8 comments/ 47480 views/ 17 favorites The Cat By: nightstalker1960 The last three months had been hell. My wife had decided that she wanted a divorce, my boss informed me that I was being laid off and, this morning when I walked outside, I discovered that my car had been stolen. I looked up at the clear blue sky, wondering when the bolt of lightning was going to come down. As I walked back toward the house I saw a mangy old cat walking across the drive. I was tempted to give it a swift kick, just to take out my frustrations. As I walked toward it, I noticed blood oozing from a gash on what used to be it's ear. It was also limping, keeping one paw held up off the ground. Now I'm no good Samaritan, and I am definitely not a cat lover, but I looked down at that pitiful creature and I couldn't help but feel sympathy for it. It stopped and looked up at me like it was waiting to be kicked. I reached down and picked it up. I could feel it's ribs through its matted fur. It had no collar, or tags and looked like it had been living on the streets for a while. I took it in the house and did what I could to clean its wounds. I then used my soon to be ex-wife's favorite robe to make a bed for the creature and set it down near the sofa. I got a bowl and poured some milk in it and set it next to the animal. Then I called the police to report my car stolen. The officer arrived less than ten minutes later, which is unbelievable. In fact, I think that might be a record response time in my neighborhood. I was standing on the porch when the patrol car pulled in. What climbed out of the car was enough to take your breath away. The officer looked like something you would see in some movie, with shoulder length black hair and the features of a starlet. Her uniform was stretched to it's limits with curves that had no business being in a uniform. She walked up to me and introduced herself as Officer Marsh and proceeded to ask me questions about my car. I tried to pay attention to her questions, but my eyes kept wandering to her chest, which had her blouse nearly ready to burst open. After she finally got the information on the car, she turned to leave, telling me she would let me know if the car was found. I stood there watching as she walked away, her ass swaying to the beat of my heart. "There has got to be a law against that," I thought as she climbed into her car and drove away. With no car and nothing pressing to do anyway, I went back into the house. I noticed the cat still laying on the bathrobe, but the bowl of milk was empty. Sitting down on the couch, I turned the TV on and started watching the morning news. About an hour had passed when there was a knock on the door. It was Barb, Donna's friend from next door. We had never really socialized, other than to say hi in the driveways. She was carrying a handful of clothes. I opened the door and invited her in. I wondered if she knew about the break-up. "I'm sorry about you and Donna." she said as she walked in. "I brought over a couple of outfits she had loaned me. Hope you don't mind." I assured her it was fine. I took the outfits from her and tossed them on the couch. She looked at me like she was about to cry. She started to say how sorry she was about Donna and I, but I stopped her, assuring her that I was fine. She glanced around the room and saw the cat. "Oh, you poor thing." she cooed walking over to pet it. The cat sat there looking pathetic, while she rubbed its back. She stayed knelt there for several minutes, stroking its fur. Then with a sigh she stood up. "Well," she said, starting toward the door, "I'm headed out to do some shopping." She stopped right in front of me and looked up at me. Her small frame and slender figure made her look almost child-like. "I really am sorry about Donna." she said, her hand reaching up and stroking my cheek. I saw her shiver as she pulled her hand away. I was taken back. She had never shown any interest in me before, nor had I ever given her any indications that I was interested. Her hand slowly lowered from my face and traced its way across my chest. Again that shiver. I could hear the blood coursing through my veins at the thought of what was happening. Her hand slowly made its way to my belt, while her eyes seemed to staring right through me. I stood there motionless as her hands reached out and undid my trousers. She knelt down in front of me, pulling my pants down as she did. She let out a little gasp as my cock sprung out from the confines of my shorts. I stood there, tense yet motionless as she grasped the base of my cock in her hands. My hips thrust forward involuntarily at the first touch of her lips to my dick. She ran her tongue up the underside of my cock, causing it to twitch, as my hips rocked forward yet again. Without a word, she wrapped her lips around the head and slowly drew my length into her hungry mouth. It was like a dream as she began to move her mouth hungrily up and down my shaft, taking nearly the entire length with each down stroke, then withdrawing so that only the head was still encased in her moistness. One hand began caressing my balls as she began to increase her pace. I felt the pressure building in my groin as she continued. I grabbed the back of her head and pulled her down, thrusting into her mouth. I heard her start to gag and slowed my motions, releasing her head. She looked up at me with watery eyes as my cock began to swell in her mouth. I could feel my cum boiling in my balls as she resumed her sucking. Her mouth was stretched fully around my cock as it expanded for the last time. I arched my back and thrust forward, letting her know what was about to happen. She slid her mouth to the tip of my cock and began sucking feverishly. Her hands working my shaft as her mouth sought to draw my seed forth. I jerked and twisted as my cum shot upwards from my balls, jetting through my cock into her anxiously awaiting mouth. The suction was incredible as she drew spurt after spurt of cum from me. I reached for the wall as the last spasm passed through me. Still she continued, sucking the last remnants of sperm from me. At last, my cock slowly shrinking, she released her hold. With a faraway look in her eyes she stood up and gave me a hug. "Take care of yourself, Paul." she said. And with that she walked passed me and out the door. I stood there for several minutes, my pants around my feet, trying to make sense of what had just happened. I glanced over at the cat, who was laying in its bed. I swear, if cats could smile, it was smiling. It was about four in the afternoon. I was sitting at the computer working on a proposal for work when the doorbell rang. It was the police officer from that morning. "We found your car, Mr. Williams. It's at the precinct impound lot. You can pick it up tomorrow. There are just a few forms you'll need to fill out. I brought them with me. If you'd like I can help you with them." I nodded and invited her inside. As we walked through the living room she saw the cat, still laying in its bed. "Poor thing." she said, "Looks like you've been in a fight." She knelt down and stroked the animal's back. It arched its back against her hand and purred. Then it turned its head and licked her hand. She stood up and we continued to the kitchen. Sitting at the kitchen table I found myself staring at her enormous tits. They were straining against her uniform top, just begging to be free. She slid a piece of paper over to me and pointed to where I had to sign. After signing it, I looked up. The top two buttons of her blouse were undone. She slid another form in front of me and told me to fill it out as well. By the time I looked back up her blouse was unbuttoned down past her bra, a lacy little contraption that seemed to be straining to keep her tits in check. "Well, that's about it." she said, "I'll drop these at the lot in the morning. You can get your car anytime after eight o'clock. She stood up and collected the papers. She started to walk past me then stopped. I looked up, and saw that same far away look that Barb had earlier. She reached out and grabbed my head, pulling it into her breasts. I buried my face between those luscious mounds as my hands worked feverishly to release her bra. Her breath quickened as I slide her blouse down off her shoulders, taking the bra straps with it. Her blouse and bra fell away, revealing two wonderful globes of flesh topped by large brown nipples. She pulled my head back against her as she ground her tits into me. She put a leg on either side of me, and ground down onto my lap. My mouth sought out and latched onto her nipples one at a time. Then grasping both tits I pushed them together and sucked on both nipples at the same time. Her breathing became ragged as she continued to grind her pelvis against me. Her hand reached down between us and freed my swollen cock. Slowly she slid to a kneeling position in front of me, her hands gently stroking my cock. Precum was oozing from my cock head as she lowered her mouth to engulf it. I couldn't believe this was happening. She moved her head up and down a few times then withdrew. She looked up at me, like I wasn't even there. Then she wrapped her tits around my cock and began sliding them up and down. She lowered her head back down and wrapped her lips around the tip of my cock, sucking for all she was worth. I grabbed the sides of the chair and began thrusting upwards. The sensation was incredible. I knew I wouldn't last long, but I didn't care. I began fucking frantically as she continued to squeeze her tits around my cock. It was