2 comments/ 5896 views/ 0 favorites M By: infructescence I decided to go by the name M. I have been thinking about it a lot. My given name had never seemed to quite fit me. Writing it on papers as a child, others calling me by it, never seemed to register, to resonate within me, thinking 'yes, that's me.' I browsed books for baby names, those silly publications new mothers and fathers with no creativity or ambition used to determine their unborn fetus' fate. Each name seemed wrong, foreign. I went to the old bookstores to find used versions of these, thinking perhaps a name from the past might speak to me, with no luck. M. materialized last night and has not left my head since. I am positive it is it. Laying in bed, her skin slick with sweat and the cigarette held in her lips, she stared at the ceiling. I don't remember her name, and as I sit here writing this she is most likely in another bed. I am luckier than most, able to fulfill my lust at will, without cost or repercussions. Simply walking into an area of ill-repute, they gather about me like flies. It could be the nonchalance hiding the intense passion in my heart, or perhaps a hope of relief from the heavy, hairy, selfish men usually seen there. They can tell that I'd know how to please them and not stop until they are writhing in agony, moaning so loud the adjoining room grows jealous of our revelries. Maybe it is the fact that I love them all, the young and the old, the bold and the shy, and I don't judge anyone, for who am I to judge when I am the one craving their services. All the women hold something desirable for me, in this imperfect world, what is here, the imperfections, are perfection. Last night will never happen again. I can't allow myself that kind of experience again without mortal injury. I will take the name acquisition as a token, a small memento to be with me for the rest of my life. She bestowed it upon me, daring me to take this chance, take some connection in a situation I would usually be quick to forget afterwards. I'll never forget her leading me back to the run-down apartment she shared with a few others with the broken windowpanes and paper-thin walls, but vibrant yellow wallpaper. Tiny blossoms adorned each wall, dancing along, encouraging us, staining into my eyes. I'm not sure how much time passed in that small room, it seemed to stand still. We only finished when we had exhausted our bodies, though we knew both our minds were still thinking of what we wanted to do next, to each other or to have done to us. She started in her best lingerie, teasing me with a lap dance, her panties rubbing against my lap until I felt deliciously warm and increasingly ached for her. She then danced on the bed, inviting me in with her eyes as she stripped, exposing her little brown nipples, her pink wet pussy. "M.." she moaned when I touched her. She either chose not to bring words into the moment, or I think now that maybe that was the only way she knew to communicate. She did appear foreign, an import by a lecherous or greedy man, who saw potential in that tight brown and pink body. Whatever he saw, he surely underestimated what she could be. Either way, I prefer communicating physically. At first she was timid, I started softly, kissing, her sweet tongue wanting to be with mine. I spread her legs and softly grinded in her until I wanted her so bad I couldn't help myself, so I turned her over, pressing her shoulders to the bed, and running my fingers down her back, so she would bless me with another precious moan. When she did then I entered her, harder than before. I fucked her little body so the whole bed shook. She was soft and sweet, but tougher than she looked, able to handle the force of me inside her. When she orgasmed for the first time, her whole body shook, the juices covered me and I kept going. It was so momentous, it felt like time was defeated and life at this moment had a purpose. I had to give her as much pleasure as possible. Of course she satisfied me as well, so well. It was close to the best I had ever had. I don't know why we ever stopped. As I'm sitting here now I am wet just remembering it. M. That's what they will call me. M. Beginning The club was one I had visited on many occasions. It was clean, simply and tastefully decorated, the staff were very friendly and the girls typically ranged from nice looking to purely gorgeous. I had learnt from my visits that the really beautiful girls almost always fell into two types: those that had enough experience and arrogance to treat you like a cash machine, and those which were new to the business, were nervous, shy and reluctant to try anything but the most ordinary massage, suck and fuck. As a result, I always chose the nice over the gorgeous. Older was better too: Enough experience to make it fun, but young enough to still make your dick weep at the sight of her naked body. My favorite was definitely M. M. was in her 30's but had a trim, firm figure. She out shone most 20 year olds. She had short blond hair, was almost always shaved and loved sex. She had a perfect combination of beauty and brains. She chose to work at the club after a stormy end to a relationship, needing the money and loving the sex. For her this was part hobby, part work. After the first time with her I was addicted, and I wanted to make sure she always had fun. The club had only a small reception, and the normal protocol was that you were shown directly into a free room by the receptionist. The girls available that day were then introduced one at a time. On this occasion the last to introduce herself was M. I was immediately struck with her: A captivating combination of self assurance and alluring beauty. Once all of the