patio extends out farther than mine, and that there is a cocktail party in progress. "Oh YES, please may I," you sigh, even as your hips shake, trying to feel my girth between your thighs. "No you may not. You must scream my pet. My friend downstairs is having a party. I want them to know you've been pleased. I insist even as my hips thrust back and forth delectably rubbing what you so desire through; but not between your soaked lips. Do you want to cum?" "OhYes.. Please, may I?" you respond as your chest heaves and your hips flow rhythmically up-and-down then side-to-side. I run my hand across your chest and feel your pert nipples, like bullets in my hands, your skin so tight and taut. I slide my hand to your crotch and feel your soaking wetness now dripping to the patio floor. The sun, makes its final descent, orange red and radiant, it finally dips below the surface of the horizon. A perfect climax to a beautiful day. You sense your perfect climax approaching. Your body is a quivering, greedy bundle of soft delicate flesh in need of sexual release. You are not spent...no far from it, and neither am I...but the weekend is still young. The night now dark and crisp, the spotlights on the patio and the city floodlights scanning the buildings occasionally highlight our act, leaving a large eerie silhouette against the wall behind. "You may cum, Sweetness," I say. "You may cum provided you feed my cock into your snatch. Bathe my cock in your juices. Ready?" I ask. "Oh Yes, I've never been so ready," you groan, glad that you have permission to act with no vocal or physical restraint, but recognizing that once again, I've heightened and extended your desire and will expand your ultimate release. With one hand, you reach between your legs for my cock and brace yourself against the railing with the other, wishing you only had three hands so that you could caress your nipples or clit as well. You consider letting go your grasp on the railing, your lust is so intense. I take your sweet hips in my strong hands even as I continue to rub my dick meat against your flesh "Get ready for the ride of your life, Slave," I say. "Ok, NOW." Without being asked twice, you lift one leg just slightly, grab my cock through your legs, and hold it to your fleshy, wet lips. I rub it there once as you start to moan...a low, moan from deep within your belly. You surprise me, that you do not gorge yourself by taking it all at once, but then you've learned so much...you've learned to enjoy the ride and every last inch...you've learned to savor the experience, the touch, the taste, the sounds and the sights. You hear my breath, fast and hot, and you sense my heart pounding. You think you can hear it, but you're not entirely certain what you hear is not the stereo or coming from the party below. You decide to conclude that it IS my heart you hear, for it seems so much more erotic to think that way. You feed my cock into your pussy until just the head is in. You accept its girth, and flex your pussy muscles around it. I feel your folds fluttering and know you are both savoring this touch and pleasurably anticipating the rest. Your breathing grows heavy even as your body grows tense. My heart pounds in my ears, wanting, wondering when you will bury my dick entirely in your treasure. You are so fucking soaked, wet and warm, and look so damn sexy resting comfortably on my dick that I nearly cum, but have the control to hold. It would be so easy to blast my load and soak your lips, but what would be the fun in disappointing you. No, that would be no good. "Feed it in, Sweetness," I order, trying hard not to betray my lack of full and utter patience. You reach back for the second handful. You press back against me even as you stuff my long thick cock between your lips. You tense as it slowly slips in, until you stuff all of the fuckmeat into you; burying it to the hilt. Then, you swiftly reach for your tits and pinch one nipple. "Arggg, hhhmmmm," you start to hum, like a bee as you begin to ride me. I shift and wiggle my hips against yours. Not until it is almost all in do I start to pump, but when I do, you gasp and begin to groan loudly. Leaning over the rail, you notice the guests. None have noticed yet. You lean back upright, so as not to be easily seen. When you lean back, your soft, pretty hair presses into my manly face, and I take a deep breath, enjoying and savoring the rapturously sweet aroma that is truly only you. How you take it all, I'll never know, but you do, and I am glad you do. "Agggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhh," you groan, as I pump furiously in and out of your wet tunnel. With each third thrust, I pull it clean out and each time I do, you reach back and feed it; sloppier than the last time; back into your snatch. It becomes a game. I tease you by pulling out, you feed me right back in and continue to fuck. When I play this game a fourth time, you dig your fingernails into my long shaft as you feed it back it, and giggle. I gasp and bite your neck, just below your choker, and you lean your cheek upon my face and flinch as I do. Your juices flow down my pole...warm, slippery, fuck fluid seeps from your quivering crevice. With my hands on your hips, I grip you tight and nearly lift you off the ground with each thrust. Faster and faster we pound together. Our bodies smacking together in loud unison in the otherwise quiet night. "Is this what you want?" I ask as I pound you harder and harder. With each thrust you feel your pussy quiver. You reach for your clit and rub it hard. "Michael, I'm going to cum," you cry out. "I'm going to cum," You hear me reply. "Please, together," you ask. Faster and faster we fuck. Naughty, intense, erotic...our mutual pleasure our only thought. Harder and harder we fuck. Nasty, insatiable, no stopping, not gentle, but rough and animalistic. I shift, to get lower...under you. I take your hips from another angle....