the most delicious sensation I had ever felt. I tore my eyes from the ceiling and looked down at her, feeling my cock beginning to boil. Standing in the doorway was the cat, with that same look on its face. Spasms rocked through me as the woman pulled me in tight, forcing my cock through her tits and into her hungry mouth. She shuddered as my jism splashed against the back of her throat. Again and again I shot into her mouth as she continued sucking. As my orgasm subsided the cat turned and walked into the living room. The officer simple stood and walked out the door, never stopping to retrieve her clothing. I sat in the chair for some time, wondering what the hell was going on. Later that evening I called Donna's mother's house, trying to get hold of Donna, hoping she could give me a ride to the police station. Donna's mother, Karen answered the phone. She told me Donna was out and wouldn't be back for a couple of days. I could hear the tenseness in her voice. I told her that Donna and I were over, and what Donna did was her business. Then I explained my predicament. She offered to give me a ride and said she would come by around seven-thirty. I thanked her and hung up the phone. The next mourning I awoke to the sound of the door closing. I looked over at the clock. It said seven thirty. I realized that I hadn't turned the damn thing on. Jumping out of bed, I rushed to the bedroom door before I realized I wasn't dressed. Shouting from the door, I told Karen I would be right out. She said not to worry. Then I heard her ask about the cat. I grabbed a pair of jeans and a shirt from the closet. I had my jeans pulled up around my knees when the door opened. Karen was standing there, holding the cat. I tried to pull the jeans up quickly which resulted in me tumbling forward to the floor. The cat leapt from Karen's hands and landed on the bed. I looked up in time to see Karen removing her blouse, followed immediately by her pants. She stood there, that same faraway look in her eyes. I knew something was up, but it just didn't make sense. "Karen, are you alright?" I asked. She looked through me and smiled. At the same time she let her bra drop to the floor. Now I am a mere man, and the sight of a nearly naked woman had its expected effect. My cock rose to immediate attention. I was actually surprised by the firmness of Karen's breast. They weren't large, just smaller than grapefruit, but the nipples pointed nearly straight out. Her stomach had a slight bulge to it, but in an attractive way, and her hips flared to a nice roundness that was almost intoxicating. She was wearing a pair of sheer cotton briefs panties that did nothing to hide the dark hairy bush beneath. Not that it would have mattered as she slowly peeled them down her legs. I sat there hypnotized by the sight before me. As her panties dropped to the floor, Karen stepped out of them and walked toward me. I was still sprawled out on the floor with my jeans around my knees. She straddled me and knelt down, at the last second reaching out to grasp my cock. There was no foreplay, she simply held my cock against her cunt and shoved downward. Her cunt lips stretched as my cock intruded into her. I saw her shudder and felt moisture begin to flow as she forced more and more of my cock into her fiery hole. With one final thrust she engulfed my entire length. A soft moan escaped her lips as she began to gyrate her hips, sliding against my blood engorged cock. She leaned forward, her tits dangling in my face as she drove her hips against my flesh. Little moans escaped her lips as she continued to ride me. Long slow strokes, she used, nearly withdrawing my cock completely before sliding all the way back in. Her cunt was like a wet velvet glove, gripping my cock as it slid in and out of her. Beads of perspiration formed on her brow as she gradually increased the pace. Her lips quivered, her arms began shaking. Still she rode me. Harder she drove against me, as her body began to sense the approaching storm. I grabbed her hips and drove up to meet her thrusts, feeling my own orgasm fast approaching. She pushed down hard, pressing her swollen clit against my pubic bone as her orgasm took her by storm. Her pussy began to spasm and she started screaming. I felt my own impending release and shoved hard against her. As my cock erupted spewing my jism deep into her hungry pussy, Karen began to shudder. Her cries became incoherent as she rode the wave of pleasure. Slowly her cries subsided as she collapsed against me. She lay there, her breath raged. After a few minutes she sat up, my cock still imbedded in her. "What just happened?" she said, pushing her cunt against me as the last waves passed through her. Slowly she climbed off of me and grabbed her clothes. "I don't know what just happened." she said, her face red with embarrassment. "I'm so sorry Paul." She ran to the bathroom. I heard the thump as the cat jumped from the bed and walked out of the room, stopping at the door to look back at me. I struggled my pants into place, and got up. I knew what had happened. I just didn't know how. It was several minutes before Karen stepped from the bathroom. I started to say something but she shushed me. "I don't want to talk about it." she said. I got the cat a large bowl of milk and a can of tuna. I figured it deserved it. The ride to the police station was quite. As I climbed out and tried to thank her, Karen just waved me off and drove away. I went to the impound lot and signed for my car. The duty officer took me to it. "The ignition is broke." he said, "But other than that I didn't see any damage. I'll show you how to start it for now. Any garage can put in a new ignition." We got to the car and he opened the door. I climbed in and he showed me how to start it with a screwdriver. I drove straight to my mechanics and explained what had happened. He explained that it was no problem, he would have the car fixed in a couple of hours. He offered me a loaner and said he would bring my car by after work. I thanked him and headed home. I wasn't sure what was going on, and I had no idea how I was going to find out, but I was going to try. When I pulled in the driveway I noticed a woman standing at the edge of my yard. She was looking about, and calling out a name. "Callie, here Callie," she called. I climbed out of the car and walked over to her. "Can I help you?" I asked as I got near her. She was a rather plain looking woman, the kind you would walk by and never notice. She looked up, surprised. "Uhm, you haven't seen a rather mangy looking cat around here have you?" I nodded, and explained that I had found her cat and taken it in. It looked like a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders. I invited her in, telling her I would get Callie for her. She followed me into the house, thanking me profusely as we went. "Thank you so much. I don't know what I would have done without her." she continued. "I hope she wasn't any trouble. She can be so mischievous." She smiled as she said that. I looked at her and without thinking I smiled back. "No, she was no trouble at all." I replied. As we entered the house, Callie raced across the floor to the woman and began rubbing against her leg. The woman stiffened for a moment then looked down at the cat. "Now you stop that, Callie." She looked at me, her face flushed. "I'm Sarah." she said, holding out her hand. "Paul," I replied, taking her hand in mine. I felt a tingle in my leg. I looked down and Callie was rubbing against me. I felt all the blood rush to my cock. "She can be such a bad cat sometimes." Sarah said as I reached out for her. The Cat The Cat Somewhat early on a Saturday morning I was having a cup of coffee on my patio when I noticed a large cat looking at me. It was between two of my flowerpots towards the back but my pots are placed in such a way I could see each plant well from my chair. I could see the cat well. The cat could tell I could see it. It was a semi-longhaired charcoal grey cat that was a bit overweight. By the time I took my first sip of coffee it had relaxed. By the time I had finished half my cup it was sound asleep. It was definitely somebody's cat; stray and feral cats would be on alert or gone. When I finished my coffee and stood it opened its eyes and watched me go inside the house. About an hour later I saw it go through my picket fence and away from my patio. I had no idea how long it had been taking naps on my patio or if it was a first time for it but I kind of hoped it would come back. I live alone and sometimes any company at all is better than none. I did my usual things on Saturday but did not see the cat the rest of the day. Sunday morning it was back. It raised its head when I sat in my patio chair then went back to sleep. I felt insulted. All I merited was barely a glance? I told it of my displeasure but all it did was tweak its ears. "You are lucky I'm used to being ignored," I said to it. That didn't even merit an ear flick. I resumed drinking my coffee and watched the hummingbirds and butterflies visit my flowers. Soon enough it was Monday. I was a schoolteacher and my first class isn't until nine so I have time for coffee in my patio each day although earlier than on weekends. I was usually dressed and on the patio around seven and on my way to work by seven thirty. We did not have to be at work that early but I had a fifteen-minute drive and needed time to get ready. The cat came sauntering in just as I was finishing my coffee. I said good morning and asked it to watch the house for me then left. That