girls had left, the receptionist returned and asked me if had made a choice, and if I would life any refreshments. A few minutes later M. entered with a small beer for me. She sat beside me on the double bed and started with the normal pleasantries: Was it my first time, did I know the house rules and prices... When it became clear that I was a sort-of-regular, she asked me what I would like. Always eager to be polite and considerate, but completely captivated by M, I fumbled for the right way to express my overwhelming desire but not seem like a fuck-and-chuck asshole. After a few awkward starts, she was starting to wonder if I would ever make up my mind, and just went straight for the direct approach: "OK. So do you want to fuck me?" There was only one simple answer to this. "Absolutely" So we began. She slowly and seductively undressed, while I disrobed in a more functional manner, all the while watching her every movement. By the time I was undressed, my cock was rock hard and oozing clear tears of natural lubrication. M. got into the shower while I waited naked on the bed while my cock continued to dream of her warm haven. When M. stepped out of the shower and I handed her a towel as any gentleman should. I took her place in the shower and made sure I washed all the important bits in anticipation of what lay ahead. When I stepped out M. was lying on the bed, having laid out a large, clean towel for us both to lie on. I climbed onto the bed and she gently asked if we should start with a massage. I lay on my front and M. oiled my back and began to gently kneed into the tissue in a way that felt blissful. She took her time, and the massage alone was worth the money. She moved down to my legs and eased out the tired muscles. She then slowly moved upwards and between my legs, first gently caressing my balls, then grasping them and stroking them. This was delightful. I eased my ass off the bed as she reached towards my cock and slowly stroked its length. She could see and feel my exited, clear excretions, and used them to add to the oil lubricating my cock. M. changed her rhythm repeatedly to work me up into a frenzy, and then to slow to a gentle caress, to leave me time to calm down before the next wave of excitement. Like the body massage, I would have been happy for this to go on for ever. After a while M. said: "I think its time to roll over" Which I duly did. To my disappointment M. began to oil and massage my chest and legs, but just as before, migrated onto my groin and re-lit the fire in my cock, once again using my own juices to cover my cock. Occasionally she would slide her firm breasts the full length of my torso, mingling the natural lube with the oil on her chest. Once my erection was as hard as granite, M. stopped, cleaned off the oil and juices with a tissue, and slipped on a condom. She gently kissed my dick and began to lick its full length and massaged it all over again with her expert mouth. When I was almost ready to come, she stopped and said: "Now I think you are ready to fuck me" She eased me up as she lay down to take my place. I slipped my cock gently into her warm pussy and began to thrust. I was so exited that I only managed the one position, and burst in her warm pussy in a record time. Relaxed and mentally exhausted I lay down beside her as she began to clean me up. When volunteered to do that, she said: "No you are the customer, and this is all part of the service." Having spent my semen, we then lay together and began to get to know one another... Exposé I went back to the club a few times in the following month, but it was a several weeks before my visits coincided with M. On seeing her again, my heart skipped a beat. I had almost given up on the possibility of seeing her again. I was now doubly excited at the thought of having her body again, but nervous at what she may recall of my anxious start and quick finish on our first encounter. Fear of humiliation fought with lust, neurons vs. hormones. Eventually my cock provided the wining vote in pressing its urgent need to dive back into M.'s beautiful pussy. When M. came in, she immediately said in a warm and affectionate voice: "Hello again. Its really nice to see you back." I was caught off guard. Again. "I am impressed you remember me. You must have an astonishing memory, or my performance and behavior must have been appalling. Truthfully, I am a little nervous given my lack of stamina last time." "Nonsense. You were a little nervous, and I am here to make you feel relaxed and for you to have a good time. Besides what I remember is that you were a real gentleman and we had a lovely talk after the sex." "Normally I am not unnerved by the ladies, even a little adventurous, but with you, there is something that really gets my adrenalin going just by looking at you. When I talk with you it only gets more intense. I get nervous because you deserve to be treated like a lady, but my mind is full of wild sexual ideas. I am reluctant to suggest anything that you might think is a little strange" "I think you will find that I have quite wide limits on what I think is strange. Why don't we get undressed, shower and start with a gentle massage, and you can tell me all about your adventurous side." When we were ready she repeated her skillful massage, as we chatted. M. was a master at giving you the smallest details about herself, while displaying a real interest in me. It made me feel as if she was opening herself up, but in reality she gave nothing away. Slowly the conversation started to head into more arousing areas, starting with the foundations: How often have I visited clubs? What kind of body type do I look for? Do I like to have a variety of girls or do I prefer the familiar? Do I like pussies to be shaved or natural? Do I like to give and receive oral sex? What's my favorites position? M. then steered the conversation deeper. Have I ever had two girls at the same time? Did they pretend or were they really into each other? Did I fuck them both, or could I manage only one? Have I had sex twice in one hour? With different ladies? Have I ever had a finger in my ass? A dildo? A strap on? A dick? Would I like to try? What about bondage? Ever been tied & helpless? What about just tying my cock and balls? Ever on a leash? Was it me or was it her on the leash? Was I a pet or a slave? Was I a good dog, or did I need to be spanked? How did the dog like fucking his mistress? Did I ever agree to meet a girl outside the club? In public? Ever taken a girl to a swingers club? Would I like to? It was exhilarating and exhausting. All the while M. was gently massaging my back. She kept me hard the whole time without once touching my dick. Seeing none of her beauty, but listening to her erotic questioning was enchanting. Then suddenly: "Maybe we can try some of these things together, but right now I want you to fuck me." I was only too ready. This was clear from the wet patch on the towel where I had been lying. I knelt up and M. dabbed off the fluids and slipped my dick into something more protective. "How about doggie? It can remind you of your last doggie experience." "I just want to remind myself of your tight warm pussy, but doggie is good." Once again, the excitement of the preamble had substituted stamina for intensity. I lasted 5 minutes and exploded. M. felt the pulse though the condom, and let out a brief, almost inaudible sigh. Until then I had felt like a lion. The sigh crushed me. I had let her down. She never showed any other sign. She cleaned me up in her gentle, soothing way, and we lay a chatted about everything except sex until my time was up. Chains A month went by without a visit to the club. I wanted M., but I also wanted her approval. Caught in a physiological jail, I experimented with restraints. Something that would be a sign of submission, but in reality had little real effect. I came up with a simple solution: A length of chain and two mini padlocks. The chain went around my dick and balls. Locked. The chain then continued between my legs, up my back, and around my neck. Locked. The effect was purely visual. Eager to try out my new arrangement, I returned to the club. M. was there. For the third time I was in the horns of a dilemma. With emphasis on the middle syllable. I summoned my courage. It would have to be M., and I would offer, not ask, her to use the chain on me. When we got to the room, M gave me an affectionate peck on the cheek. "Its been some time. How have you been?" "OK. Missing this place, and missing you." "You are very sweet. Are we going to do the same as usual?" "Actually I have been experimenting. Nothing radical, just something to make it clear that the lady, not me, is in control. I was hoping to try it out once before seeing you, just to make sure it all works like it should, but when I saw you were on I just could not resist." "What is it? Do you have it here?" I emptied my pockets onto the bed. The chain and locks looked pathetic. My heart sank. "So how does it work?" I began to try and explain. It made no sense. It was all going badly before we even started. "I think it is easier to show you than to explain" I quickly got undressed as she stood and watched. This was an unintended, but intoxicating, twist to the power play. For a moment I stood there naked, with M., arms folded fully clothed. Her advantage. This was getting better already. I attached the chain and locks. I stood there while M. had a good look. My cock slowly began to swell. It ticked up 5mm every time she looked at it. "Nice. Are you my slave or my pet?" "I'm not sure. All I was looking for was for the lady to be in control" "Well it certainly does that" She began to nonchalantly disrobe. A bead of fluid eased itself out of my fully erect cock. "Would you like to try a leather collar, rather than the chain around your neck? It would be more comfortable, and you could attach a lead as well. That way I could lead you around the room... or even into reception... or the street outside." My heart stopped. "You wouldn't, would you?" "Of course not. The club has firm rules about keeping the play in the rooms. We have to maintain discretion." M. Stepped into the shower. "It's a pity to take that off, but after you have a shower I will put it back on, now that I know how it works." It seemed like seconds later, we were both rose fresh and naked. M. was delicately securing my cock and balls. Once the neck lock was on, M. gave the chain a firm hard tug. My cock stood to attention. "Seems secure. Why don't you walk around a little and let me see this in motion?" After a while M. stood up, slipped a finger in the neck loop, and led me around the room. She stopped, began to caress my balls with her free hand. "Yes. I definitely think a collar an lead would make a nice addition." She led me to the edge of the bed and gently pushed me into a sitting position, with my balls over the edge of the bed. She continued to play with them, and alternated with massaging my cock. No oil was needed. I provided all the lubrication necessary. After a while M. grabbed the neck loop, pulled me round, onto the bed on all fours. She gave the chain across my back a sharp tug, simultaneously tensing my cock, balls and neck. My dick released a slimy dribble in response. M. placed her hand over the head of my dick, gathered the juices and stroked its length. "Someone seems very excited." She used a tissue to mop my