went on for the whole week until the following Saturday when I went out at my usual eight AM. The cat greeted me with a meow them went back to sleep. "Yeah, what you said," I answered its greeting and drank my coffee. That next Sunday morning's schedule included feeding the plants. I do that one at a time and have to walk past all the pots to do so. I talked to the cat as I did but by the time I got to the cats usual spot it was gone. I finished my task without giving it a thought; well I did fell a bit silly talking to a cat that had already gone home. After putting everything away I got another cup of coffee and went back to my chair on the patio. The cat was in it. "Hey, that's my chair. Use the other one, " I ordered. "Meow," she said. Her indelicate position told me it was a female. I also saw that beneath the thick fur there was a collar with a tag. She had an owner. I pulled the back of my chair up a bit and she spilled out of it and after another meow wandered back towards her usual spot. Water was seeping from beneath the pots so she turned back and jumped into my second chair. She was asleep in seconds. I drank my coffee then went inside the house to write a story about cats. I did not notice when she left. On Monday when she came over she jumped directly into the second chair and began some grooming. "Must be nice to be able to reach down there," I said. She paused long enough to look at me and said, "Yes it is." At least that's what I thought that meow meant. She was asleep in the chair when I left. The week continued like that until I made a mistake. That Friday I bought her a cat toy. It was a silly windup mouse I got at the dollar store that scooted along the patio floor. I presented it to her the next Saturday morning and she loved it, pounced on it and waited for me to rewind it then pounced on it again. That was when I realized I had made a mistake. I got tired of being her servant and wound it up one last time then went into the house. The following Sunday I looked around the patio but never found the thing. The cat stayed in the chair; apparently she knew I would not find it. The following Friday I got her another toy, this one was a stuffed mouse with catnip inside. She ignored it. The mouse stayed on my patio until a heavy rain then it must have been washed away. I never found that one either. I noticed that most of my conversations outside of school were with her. I noticed I was a bit more relaxed in my relaxedness. Cats have that reputation. Two weeks later I bought her another toy, a feather on a string on a stick. Yes I knew I had to actively play with her but I got it anyway. I spent a longer time with her on weekends and after the first feather thing unraveled I got another one. Then she stopped coming over. I said fine and just sat in my patio chair. Two days later I walked around the neighborhood hoping not to see a squashed cat on the street. I got that wish but not the other. A month passed then one Saturday morning there she was on her chair. I said, "Where have you been? You didn't write, you didn't call." "Home, I've been home." At first I was astonished to hear her speak then it occurred to me to look behind me. A nice looking lady was standing there smiling at me, Nobody smiles at me unless they want a tip or a higher grade on their report card. I just stared at her until the cat said, "Meow." "Oh, thank you for reminding me of my manners," I said to the cat. Then to the woman I said, "Please come in and join us. Would you like some coffee?" "If you already have it brewed yes please, one cream one sugar." On my way back to her with her coffee I noticed my hand was shaking and wondered why. The cat was on her lap when I rejoined them. We sat in silence for a few moments as we enjoyed the brew then she said, "You have twenty two pots out here, and I have four. My patio looks like a cement patio with four plants. Yours looks like a tropical forest should." "Thank you, that was the plan. The two back rows are hibiscus, then gardenias, firecrackers, and vincas in front. That side of the fence has esperanzas and plumbagos. The other side has roses. The hanging baskets have bougainvilleas." "It must hurt the eyes when they are all blooming at once." "Don't know. That has never happened, not even just the hibiscus. I keep hoping though." I saw it happen but it did not register until it had already happened, the cat got off her lap, walked across the patio table, then settled on my lap. "Wow, she has never done that. She hides when anyone is around especially men. Have you been feeding her?" "No. I didn't know what her diet was." "But it was you that got her the wind-up and the catnip mice." "Yes I.....how do you know about that?" "She brought them home." "Oh." "Her name is Grace by the way and she is not supposed to get out of my house. It took me three weeks to find how she did that and now she can't. This morning I decided to see where she was howling about she needed to go so I followed her. I just knew she had a boyfriend." "She does but she is safe here." "But I don't want her to... Oh, you mean you. Sorry. My name is Felice by the way." "Hi, I'm Mike. I take it you two live close by." "Yes, two carports that way. Do you know the ladies that live between us?" "No. I say hello to my next door neighbor and move her trash can into her carport when it is on the street but the one past her I wouldn't recognize if I saw her." "You are not a friendly person?" "No, I'm not but I am not unfriendly. My colleagues call me reserved." "What do you do?" "I'm an intermediate school science teacher." "Really? Me too. You must be at the new one. I am at the old one." "On Monday do me a favor and tell Jim he is still uglier than me." "I'm not getting into that kind of argument. I like Jim even with that ugly beard anyway." "Ow. Grace bit me." "You stopped petting her. She might be a bit spoiled." "Yes, she might. More coffee?" "Yes, please. This is good stuff. What is it?" "Café DuMond." "Did you get it in New Orleans?" "No, at the Hong Kong market." "Now that is weird." Soon the three of us were in my living room and both Grace and Felice went straight to my marine aquarium. "Please sit in the rocking chair while I brew another pot of coffee." When I got back Grace was pawing at my large Queen angel that was gliding past her just to irritate her. "That is a gorgeous queen angel. How long have you had it?" "Five years. In fact the last fish I put in there was three years ago and that was the green scat. He was about the size of a nickel then." "He is as big as a saucer plate now. I thought they were freshwater fish." "Brackish water as juveniles and marine as adults but it has been fine in there since he was little and he still has a lot of growing to do." Somewhere along the day we had lunch at my house then walked to her house and had some wine as we sat on her patio. "Do you have a girlfriend that is going to kill me when she finds out we spent the day together?" "No, You are safe in that regard. Am I going to get punched out?" "No, you are very safe in that regard." In the ensuing silence our hands accidentally touched. Neither of us withdrew them. After an hour or so of revealing minor embarrassments about ourselves I said, "This has been the longest conversation I have ever had with anybody. You now know more about me than anybody else knows. I better go home before I start on the sordid stuff." "Ooh, can't wait until you get to it. I have enjoyed your company all day too and I see why Grace loves you. You now know more about me than anyone else does but I will wait to reveal the sordid stuff until you do." "In that case it will be at my earliest opportunity. Good night," I said. She seemed to expect a kiss so I kissed her cheek. She blushed and said good night as I walked out her gate. That night I masturbated for the first time in weeks then jacked off a second time for the first time in a couple of years. That one was because it dawned on me that she blushed because she felt my erection when I kissed her. She had not backed away from it. She was short, salt and pepper hair, wore no make-up but was very cute. She wore glasses that made her look older than she was which I had decided was her mid forties just like me. I was by no means a hunk but I was better than I had been five years before. Having a garden and a low carb diet had taken away my beer gut and lard ass. I had resumed pacing the classroom all through each class. I still had all of my now somewhat graying red hair. My glasses were stylish my daughter had said when she picked them out for me at the optometrist. She then told me she knew her mother had cheated on me often and loved me a lot for staying home until she went away to college. She had not invited her mother to her wedding. "She would like Felice," I thought. That Sunday morning Grace was back and sat on my lap as I drank my coffee. Felice joined us about thirty minutes later. She kissed my cheek before she took my now empty mug and went into the house. She returned with two cups. Somehow that felt normal. We sat and drank our coffee and talked about our jobs and how bored we were before school had resumed and commented on how that contrasted with the previous May when we wanted school to end more than the kids did. We talked about the neighbors and mutual friends at our schools. I learned that she loved baseball. I told her about my daughter. "You look nice," I said perhaps two hours later. I had meant to say it as soon as she had come over but had delayed it for some unknown reason. "Thank