dick, then gently covered it with a condom. In a smooth movement she closed her lips around my cock and provided another of her oral massages. This time she sucked my in bursts, allowing time between to let the excitement dwindle. During a pause she said: "We want to go slowly to make sure you have enough energy to fuck me." When she was ready, M. tugged my neck chain and positioned my at the edge of the bed. Slowly she eased herself onto my cock. With long , slow strokes, she rode me for about 10 minutes until I could hold out no longer. The burst of semen swelled the condom. When M. saw it she commented: "You've been keeping a lot of cum in store for me it seems. Volume and duration. This is getting better every time we fuck." "I was just thinking the same thing. I would like to promise both, but we will just have to see." We cleaned up, and finished off with our normal chat. I was a happy man. M In the year between college and grad school, I'd taken up running, lost a lot of weight, got in terrific shape, and felt like an all-around badass at the game of life. So it's not surprising, these long, fatter, lazier years later I'd want that feeling again. As I drove the long hill up to the client's house, it brought to mind one of the hills I'd run back in Colorado. Strange as it may seem, hill days were my favorite. The greater effort brought a greater feeling of accomplishment. I glanced at the odometer about a 1/4 mile into the climb, then again when I pulled into M's driveway. About a mile. A good loop, I thought, with a steady incline. Hard to find around LA. I could park on PCH and jog up here...down up down up. New Year's was coming and I wanted to beat the rush of people turning over new leaves. M is a regular client. She usually has a list of small handyman stuff that I can tick off in a few hours. A divorcee with two kids, she got the house in the split. It is a sprawling number, with one wing for the master suite and the other for kids' bedrooms. They're grown now, her son off in college, her step-daughter a grad student at Pepperdine. So M mostly has the place to herself. It is always immaculate and smells like a spa. I take off my shoes in the foyer. After some friendly catching up, she explains what she needs. Sure enough, it's a short list of items I burn through in two hours. As I gather my tools, I mention my running plan and ask if it would be okay to use the hose on Sunday if my hydration skills are as rusty as my running skills. M is more than supportive. --Text me when you're coming and if I'm home I'll come out and cheer! I assent, thank her, and head off to my next job. Sunday comes and goes without the first run. On Tuesday, M texts me: "Did I miss you Sunday?" "Nah. Mr Lazybones didn't make it :(" "There's always next Sunday! Come on, you can do it! :)" "Thanks! I'll let you know. Could always use that cheering!" "I might be able to remember some from high school. But they'll be in Ukrainian if I do lol!" Oh right. M is Ukrainian. Well, she's from the Ukraine, but she's been in the US for like 30 years, so it's only the occasional long "a" sound turned to short "a" that hints at an accent. I don't know much else about her; she mostly keeps to herself. Very short, small build, medium sandy blond straight hair most always pulled taut. The wiry bundle of energy type. I'm not particularly strong nor am I bragging when I say I could likely lift her with one arm, she's that tiny. When Sunday arrives I will myself into some running shorts and lace up my sneaks. "Lazybones got his act together. :) Prolly reach yr place by 9 if yr around" The surfer traffic is light as I wend up PCH. When I reach the parking lot, I check my phone one last time: M hasn't responded to my text. Oh well. As I expected, the opening strides of the run are horrible. Only two hundred yards in and I'm thinking: head back, sofa, six pack. But then a little voice chimes in, perhaps that badass inside me, and I press on. Needless to say, by the time I reach the top of the hill, I'm in pain. Sweaty, salty, old man pain. And desperate for that hose! Rounding the corner, M's car comes into view, and I'm happy I'll see her. Stumbling closer on my shaky legs, I see a note on the front door. [Hey R____, come in!] Great, I think, some cold water, some air conditioning, and maybe even some Ukrainian cheers! The cool air hits me in the most pleasant way. I carefully push the door closed and lean my head against it, pausing to enjoy the temperature change. I breathe deeply. A zen fountain bubbles reasonably in the foyer. The air is sandalwood. Hot, sweaty, concerted effort has given way to calm, reassuring comfort. I turn and am about to call hello when I see another note. It sits next to a glass of water on a small table that's been placed in the center of the foyer. "R_____ Congratulations on your first trip up the hill! Please enjoy the water--" I sloppily chug it all down. So good. She continues: "I am offering you a Blue Pill/Red Pill choice :). If you "take" the Blue Pill, you will leave now, and you can use the hose any time you like. If you "take" the Red Pill, you will come up to my bedroom and do everything I tell you to do." Allow me to share the understatement of the year: I did not see this coming. Nor did I have to contemplate a response, because my cock was halfway to the stairs in anticipation. The only thing I did need to contemplate was how to hold myself back from sprinting to the bedroom. As I round the corner on the first landing, I see another note a few steps up. "Take off all your clothes." Absolutely zero hesitation...though I felt badly to be leaving sweaty running clothes on her immaculate hardwood. The double doors to her massive bedroom are open. --Hello? M rounds the corner. I'm disappointed to see I'm the only one naked. Even worse, she's wearing a long, slightly baggy dress. I'd almost call it frumpy. It's like I came to fuck and she came to teach in a one-room schoolhouse. She skips the greeting and small talk, barely takes me in with her eyes, and beckons me to follow her into the bathroom. It's one of those marble jobs, double-vanity, soaking tub, frameless glass shower...quiet classy except for the gold fixtures. I fucking hate gold fixtures. --Your running routine will be this: after each loop, you enter the house and strip naked. You come up here and take a shower. When you get out there will be a clean towel on this bench, along with an item of my choosing. It will be obvious what to do with the item. When you're done, go into the bedroom and kneel at the foot of the bed. Understood? --Yes. Without another word she exits. Even worse than gold fixtures are showers with 14 different spray heads and 5 control knobs. It's a fucking catastrophe of water everywhere until I can figure out which knobs to use and how to turn up the heat. Ridiculous. By the time I push open the steamed-over shower door, the towel is on the bench next to a pair of heels. Now, I've never worn heels in my life, but I'm game to try. (Note to self: remember to ask M why she has heels in my size). Clean, naked, dry...I click awkwardly into the room. M watches me come into view from a reclined position against some pillows on the bed. I can see myself in the large mirrored closet doors and I look silly. I mean, the fantasy is to be thin and hairless and girlish in heels. I'm the opposite. I chuckle at the reflection. As I kneel at the foot of the bed: --I look ridiculous. --You look obedient to me. That's all I care about. It was a good point and gave me something to focus on. --Now, she says, working her way down the Cal King, Each time you come in here and kneel, you're going to eat my pussy until I come. As soon as I do, you take off whatever I've given you, go downstairs, put on your running clothes, and do another loop. Got it? --Yes She slides her legs off the bed on either side of me, then lifts the hem of her dress over my head. So it's in total darkness I first experience her sex. Already wet, a gentle musk, a small tuft of hair above...in short, heavenly. I waste no time piercing her lips with my tongue. --Not so fast. She pulls my head from beneath her dress and holds it. --Today is all about the burn, remember? A small smirk forms at the corners of her mouth. --Get up to a squatting position and put your hands behind your back. Once I obediently achieve the position, she pulls my head into her crotch. --Now make me come. It isn't long before my quads are screaming in agony. The first trip up the hill was enough to wreck them, but the added torment of holding this position for her is a real test of will. Add to that not getting to see her body...cruel and unusual indeed. The more my thighs cry out, the more frantically my tongue attacks her slit. I'm licking, sucking, swirling, nibbling... I'm on her clit, sliding in and out, making circles around her lips...any- and everything I can think of to make her come and stop the pain. It takes a good 10 minutes, then finally a moan. Like the Grinch hearing the Whos singing on Christmas morning: it started in low, then it started to grow. So I go at her for all I'm worth until at last she bucks and twists and thrusts herself into oblivion. Wow. --Wow, she manages. I need to use my hands to steady myself as I stand, and the inrush of blood to my quads is searing. Lucky, I can step out of the heels, because walking in them would have sent me tumbling for sure. Minutes later, the heat is a blanket thrown over me. I have trouble finding a rhythm...the pounding brings the runner's adage to mind: Uphill works the heart; downhill works the legs. The surfing population has thinned considerably when I make the turn. The Pacific rolls peacefully beneath them as they bob in the tide. Sadly, there's no concomitant peace on the hill. After much struggle, I'm at her door again. Slipping off my clothes in the foyer, I'm delightfully chilled by the conditioned air. The water glass, replenished, stands tall and fresh newly paired with a lit candle. My body is pulsing and aware from all the exertion. It allows me to trace the path of the cool drink down my throat and around the inside of my stomach. A few full, relaxing breaths and I'm off to the shower. When I emerge from the shower, the heels are on the bench again, paired with a small butt plug and a bottle of lube. Frankly, my dear, I like where this headed. Plug in, heels on, my second journey into the bedroom is even more unstable than my first. I check myself in the mirror again and still look ridiculous. M is waiting, legs pulled up and back a bit, her frumpy dress in contrast to her tightly groomed pussy. --How does the plug feel? --I like it. --So you've had some experience? --Not my first rodeo. I smile and assume the squatting position between her legs. She smiles back, and with one hand draws my face into her sex -- our eyes locked together. "Giddyup." M is soaking wet from the start and comes in 2 minutes. Sweet relief for me, and with luck a sign of things to come. I pull the plug in the bathroom and clean it, which seems like the gentlemanly thing to do. And the plug's on my mind down the hill -- I'm curious what the next step in the progression will be! By the time I reach M's front door for the third time, I'm seriously considering telling her this is the last loop. I mean, my untrained legs are jelly now. Even stripping nude in the cool air doesn't hold the joy it had last