you." she said, "Take me to lunch at one of the bay restaurants. I never go out to eat alone so I seldom go out to eat and I feel like staring at the sea." "I will get dressed," I said. She was wearing a white sundress and sandals. Her hair looked nice and she may have been wearing make-up. I put on slacks and a polo shirt and wore the sneakers that looked like shoes. When I came out of the bedroom she was in the kitchen rinsing out the coffee mugs. "I took Grace home," she said. I nodded and asked, "Ready?" She nodded, kissed my cheek and went out the door. I opened my car door for her and we drove to the restaurants. "Either in particular?" I asked. "The one away from the bridge will be quieter." It was early enough we could choose our table. We ordered sweet tea and looked at our menus. "What is good here?" she asked. "I don't know, this is my first time in this restaurant. I am going to order the grilled mahi-mahi and shrimp, it fits my diet." "I am going to cheat on mine, I want the same thing except fried." "You are a risk taker." "Only at the oddest times," she said. We ordered then I asked her, "How did you know I would take you to lunch?" "I think you like me as much as I like you and I already know you do your best not to disappoint anyone, but I have to tell it took every bit of courage for me to ask. Thanks." She then gave me a soft kiss on the lips. I guess I showed surprise because she said, "What? I'm on a winning streak." I laughed and held her hand in mine. The girl bringing our tea was a former student of hers and was flabbergasted to see her teacher on a date. Felice said, "She is surprised because the rumors at the school say I am a lesbian." "Well that rumor is in jeopardy now." "I don't know about that. I love eating pussy." "We have that in common," I said after not too long a pause. She smiled and kissed my lips again. "Yes, but are you any good at it?" "Don't know, my ex seldom allowed me to eat her. I later learned it was because she had another man's cum in her so I stopped everything." "Everything?" "Everything." "For how long?" "Three years, until our daughter graduated from high school." "Then you went crazy." "No, by then my urgings had been transferred to food and beer. I was too much of a slob for any woman. Three years later my daughter told me that when I walked her down the aisle I had to look as good as she did. I tried my best but she still was the most beautiful person there." "So I'm your first date in six years?" "Longer than that." "Are you going to ravish me?" "Oh I hope so." She giggled and we made room for our plates. Neither of us was happy with our lunch. I had eaten less than a quarter of the fish and just two shrimp. Felice had eaten less than me. "The fish place downtown is open now. Let's go there," I said. "As soon as possible please," she said. I paid the bill as Felice voiced our disappointment with the food and left. When we got downtown finding a parking place was difficult. I asked Felice to go in and try to get us a table and ended up parking behind the office building. There were several cars there. When I walked in my name was being called. We were led to a table for two and ordered the same thing we had ordered at the bay front restaurant. The differences were like night and day. We gushed about our food then gushed about each other's food. The chef came over and asked us if we liked his cooking. Felice stood and kissed his cheek and I thought, "Why not" and kissed his other cheek. "I though you were not going to do that anymore?" the other chef asked him. Her smile told us she was just kidding him so Felice kissed her on the lips. "I thought you said you were not going to do that anymore?" "No, I would never lie to you," then kissed Felice right back. Then she said, "By the way I cook all the fish here." The other chef growled at her and she swatted his butt and ran. As we sat back down I noted that our public display had caused little stir in the place except somebody threw a french-fry at him as he chased after her. Felice said that the restaurant was full of people that are regulars there often and the place is full of women that eat pussy, including the ones with their husbands. After our lunch I asked our waitress if the chefs were husband and wife and said, "Yes, sickenly so." She said that with a grin. After we were outside I took Felice's hand and walked us to the resort. We sat at the patio overlooking the gulf and ordered drinks, she got a margarita and I ordered a beer. We drank our beverages in silence as we stared at the sea. We were still holding hands. "Do you want to wait for us to get to know each other better before we have sex?" I asked. She removed her hand from mine and laid it on my erection. "No. When we get back I want to test your pussy eating skills. Then I expect you to ravage me as you promised." She squeezed my cock and smiled. "Nice," she said. "Check please," I said. We went to my bed and I kissed my way from her lips to her pussy. Her smallish tits had gorgeous puffy nipples but I only stopped to love them briefly. Her pubic hair was neatly trimmed and I rubbed my face on it before I kissed her pussy. I ran the flat of my tongued over her pussy lips but stopped before getting to her clit. She had a prominent clit I was happy to see. I repeated that again several times but more slowly each time. My tongue began sliding in between her pussy lips and I got closer to her clit each time. I got my arms under her thighs and began to insert my tongue as deeply as it could go. Felice had been moaning from the start but it was now more of a groan. On my next trip up I clamped my lips around her clit and began writing the alphabet on her clit with the tip of my tongue. She bucked hard and pressed my head down. She suddenly gasped for breath and I felt her fluids bathe me. I was just to the letter F so I continued. The letter M produced another orgasm and so did the letters Q and Z. I went back to the letter M and stayed there until she pushed my head away. I dried my face on her thighs and her pubic hair and kissed my way to her tits. I loved them until I felt she was breathing as normally as she was going to then slid my cock into her as I kissed her. She wrapped her arms and legs around me hard and had another orgasm. As soon as she recovered from that one I rolled us over. She began to fuck me immediately and hard. I was not going to last long at that pace so I slowed her down by pressing down hard on her ass. I kissed her lips softly and she slowed down for almost a minute but then resumed fucking me. Her next orgasm squeezed my cock hard and I erupted with as much force as it ever had. I'm sure she didn't notice until she had come to a stop. She pressed her tits to my chest as she tried to regain her breath. She then devoured me with a kiss and said, "Please tell me we're a couple, please, please." We had met just yesterday. The safe and prudent thing to do was to slow her down, say something like 'you must have been horny'. But what I said was, "We are most definitely a couple." She resumed devouring me with kisses until my cock slid out of her. She moaned. We got up and went into my shower. We kissed and caressed until we were clean then she put my polo shirt on and said, "I will be right back." She returned with clothes on hangers and a small travel bag. "These will do through tomorrow. Tonight we will fuck on the couch between innings and when we get back in bed we will re-do this afternoon all over again." "You are a good girlfriend, I said. "Thank you," she said as she squeezed my dead cock. "You noticed my place is smaller and has just one bedroom. You have a king size bed and I don't have room for a king size bed. Your patio and kitchen are bigger and better than mine. I'm moving in." "Like I said, you are a good girlfriend." The Cat I took stuff out of a couple of drawers from the clothes chest and showed her that the second bedroom closet was empty. I showed her my office/second bedroom and she said her desk would easily fit there. She went into the kitchen and made notes of what she needed that I didn't have. "I love that your washer/dryer is in the kitchen, mine is outside. I can now do laundry nude." "Please do, and cook nude too please." "You like my body?" "Yes, some parts more than others but yes, definitely." "I like yours too, some parts more than others. Right now my favorite is your face, the way you are looking at me. That was how you were looking at me when we first met. I looked awful but you looked at me as if I was a super model." "You did not look awful. You looked delicious. You taste delicious too," I said before kissing her. "There is a problem. Our baby can slip between the slats of your carport fence. We could keep her inside but that would require we have a litter box. A fence and a cat door like I have would better. The fence would also allow us to fuck in the patio." "Wow, you sure do have a way with words. A fence will be up soon." "Why don't we just swap fence sections and doors? When you kick me out we can just trade back." "Hmm, why not. But don't expect to be kicked out anytime soon." "Good, I hate throwing tantrums." We went to the living room and turned on the TV. It was on a classical music channel and I handed Felice the remote. She put it down on the lamp table. I got in my recliner and pulled her to my lap. "I feel like I have been ravaged for some reason," she said. "Funny. Me too.' "You are the best pussy eater in town although to be honest I have only six women and two men to compare that