time. I'm sloppy with the water again, and practically have to pull myself upstairs along the handrails. But shower time is pep talk time. Not only do I confront the runner inside me, who, if he's going to re-emerge from his long hibernation needs to step up his game, I also confront the sexual explorer: dude, this beautiful woman has given you a gift and you're letting your mind get in the way. Don't make that mistake again! Seize the opportunity. See it through to the end! I step out of the shower with a new attitude. Waiting for me: the heels, the plug & lube, and a g-string. Silvery-white. A negligible triangle of fabric that's no match for my erection, which shoves it aside. I've got to admit, panties do something to me. I mean, every time I've worked for an attractive female client I've thought about pulling out the top drawer of her dresser, maybe secreting off with a non-descript pair of her panties and rubbing them over my cock, coming on them, wearing them under my work clothes...and now I'm getting the chance to wear M's panties in front of her. Wow. I'm a bit more stable walking out, actually anxious to see myself strutting in the heels and panties. Well, I still look ridiculous, but I FEEL sexier, so there's that. :) M takes a bit more interest as well. --Looks like you're getting comfortable in those. --I'm enjoying the challenge. --And I'm enjoying putting you through it. With that, she lies back and kicks up her legs, this time pulling them up close to her head. The motion moves the dress out of the way and exposes her belly. The shot of extra skin hits me hard, and I eagerly assume the position and start feasting. But this time around I decide to throw a quick rimming in to see if she says anything, one way or the other. It's one of my favorite pastimes, so I'm curious if we're simpatico. My first trip over her asshole is brief, and I prime for it with an ever-widening circle that began at her lips. That way if she wasn't down I could claim it was simply a by-product of geometry. But there is no protest, and I find my way back for a slightly longer stay, which is also accepted. Then I just fucking go for it. I mean, it's all locking into crisp relief: a woman I'd known professionally for 15 years decided to share herself with me, and now I'm lucky enough to have every exposed inch of her a tongue's length away from my face...gotta try it all! I stab at her tight little hole with my tongue, pushing, probing then swirling and licking. At first, she doesn't make a sound. Does that mean no? But then I flick my tongue rapidly, but barely touching, and she responds, still soundless, by reaching both hands around her hips and pulling apart her cheeks. A resounding yes! The stay at her butthole is brief, however, as my quads complain they've had enough of the squat. So I dutifully return to her clit and get M off in under a minute. Pushing off the bed to stand, I reconsider the reconsidering I did in the shower. The pain is burning through my sexual resolve. --I don't think I can make another trip. I'm sorry. Please don't think I'm not loving every fucking second of this experience. I just...my legs are killing me. M slides to the end of the bed. --You don't think you can make it just once more? She brings her right hand up under my balls and caresses them gently. It's the first time she's touched me. --Just once more, for me? Her fingers move so delicately, they send mini charges up into my center. She slides off the bed onto her knees and looks up at me. Her left hand encircles my cock, and the pair begin a delightfully well-synchronized routine. I'm floating on the sensations M is creating between my legs. My neck loosens and tension leaks out of every part of me. As I drift, I catch sight of a koa wood box on her dresser. Likely for jewelry, as it has a lock, key sticking out. Inside, my languid brain imagines, are all the turn-ons this moment is hinged upon. Memories of my interactions with M through the years, that first surge of sexual energy brought on by the note on the table, being naked before her for the first time...and all my naughty luggage unclasped, unzipped: my panty fetish, my love of femdom, rimming, plugging myself, seeing myself in heels...all that swirling around in the box, mixing with the taste of her sex and the view of her spread legs bent up and back, the shape of her ass, still only half-seen, and the strange power of what I imagine her full ass looks like, everything rising to converge in a grand crescendo...yes yes yes the real and imagined in equal measure, equally capable of stirring...actions, feelings, memories, and hopes all pent up in a single box, with M holding the key. And now she's on her knees, turning it with her hands, her eyes, about to release the concoction our weird and wonderful bodies and brains have merged to create. She's moving faster now, though not increasing her pressure, nor taking her eyes off mine. --You want to spurt your hot load? --Yes. Faster. --You want to feel that surge of sperm into your balls, the tingling as I rub them... --Yes Faster. --Do you want to know what I would look like with your come on my face? --Yes god yes --Have you thought about it before? --... --Have you thought about coming on my face before?! --Yes! Faster. --All these years of knowing me just as a client. Just a regular person. And now you've seen and tasted my pussy... --Yes --You've even licked my asshole, my naughtiest little spot. --Yes, yes I'm at the doorstep of perhaps the largest orgasm of my life. The box of my desires is rattling, bouncing along the top of the dresser, the lid straining to burst the lock as M ever-so-slowly turns the key. She takes her hand from my cock and reaches around behind me. I feel the plug push in slightly and clip my prostate. That in turn sends a buzz to the underside of the tip of my cock. --I bet that feels nice. --Yes! In concert, her hands move the plug and caress my balls. I'm slightly relieved, because, while this combination doesn't feel as good as the previous one, I'm a step back from the frustrating edge M seemed intent on keeping me at. --You feel that on your prostate? She pushes the plug in and wiggles it slightly. --Yes --And the tip of your dick? Still looking up at me, she extends her tongue until it presses warmly against the underside of my tip, and the direct wiring between there and my prostate crackles with electricity. --Uhhhhhnnn... M smiles and continues bathing me with her tongue. Information passes back and forth between our eyes, intensifying our connection with each wave of pleasure. --Do me a favor? --Yes? --Tell me when you're going to come. And with that, ladies and gentleman, Presto!...she disappears my cock into her mouth. An orgy of physical and mental pleasure ensues. It's the final turn of the key. --I'm coming! And with that...M simultaneously spits out my dick, stops caressing my balls, and unceremoniously yanks the plug from my ass. It take me several seconds to collect myself as I spiral into letdown. M rises and smirks at me. I'm not amused. --If you want that orgasm, which I would really love to give you...one more loop. Goddamn it. With a mix of anger, disappointment, frustration, and a raging hard-on, I kick off the heels, pull off the panties (M grinning the whole time), and head down to my cold, sweaty running clothes. But you know what? With all the emotional distraction, the loop was over in no time. Sure, my legs were feeling it, but my mind had another place to focus. I open the front door feeling triumphant for pushing through, and very much deserving of an orgasm of a lifetime. When I step out of the shower, there is only a towel on the bench. But when I step into the bedroom... M is standing proudly, naked except for a pink strap-on and a big smile. She points to the floor in front of her, beckoning me to kneel. I take my time crossing the room, eager to take in the sight of her body, now fully revealed. It is a wonder of compact efficiency, muscular and tight, pale and smooth. She's even freed her hair from the strict ponytail, and just that small gesture has transformed her. Looking up from my kneeling position, the view of her face is obscured by the pink dildo, which she is defiantly waving over me. M pushes it downward in what I imagine is a universal gesture for "Hey, slut, stick it in your mouth". I oblige. The experience, which I've had once before, is not unpleasant under the circumstances. And I can tell from the gleam in her eye she's enjoying the sight of the pink shaft obeying the sway of her hips and disappearing past my lips. Soon she wants more, though. She orders me to get the small bench at her makeup table and set it in front of the mirror. Lying on it face down, my hands and feet can still touch the floor, and, with my head turned to the side, I can see us both in reflection. The bench is short though, and allows my cock and balls to hang free beyond the end. M She draws a few pumps of lube from a bottle and smears it all over my ass, then down across my cock and balls, coating me thoroughly. Then a few more pumps and she carefully works a finger inside me. To aid in opening me up, she rubs my cock and balls, alternating, caressing, keeping in concert with her probing finger. It's not long before she's able to insert a second finger and work them to the hilt. --I'm going to fuck you in the ass now, R----. Man, what a day. The strap-on slides in easily, and within a few strokes she's found a rhythm. I am mesmerized watching her. Her lithe body leaning into each stroke, she uses her hands on my ass cheeks both to steady herself and spread me wide. The strokes evolve into a pounding as she works herself into a small frenzy. Sweat forms on her brow and begins to darken her hair, and before long I feel cool little driplets on my back as she punishes my asshole with her whole body. She finally slows to catch her breath, allowing me to do the same. The cubic foot of space enclosing all of my sexual organs and surrounding tissue is pulsing. I'm also sweating, and that's requiring more work from my hands and feet to stay afloat on the bench. This little denouement plays out to its natural end and we both take a moment to collect ourselves. I stand and stretch. --That's really a good workout. My legs are burning. --Yeah? You should try running up that hill 4 times. She concedes the point with a laugh, which in turn lowers the volume on the sexual intensity. We both suddenly become aware of our nakedness and vulnerability. But instead of the moment being diminished in any way, it is strengthened when M steps to me and pulls me into a long, deep, tender kiss. Our hot, moist tongues greet each other gently. Time drops away for a few moments, I feel slightly dizzy, and then...she disengages her mouth from mine. --I'm not done fucking your tight little asshole. Lie on the floor. The sudden turn in tone and the dirty language...before I hit the floor I'm hard as a rock. --Bring your legs up. She takes my ankles and lifts my legs, then pushes them over so my feet hit the floor behind my head. Then, of course, she spreads my legs to gain access to my asshole. I'm plenty lubed up still so she slides in and gets right back to her frenetic thrusting. She's chosen this position for two reasons. The first is so she can fuck me and stroke my cock simultaneously. The combination is ridiculous. And each time the dildo presses into