to." "Thank you, I think." "Thinking about the fuck still sends shivers through me. You have the best cock and the best rhythm than anybody. Again I have few comparisons but all of them had much smaller cocks and none of them had your control. Every time you have an erection I want a fuck please." "Not a problem and I suspect you will try to give me as many erections as possible." "Absolutely. I will be faithful to you. You do not need to be faithful to me but please keep it a secret." "One thing I am is faithful. And you may continue eating all the pussy you want but I want to watch." "Most of the married women allow their husbands to watch. Some allow the husband to fuck the pussy their wives eat. All of my recent men have been those husbands although I have not had a man in over two years." "You just had one." "You are playing the husband part. I belong to a not so small faction that consists of mostly bisexual teachers. Many have lesbian partners but like cock at times. I probably could allow you to fuck them after I eat them." "Thank you but lets not try any of that for a while, I can barely handle just you." She kissed me. I learned a secret from her kiss. Suddenly she had tears rolling down her cheeks, She said, "Sorry. I never expected to ever be in this position. It's overwhelming. I know you do not want an emotional woman on your hands and I don't want to shorten the time before you kick me out so I will keep the emotions under control, Sorry." I kissed her again feeling cocky. She suddenly gasped and looked at me with wide eyes then crushed my lips with hers. Well fuck I thought. I'm trapped. There was a consolation though, I had another erection that she soon felt and straddled me until my cock was again buried in her pussy. She did not stop kissing me but had an orgasm although neither of us had moved. I began to caress her tits and found them wet with tears. I was wet with her tears. Her kiss intensified and she began a slow fuck that was interrupted by another orgasm. My hands left her tits and I put my arms around her. We simply held each other for a few minutes. She ended the kiss and said, "I have a foster son, His name is Jim and he is working a job in Seattle. He just got married to a beautiful Japanese girl. He told me it was love at first sight, they knew they were made for each other. He said their first sex was overwhelming and could not imagine life without her. That is how I feel about you right now." I gave her the best kiss I had ever given anyone as I held her tightly to me. We forgot my hard cock was buried in her pussy. What we absolutely needed was the kiss. The kiss ended when we heard my screen door swing open and heard a meow at the door. We couldn't help but laugh. Felice stood up which reminded us we had been in mid fuck and opened the door. Grace walked in and meowed hello then sat on the rocking chair and watched the fish. The big angel resumed teasing her. Felice slid her pussy over my erection and we watched our pets play. "Are you hungry?" "Yes, now that you mention it." I clicked the remote and we learned it was already past six. "Wow, time really flies when you are having fun. Lets go see what is available in the kitchen." We made a salad with leftover fried chicken and ate it while standing by the kitchen counter. There was a lot of kissing and nipple tweaks and cock squeezing between bites. She had brought me some chicken soup and put it in a coffee mug for me. It was delicious and I drank it all. "Oh, sorry. I forgot that I have to share now." "Not a problem, I brought it for you. I have never been happier than I am now," she said. "I have been, once. It happened when the nurse handed my newborn daughter to me." "That has never happened for me. I have never been married and only lived with a guy my last two years of college. We both knew we would go our separate ways after we graduated so I was never tempted. A friend talked me into being a foster parent but Jim was three years old when I got him." "Show me pictures of him when you bring your stuff over." "I can show you one now," she said and got her cell phone. A photo of her foster son and his wife was the wallpaper on her phone. "Very fine looking couple. You must be very happy how he turned out." "Yes, I am. I am also very happy how you turned out." She wrapped her arms around my neck then jumped on my body and slid my cock back into her. "Bed, couch, or recliner?" I asked. "Recliner." We fucked a little and kissed a lot as we listened to Beethoven's symphony number seven on the TV. We listened, kissed and fucked for its entirety. "We need to give Grace a potty break, she is staring at your door." I got us up and opened the door for her, Felice had her arms and legs wrapped around me and I had my hard cock in her pussy. Neither of us were concerned we might be seen, We waited until Grace did her business behind the last row of pots. When she came back in I locked the door and we walked to the kitchen where Felice took a chicken leg apart and fed it to Grace. We filled a small soup bowl with water and put it on the floor. I had already started the maneuver when I realized it had a high possibility of a crash and burn. I managed and Felice was never concerned for her safety. When we returned to my recliner Grace got on it with us. "Is she old enough to watch people fuck?" "Don't know how old she is, a friend got her for me. She found the cat in her back yard. She was fixed at the vets so I assume she is not interested." "Ok, lets assume she is at least eighteen in human years." She giggled and began a very slow love filled fuck. She stopped after an orgasm and asked, "Any wine left?" "Let go see." I stood with her still impaled by my cock and went to the kitchen. We found a bottle of red with enough for two cups. As we poured the drinks into coffee mugs I set her ass on the table. We took a couple of sips between kisses and I began a fuck. I intended to go slowly and pause for sips of wine but the fuck quickly got out of hand. She began to moan and I felt the need for speed. She almost climbed the mountaintop twice but slid back each time. I fucked her faster and she plummeted down the other side of the mountain and I jumped right down after her. It took a while before we caught our breath enough to sustain a kiss but we eventually did. I picked her up and she again wrapped her arms and legs around me. I took us to the living room and turned off the TV then walked us to our bed. "We need to go to work tomorrow. The alarm is set for six twenty three. Is that early enough for you?" "Yeah, easily." I set the alarm to on and got in bed on my back. Felice took her pillow and put it against my shoulder and was asleep in less than thirty seconds. I was asleep in a minute and a half; I was enjoying the slow retreat of my cock from her pussy. She apparently never felt it slide out. When my alarm woke us up in the morning things immediately became chaotic, neither of us had lived with anyone for years. Both of us took morning showers before dressing for work but sharing a shower proved to be a bad idea. We ended up fucking and that put us well behind schedule. I had a second bathroom with another shower but we never considered that. I never had my coffee on the patio. She forgot she needed to take Grace home and get her car before she could drive to work. Our good-bye kiss delayed us further. We loved how our first day together had started. That afternoon I took her and my doors down and switched them then took my picket fence down. She got us dinner from the Italian restaurant downtown then after we ate we moved all her clothes, her dresser, her computer and her desk to my house. We managed to get all the stuff she wanted to blend seamlessly with my stuff. The only job remaining was to dismantle her fence and erect it at my place. But our fuck distracted us and it had to wait until the next day. We took her fence apart the next afternoon and between us we managed to move four-foot wide and six-foot tall sections and erect them and the gate in less than an hour. It took me twenty minutes to put the picket fence up on her patio. Felice and I walked out to our patio with drinks that evening, we were nude. We loved being nude outside but we needed a place to fuck out there. She said some of her friends had doublewide steel framed loungers in their patios. They were expensive but Felice rightfully pointed out it would not be for lounging, it would be for fucking. We had one before the week was up and we tested its stain resistance immediately. We solved our morning problems by setting the alarm for six AM. That Friday we had become efficient enough to fuck in the shower, dress and have coffee while petting the cat on the patio, then share a deep 'have a nice day' kiss before going to work Her change of address caused an uproar at work. When I joined her at the balcony at the resort that Friday for happy hour there were twelve women there ready to interrogate me. By the time Felice and I finished our hello kiss everyone had forgotten what they had wanted to ask me. She later told me that all of them said that they wished they had met me first. "I had to swat a lot if butts," she said. Our lives settled into a routine that featured a lot of kissing and a lot of fucks. We cooked together; we went to restaurants and met friends. At least once a day we walked around naked with her arms and legs wrapped around me and my cock in her pussy. A couple of times a week I ate her pussy until she was exhausted and my jaw hurt, then fucked. I felt I was ten years