my prostate and she's rubbing the underside of the tip of my dick, I moan loudly. She tells me she loves the sounds, and won't stop making me make it. Before long I feel the re-stirring of the mighty orgasm she'd cut off earlier. I tell her as much. --Oh yeah? All that cum building up here in your balls? She moves her stroking hand up and caresses my swollen sack. And between the strap on and the ball rub, I could likely squirt. The second reason I'm in this position is now clear. M pushes the strap-on in as far as it will go and stops. She tucks her knees forward a bit to hold me steady, crouches, then uses both hands to work my shaft and balls...looking down my cock as a rifle taking aim. --That's right. You're gonna take this huge load on your face. Her lubed hand works me from base to tip. --And then I'm going to watch you eat it. Swirling fingertips on my balls. --You're SO swollen! Although she's not thrusting, the small movements of her arms combine with my efforts to steady myself to allow the dildo to massage me inside. All three of these sensory inputs, combined with the vision of my client, naked, strapped, furiously working to see my cum, dominating me with a clever running routine, the delicious taste of her sex...all of it converges here and now, lighting the fuse on what feels to be the biggest orgasm of my life. --I--I'm going to cum. --Shoot it, baby. Spurt that load onto your own face. --Yes, yes, please... --I won't stop until you're empty. Show me every drop. --Whatever you want... --Spurt it. Spurt it. Come on, cum for me! --Hnnn...hnnnn... The only way I can describe what happens next...if you've ever seen a movie in which someone shoots a bullet through the fuselage of an airplane and everything gets sucked towards the hole...all of the crackling energies in my body are racing through my balls eager for release. Once I'm past the point of no return, the surge reaches my balls, and they tingle wildly, a sensation intensified by M's expert caressing. Then the build-up to the first spurt grows in my sack, and I'm careful to fight the tickling urge to squeeze it out and instead let the the muscles contract involuntarily. This maximizes the amount of the first squirt, and it is enormous... My eyes close and I drift on the wave of pleasure peaking between my legs and radiating outward. After a dribble of pre-cum descends onto my throat, the first rope of cum slashes the air, barely hitting my hair and making an audible slap on the floor behind me. The second and third spurts bullseye my face and open mouth. --Yes, swallow your cum as it shoots into your mouth! I am eager to obey and swallow. My mouth opens in time for the next shot, and I swallow more. After that the pulses diminish, though plenty of sperm empties out of me. The room hums around our panting, sweaty bodies. M holds me firmly with her knees. She works the last of the load out of my deflating cock and gives it a few more tender strokes before using her hands gently to let my legs down. It takes a few moments for me to realize where I am. --That was amazing. Thank you. --You're welcome. But we're not finished. M steps around and places each foot between my arms and my body, her heels against each armpit. --First, let's get all of this-- She bends over and uses a finger to smear all the cum on my face into my mouth. Once she's satisfied, she squats. --Eat my asshole. I am more than happy to oblige. And as I do, she finds the cum on my chest and feeds me fingerfulls in between licks of her hole, sometimes swirling the cum on her rim, sometimes even pushing it inside her a bit and make me work to get it out. It is such an immense turn-on that, despite having the emptiest balls in the history of human existence, I feel a stirring in my cock. The post-coital glow is in full effect. The house is silent, except for the distant bubble of the waterfall. Her asshole is smooth and tasty against my swirling tongue. Little moans ride my hot breath against her skin. M coos in soft reply as we hold onto this still place. Until a car door shuts. I hesitate. --Don't stop. It's just my step-daughter. The front door closes. --Rosalie?! --Yeah! --Come on up! I've got something to show you! Or someone, really! I push M off me sit up. --Hang on a sec-- --No, you hang on a second. I'm in charge here. You just do what you're told. And if I want to humiliate you in front of my step-daughter, then you'll take it. Understood? A hot flush of embarrassment rippled out from my gut. I couldn't deny her power over me, my desire to obey. --Understood. Just then her Rosalie sticks her head around the corner. But instead of being shocked or surprised, she gives a knowing smirk. --Jesus, Mom, first the plumber, then the electrician, now the handyman? --I know, I just can't help myself. M smiles saying this. --Do you want me to clean him off, too? --Would you mind? I'd like to take a shower. --No problem. Come on, handyman. I start to get to my feet. The women, in unison: --Crawl. I follow her down the stairs, through the kitchen and living room, and up into the other wing of the house. We enter her bathroom. --Into the tub. They may not be related by blood, but she's picked up her step-mother's stern tone. I climb in. The thought of a warm shower after all I've been through...heavenly. But Rosalie doesn't turn on the water. Instead she steps up on the edge of the tub. --Don't move an inch. --Yes, Miss. --And don't fucking talk to me. I catch myself before saying Yes, Miss again. She lifts the front of her skirt and holds it in her teeth. Then she pulls out the front panel of her panties and pushes them aside, reveals the bald glory of her sex. --Close your eyes. I close my eyes and wait.