younger. I acted like I was twenty years younger. So did she. Once I asked her to make me more of her chicken soup. She said "I don't know how to make the soup; Grandma had made it for me." "Your Grandma lives in town?" "No, she visits regularly but she is not my real Grandma, in fact I have no idea why everyone calls her Grandma, she has a daughter but no grandchildren. She is no one's Grandma. She was at my house the Saturday we met. She was the one that suggested I follow the cat that day, that she might lead me to a great discovery. Grace did. Funny, Grandma seemed to know I would. She likes you by the way." "When did she see me?" "Apparently she watched you that day you fed your plants and talked to the cat. She was helping me find Grace." "I didn't see her." "She is really good at not being seen," Two months went by. I was a new, friendlier person. I met the neighbor ladies and remembered their names. I joined her and her friends for happy hour each Friday. We ate out every Saturday night. We had gone dancing. Most importantly my daughter adored her. I could not see my life without Felice. So I asked her to marry me. She said yes. The Cat & Mouse It is a game of cat and mouse and I can feel like a trap is about to be sprung – I sit and wait in anticipation of your arrival. From which direction will you come and when? I am not in control and uneasiness has filled the moment. Then feel like I am being watched – I scan the crowd and I can feel your presence. Across a room the desire and heat can be felt...you are the cat - a panther I imagine – and I, the prey – the mouse. I am right; you are dressed in black - from head to toe. A look that conveys control and darkness. Yes, the panther is indeed on the prowl... With eyes that give me shivers to my very womanly core you focus on me in a crowd of hundreds. I want to look away, but can't.... Your gaze travels all over my body! My knees go weak - A gasp escapes from me as I feel an all too familiar desire rise within me.... I look for escape...I move quickly, hoping to out run my desire for the physical "you". I feel danger and I move from my seat into the ever-moving wall of dancers. I weave throughout the crowd. My mind races with various scenes of you and I in the throws of passion. The rawness and the realness leave me reeling. I am brought back to reality as a hand grasps my wrist - it's you! You grab me by my waist and press me close to you. I can feel the heat of your breath on my neck. I see that the hunt to has left you out of breath. I too am out of breath and the closeness of you leaves me more than panting and searching for just mere air. My breasts rise and fall against your chest – it is intoxicating this closeness! You look down at my cleavage and glance up and moisten your lips. That very act deepens my yearning. My body is betraying me, as I feel slight tremours desire run through me! You caress the small of my back. A small touch that fans the flames of sex and desire within me even more. The humid warmth of the club, your manly musky scent mixed with my overwhelming desire for your body is creating a situation I can not escape from..... My nipples ache as they brush against your shirt. You draw me closer. I feel your interest in me rising - I try to move away from you. For the first time since seeing you I try to struggle out of your web. I say, "No - I made a mistake - this was wrong! I have to go! This isn't really me! I don't know what I was thinking -- "I stammer as I continue to try to get free from your hold. You stop me with a hard kiss that takes my breath away - all the while one hand gliding up my hip. I break away from the kiss. My lips burning and my mind racing! I gasp for breath and again make the effort to push you away - my hands now on your chest. I can feel your heart beating – it is racing as fast as my own. Your strength is great and with each movement to escape your hold on me becomes stronger. It is useless to struggle I quickly realize! I collapse against your body. I need time to think...what should I do? What do I want to do? With the quick reflexes you take your free hand and softly cradle my chin. I have no choice but to gaze into your piercing eyes You give me a very wicked grin and whisper in my ear, "I think the lady doth protest too much...". The Cat & Mouse....con't The crowd is now pushing in on us. I am getting moister - I blush - as if you can read my mind and know that my own body is betraying me. My need for you is growing and I can feel myself wanting to make contact with you right here – right now! Reason is fleeting and emotion and desire are taking over. My animal instincts are at the surface – ready to break through at any moment! I want to touch you and touch myself. My mind tells me to run – to get away – to not look at you! I turn my head to avert your burning gaze! Your hand moves from my chin to the back of my head - your hand winds itself into my long hair. I am unable to move. I can scarcely breath. My pulse is racing and my heart beating faster than it ever has. A strange mixture of fear, passion and raw desire has control of me. I'm paralyzed - I am fully in your power.... Your other hand continues to glide up my thigh and moves ever so slowly across the top of my leg and along my inner thigh. I try to scream the word "Stop", but it comes out rather weakly. Much like a moan, which seems to amuse you. You give me that now familiar wicked grin and bend you head and kiss the hollow of my neck. Your lips traveling a sensuous path down my throat and beyond... I am floating away on a sea of longing and desire.... the ache that fills me is almost unbearable! I am brought back to reality as I realize you have moved further to my now very moist mound! My eyes widen - you have tricked me - I am caught off guard -.... My mind races, "Please God", I say to myself. I hear you laugh again and darkly whisper, "My dear, God can not help you now!" With that you touch me "there" - that little nub of passion - electricity flies through my body! "I think the devil will have to paid his dues tonight, little one - not God!" as my body is jolted to full attention. Every nerve ending sings out with abandonment. I cling to you as small cries and moans again escape me! I ride wave after wave of passion. You play with me as a cat would with a mouse. Back and forth – back and forth – I ride the waves of desire. You are skilled at what you do and you know how to prolong this aching wanting of lustful pleasure and pure agony! I am helpless and at your mercy! The music surrounds me - I am lost. I reach for you instinctively and feel your manhood bulging with anticipation. You give me that knowing look of a 'true' captor and I hear these words, "Now little mouse you are all mine...." This little mouse knows she has been caught and that the real "the game" has just began...... The little mouse has a plan of her own...... The Cat and the Fiddle Music washed over Karen, as soft and soothing as the caresses of her master, the Maestro. She had been bound, she had been beaten by him, and now she knelt by him as he reclined on the couch, his eyes closed in appreciation of the peace which the music brought. One hand rested on Karen's neck, fingers curled beneath her chin to hold her head up, keep her back erect. On her haunches she felt like an obedient pet, waiting for the Maestro to acknowledge her, to offer some small sign of affection or approval. Out of the corner of her eye, not turning until Maestro said she could, Karen was aware of his other hand moving to his lap, then drawing the loose kaftan he wore up his legs. Then there was a gentle pressure on her neck, he tilted her head and she saw his strong thighs bared, his fingers slipping between them. She gazed down with love, with veneration, until the fingers curled beneath her chin slowly raised her head to gaze into the eyes of the Maestro. There was the hint of a smile in those eyes, a gentle curve to the lips and the slightest suggestion of a nod, at which she lowered her head, kissed his thighs, buried her face in his lap. The loving way Maestro caressed her neck could as easily bring tears to her eyes as any pain he has caused her, after the way he had used her she could only love him all the more for the kindness he now showed. * He was rumoured to be a hard task-master, he was a perfectionist and demanded nothing less than perfection from those in his charge. As he walked across the stage Karen was struck by his athletic grace, he was tall and heavily built but he moved with an ease which belied his bulk. It was when he stepped up onto the conductor's podium, though, when he tossed back his head and that mane of long blonde hair, when he raised his arms as if to embrace them all, it was then that she felt in awe of the power which he exuded. 'Scheherezade, the Entrance of the Kalendar Prince,' he announced, his voice deep and sonorous, reverberating richly about the concert hall, and brought his arms down, the baton held lightly in his right hand. As Karen drew the bow across the violin strings she felt as if it was stroking her heart, drawing music from her soul, her whole body quivered to hear the orchestra swell, to feel herself under the control of the man before her. Her eyes flicked incessantly from the score to the Maestro, from the ink-black of the musical notation to the jet of his eyes, and she played with more passion than ever before, uplifted by the music, orchestrated by the Maestro, her body swaying in time with his baton. There was a sweat on her brow, her cheeks were flushed, she wore a long thin cotton skirt to the rehearsal and beneath it, between her thighs, she could feel herself becoming wet. This was passion, pure and unadulterated.....surely! 'No! No! No!' said the Maestro, tapping his baton vigorously against the podium. 'I sense no feeling! You play like automata rather than musicians with soul! Now again! From the beginning!' And so they began again, and again, and each time Karen's soul seemed lifted ever higher until she felt that it was soaring. Sweat was pouring from her, it ran in rivulets between her breasts, across her belly, along her thighs. There was a tingling numbness in her fingertips from the constant vibration of the strings, every muscle quivered and ached, and at the very heart of the sensation, the epicentre of this, was her groin. Though she was wet she was also afire, it felt as if the bow had been stroking there, the fine strands drawn across her swollen labia rather than across the violin. When the Maestro finally called a halt to the rehearsal, after a punishing three hours, she felt overcome by weariness, as if her body had been used by him, and she slumped in her seat, elbows resting on knees, bow and violin hanging loosely from her hands. 'We will resume tomorrow morning and hope for better,' the Maestro said, stepping down from the podium and crossing the stage. 'And you, First Violinist-' he added. 'Yes Maestro?' said Karen, looking up. 'I will see you in my dressing room when you have packed away your instrument,' he said, and was gone. Quickly Karen packed bow and violin into the case, snapped it shut and stood. Her bare arms were breaking out in goose bumps, now the sweat was cooling on her, and she shivered as she crossed the stage, then again more violently as she entered the bare corridor behind and walked along to the dressing rooms. The goose bumps were spreading, she was no longer sure of the cause, and she felt a shivering which was almost like a trembling in her legs as she reached the door to the Maestro's dressing room. She knocked hesitantly, and then again a little harder. 'One moment!' came the answer, and then, maybe a minute later, 'Enter!' Entering, Karen immediately saw that the Maestro had changed, that gone were the grey slacks and white shirt, the soft black moccasins; now he wore what seemed to be a long kaftan of some fine muslin or cotton, open at the neck and coming down almost to his bared feet. Even more relaxed than his dress, though, was his attitude, sprawled full length on the couch, his baton still in his hand and idly twirling it between his fingers. Put your instrument case down in the corner and then come over here,' he told her, using lazy gestures of the baton to direct her, first to her right where she set down the violin case, and then to a spot beside the couch which she stepped forward to take up. 'So, First Violin? Yes?' he said, his eyes slowly moving up her body to meet hers, but before Karen could answer he cut the air with his baton to silence her. 'No! Fiddle, more like! That is what you are! Fiddle!' Stunned by his harsh tone, by the unexpected words, Karen's mouth fell open and the single word escaped her lips. 'Maestro?' 'You played with passion, I grant you that, you put in effort and labour,' he continued slowly, in his low deep timbre. 'But you played without discipline, too wildly.' The baton was raised, to caution against any protests or interruptions. 'Whores exhibit passion, servants and maids offer effort and labour. Would you consider yourself any of those?' he asked, smiling to offer a pause in which she might now answer. 'No, Maestro,' she managed to respond. 'A lack of discipline gives a slipshod interpretation,' he went on, 'and if the interpretation is slipshod, Fiddle, it means that you are not paying attention to me. I do not merely conduct the orchestra, I orchestrate you, make you dance to my tune. Is that sinking in, Fiddle?' 'Yes, Maestro,' said Karen, lowering her eyes a little, feeling her cheeks burn with shame each time he called her by that derogatory name. 'Good,' he said, and now permitted a slight smile to break, lines forming at the corners of his deep dark eyes, his lips curling and parting to show the strong even teeth. 'And we have passion, at least. I witnessed that. And guess that we have the evidence of that still.' Dropping his hand lazily at the side of the sofa, the Maestro hooked his baton beneath the hem of her skirt and then slowly began to lift it, baring her legs, her knees, the swell of her thighs. He pushed the baton in further beneath her skirt, brought it up higher until finally it touched her knickers, at which point he twirled it in his fingers so that the slender length of wood rolled to the left and the right, moulding the smooth silk against her swelling labia. 'Hold up your skirt and let me see, Fiddle,' he said, in such a calm and even tone that he could not be denied. With trembling hands Karen took hold of her skirt, bunched it high about her waist so that the Maestro could see the full length of her thighs, her flat belly, the brief white knickers which his baton held pressed against her cunt. Yes, we have evidence of your passion, I see a damp patch there,' said the Maestro, and began to stroke the baton slowly back and forth so that her labia seemed to swell and pout around it, almost kissing it. His eyes were fixed on hers as he aroused her, and it was indeed as if she was dancing to his tune, her legs trembled and her hips swayed, she could feel her breasts swell beneath her blouse and she wanted to drive her body onto that flimsy wand in some frenzied tarantella. Suddenly, unexpectedly, the Maestro withdrew the baton from between Karen's thighs, making it rasp against the moist silk as it came free. Swinging his feet to the floor, standing, he walked around her and her eyes followed him as he went to his dressing table. There was fruit there, juice, the usual variety of food and drink which a maestro or virtuoso would require in his dressing room. He filled a glass with wine, raised the rich tawny liquid to his mouth and wetted his lips with it. Silhouetted against the mirror, the bright naked bulbs which were burning all around it made the thin material of his kaftan quite transparent. The contours of his body were clearly defined beneath it, the comforting breadth of his shoulders, the almost feminine slimness of his waist, the firm solidity of his thighs....and between them, between the splayed legs, the dark outline of his tumescent prick hanging low and heavy. 'Turn around, Fiddle!' he ordered, for though his back was turned to her Karen realised that he had been watching her in the mirror. Quickly Karen turned her head, gazed at the blank wall before her, the empty couch beneath her. 'Now what I require of your playing is discipline, Fiddle,' she heard the Maestro say. 'How might we best instil that in you, do you think?' 'I don't know, Maestro,' she answered. There was a pause, and then she felt his hands rest lightly on her shoulders. He must have turned, he had moved close to her, and she could feel the heat of his body no more than an inch away from hers. 'Let your skirt fall, Fiddle,' he told her, and, when she did so, said, 'Unfasten it, let it drop, step out of it.' Karen moved her hands behind her to find the single button which fastened it, felt her fingers graze the Maestro's belly momentarily as she fumbled with it. Then the skirt was free, slid smoothly down her legs to form a pool at her feet. 'Good girl,' he said, and with a gentle pressure on her shoulders he turned her to face the mirror. 'Now lean forward, rest your hands on the dressing table.' Karen did as she was told, bending forward from his touch, resting her hands flat on the polished wood of the dressing table to take her weight. She chanced a glance in the mirror, saw the Maestro squatting before the valise which was beside the couch. It would hold his toiletries, a change of clothes, perhaps more batons, and as he finished rummaging in it and began to rise again she quickly averted her gaze, fixing her eyes on the grain of the wood between her hands. There was a soft purr of the throat, as if the Maestro sensed her obedience and approved of it, she was aware of the fragrance of the fruit and wine to one side of her, conscious of how her cunt was still wet and warm and swollen. Then the Maestro broke the silence. I think the best way to begin instilling discipline is by introducing Fiddle to my Cat,' he said, a threatening mischief now in his voice, and when she heard the air hiss behind her she almost raised her head, turned, until he snapped, 'No! Head bowed! Eyes down!' Then the first blow of the lash struck her, the slender leather strands of the Maestro's cat o'nine tails wrapping themselves around her arse, her thighs, biting so hard and so deep that they surely tore the fabric of her knickers. Karen gave out a yelp as her body bucked and her back arched, her head coming up but her eyes now closed, so great had the pain been. 'Be still! Learn discipline!' the Maestro ordered her, and he gave her a moment to compose herself, to bow her head once more, before he delivered the second blow. A wayward strand of the lash seemed to wrap itself around her waist this time, in a stinging embrace, and as the Maestro drew back his hand for the third blow she felt her body tugged towards him, against the cock which had now grown erect. 'Nice, but not just yet,' he said, pushing her back towards the dressing table with a nudge of his hips, and the next blow made Karen scream out loud. 'Such wonderful acoustics we have in here!' remarked the Maestro, the blows coming continuously now, first with a forehand stroke, then with a backhand slash, as much vigour in his beating of her as there had been in the conducting of the orchestra. Karen's body slowly slumped lower, her arms trembled and her knees were close to buckling. At last she had to rest her head on the dressing table, her cheek wet with tears against her hands, the fingers of one hand knitted tightly around the other. It was only then, as the sobs shook her body, that the blows stopped. 'You acquitted yourself admirably, you take to discipline well,' she heard the Maestro say, but was too weak to respond. Then she felt his fingers hooking in the waist of her knickers, slowly stretching the elastic, then easing them down over her stinging buttocks. He must have gone to his knees as he tugged them to her ankles, for now she felt his lips touch each buttock, kissing them softly, and then his coarse tongue licking them. And as his saliva cooled on her flesh it brought such a sweet relief. 'Nice, Fiddle? It makes the pain worthwhile?' the Maestro asked, his tongue now licking beneath the cheeks, hardening like a cock to work its way between them. Oh yes, Maestro!' Karen gasped, laughing away her tears and parting her legs a little. His tongue was a marvellous instrument, it probed and caressed as well as any fingers could have, found the crinkled hole of her arse and licked it, poked it, his face pressing hard against her as he licked to the very lips of her cunt. Such a virtuoso! she thought. As his tongue finally withdrew she felt his hands on her ankles, then his fingertips running up her calves, her flanks, resting on her hips as he stood once more. Circling her waist, he pulled her against his groin so that she could feel his erection against her, then ran his hands up higher, over her ribs to cup her breasts, raising her up from the dressing table. His fingers nimbly unfastened her blouse and parted it, then returned to her bared breasts, strumming her nipples in a quick pizzicato. Then he held her with one arm, his large hand covering her breast as if for her modesty, raised the other to her neck to caress her there, then ran it down her back, along the soft indentation of her spine. Karen opened her eyes and saw the two of them reflected in the mirror, she caught in his embrace, he nuzzling her neck and kissing her ear, his hidden hand in the small of her back, then at her buttocks. She felt him foraging in the folds of his kaftan, then the material grazing her as it was lifted. Naked thighs now pressed against her, strong and firm, with a soft down of hair on them, and his cock which he had taken in his hand being stroked up and down the crack between her buttocks. The tip was wet, slick, the shaft was firm but all he did was stroke it against her, smearing her with its sticky juices. Patience, Fiddle,' he said, when he felt Karen press back against him. 'Patience goes hand in hand with discipline. Both make passion more enjoyable.' His hands moved to her shoulders, pulled her blouse from them, she raised her arms slightly so that he could slip it from her. Then she heard the material tearing, in the mirror saw his strong hands ripping the thin cotton into long strips. Maestro-?' 'Ssh,' he said softly, drawing her hands behind her to bind them, then her elbows, and finally her uppers arms, a long strip pinning them and winding twice around her chest like a makeshift bandage, squashing her breasts. With an easy movement he spun her and lifted her, sat her on the edge of the dressing table. Maestro has full control now, yes?' he said, reaching out to the nipple which protruded from her twice bound breast, and he twisted it and tugged it like a dog worrying a rubber bone, or an early bird a worm. 'Yes Maestro!' Karen agreed, hissing at the pain. 'Good!' he smiled, releasing the nipple and reaching past her to take up his baton once more. Then he began to move it slowly through the air before her, tracing an intricate arabesque which her eyes followed hypnotically. From his deep chest there came a low bass rumble as he hummed softly, the tune they had rehearsed earlier, its cadences and cascades rising and falling so seductively that they sent a thrill through her groin. Her upper body was bound, her arms were pinned at her sides, her hands tied behind her, but her legs still hung free and she parted them. An hour before, two hours, and she would not have believed herself capable of such a blatant act, but now she was baring her cunt to this man. A downward cut of the baton brought a sudden silence from the Maestro, his hand fell and the baton rested loosely in his fingers, pointing down to the floor. Then, like a water diviner closing on some hidden spring, his fingers twitched, the slender rod flicked and moved haltingly between her thighs. 'The fount of all wisdom, the well of desire,' said the Maestro, making subtle circular motions with the tip of the baton, stroking Karen's labia and then parting them, letting the polished wood slip between them. Karen clamped her thighs together so viciously that she might have snapped off the tip, then relaxed and clenched her cunt a second time to draw it deeper, asked with heavy-lidded eyes that the Maestro help. Nodding, understanding her need, the Maestro inserted the baton deeper, worked it around inside her, searching until he felt the swollen bud of her clitoris, and like a metal tongue clapping against the cup of a bell it raised a song inside her, made her whole body resonate. 'Oh Maestro!' Karen sobbed. 'Sweet, but not enough?' he wondered. 'Oh so sweet!' she told him. 'But not enough!' he told her, and she knew this was true, the Maestro knew it to be true, he could see in her eyes the need for something more. With a final tap against her clitoris he pulled out the baton and tossed it aside, then began to tantalisingly raise his kaftan, lifting it slowly, his eyes never leaving hers as he challenged her not to look down. With the discipline she was learning Karen kept her eyes on his, smiling into them and hoping he could recognise her love, held her gaze fixed even when he raised his kaftan above his head to mask his face for a moment. Even the kaftan fluttering like a blurred white moth when he tossed it aside did not break the spell which held her, she caught it only in the periphery of her vision. Nudging Karen's parted thighs a little wider, then Maestro then took a pace forward to insert his body between them, rested his hands on her knees and squeezed gently. 'More?' he asked, waited for just the slightest nod from Karen, at which he took a hand from her knee and moved his erect cock up onto the edge of the dressing table. She knew that she could look now, knew that she had to, and when she cast her eyes down to see the tip weeping -weeping for her!- she felt like crying with joy, with need. Oh how she needed it, needed him, and her eyes entreated him, she tried to shuffle her bound body closer to the edge of the dressing table. But the Maestro took pity on her, perhaps now even felt the same need himself, for his hands caught her at the waist and lifted her bodily from the dressing table, clutched her to him as he turned and lowered her onto his magnificent erection. Instinctively her free legs wrapped around him, gripping him with a strength which matched his own as he walked her slowly back to the couch, each step he took stirring his cock inside her. There he bent forward, lowered her slowly down and then lay on top of her, his cock never once leaving her. The Cat and the Fiddle 'My Fiddle is about to become a First Violin at last, a Stradivarius,' he grinned down at her, licking his tongue across her breasts, along her neck. 'I will make you sing. I will play a symphony on your soul, make a rhapsody of your body.' 'Oh yes! Please do, Maestro!' Karen begged. 'But will it be allegro or andante?' he asked. 'Would you like it quick or slow?' 'Allegro, Maestro! Allegro con brio!' she pleaded, and he laughed, a deep belly laugh. 'Then slow it shall be!' he said, to deny her and tease her a little while longer, and he rested a hand to either side of her, supporting himself on his powerful arms as he lifted his hips and slowly pulled out of her. 'Slowly, but with feeling.' He pulled back until there was just the tip of his cock inside her, held it there, his body as still as a statue, his biceps bulging but not betraying so much as a tremor as they bore his weight. 'We play as a concert violinist rather than a gypsy fiddler,' he told her, as he began to enter her again, moving with an agonising slowness. 'We play with feeling rather than frenzy, verve rather than vigour, love rather than lust.' Love? Could he have meant that? Karen hoped so, for love was what she felt for the Maestro, despite the pain he had caused her, and if she lifted her hips slightly to meet him it was to offer herself to him now, rather than to demand him. Intuitively he seemed to understand this, for his slow thrust forced himself deep inside her and there he held his cock, touching the roof of her cunt, touching her heart and stirring her spirit. And when he lowered his face to hers to kiss her it seemed that he was sucking out her soul. 'A touch more? Now?' he asked, taking his lips from hers, slipping his tongue from her mouth. 'Slowly we will build to our crescendo, if it pleases Maestro,' said Karen, and felt him begin to move rhythmically inside her. 'The Entrance of the Kalendar Prince!' laughed the Maestro.