“Certainly, Ma’am”
I unpinned them from the backing board and held them under the crystal downlight, which made them almost sizzle. Our hands touched as she took them from me, and I felt another spark jump between us that rocketed through me all the way to my toes, via my pussy. In my life, I had never, ever felt anything quite like it before. I’ve met lots of guys, and fancied the heck out of them, and done fumbles and gropes on the dancefloor and such. But, never had I felt a surge of excitement at the touch of another person before. It was freakin’ amazing. Even that time when Jodi was feeling my tits it didn’t make me feel like I did right then.
I grabbed the mirror while I wondered if she felt it herself, or whether it was just my overworked imagination. Probably not, I thought, what on earth would such a woman see in dowdy little old me? Plus, she said she was married, so my earlier assumption that she was a lesbian seemed well wide of the mark. Of course, that didn’t mean she might not swing both ways. Maybe the suggestion of helping her with her husband’s dick was just an excuse for her to have her way with me. I shivered at the thought.
I realized I was daydreaming, and she was staring at me. I swear it was like she could see inside my very soul. I felt myself blushing bright red again at her stare, but she just smiled. I think she knew she had me all fidgety of that I was positive.
She held the necklace up to her throat but her yellow shirt was buttoned too high to get the full impact. She slowly opened the top two buttons, watching me as I watched her, and gave her lips a slight lick with the tip of her tongue. She exposed the beautiful swell of her breasts and the very top of her black lace bra.
“What do you think, pet?” she asked with a very quiet husky voice.
Almost in a dreamlike state, I replied, “I think they are amazing, ma’am.”
Does she even know what she is doing to me?
“Are you talking about the pearls, or my breasts, kitten?”
I slowly dragged my gaze from her bust to those dark, sultry eyes, and whispered, “Oh, I’m so sorry, ma’am; of course, I was referring to the pearls.”
“You mean, you don’t think my breasts are amazing? Kitten, I’m hurt.”
What is this woman doing to me? I don’t ever remember feeling so hot and bothered as I did right then. But, I’m sure she knew exactly what she was doing, and that I was powerless to stop her.
“Ma’am, I’m sure your breasts are breathtaking, but I can’t see them, so I was of course, talking about how well the pearls look on you.”
God, I sounded geeky, and I knew it, but this was a customer, and I was at work. No matter how much she was turning me on, and teasing me, I couldn’t afford to lose my job. I’m sure I would lose it, if the likes of this customer complained to good old Mr. let-me-look-up-your-skirt Baines.
“Would you like to see them, pet?”
I literally gulped. Yes folks, I heard myself gulp. I stared back in amazement, two can play at this double entendre game. “Yes ma’am, I’d love to; would you like me to do the clasp for you?” Let her wonder if I mean the clasp on her bra, or the necklace.
I took the pearls from her hand, and our fingers brushed together again. She gave me such a lovely smile. “Mmm, you’re such a sexy kitten, aren’t you? When you said clasp, I thought you said grasp, and you were talking about my breasts. I think I would love you to grasp them.” Then she giggled a throaty laugh, which teased me even more.
I almost ran around the counter while she turned her back to me. I had to admit, the back view was as hot as her front, and I wondered what sort of panties she wore. Now, please understand that was a bizarre thought, and right out of left field. It shocked the whoopees out of me as soon as I realized I had thought it. What is wrong with me? I had no idea where it came from, as I do not usually wonder about women’s undergarments. Why on earth would I be thinking about her panties?
I’ve never in my life had what the women’s magazines called lesbian tendencies, other than the one time with Jodie at the rave. That wouldn’t have happened if we hadn’t been goaded into it by two blokes who were stoned and wanted to watch us lez it up.
Okay, I admit it, I did have occasional thoughts after that episode, especially when she offered to take it further when we were alone, and who wouldn’t? If you force it out of me, I admit sometimes when I use my vibrator on myself, I fantasize about Jodie going down on me. But, I didn’t consider it to be anything like lesbian leanings. I was as straight as a straight woman could be. Yet here I was, at work, in broad daylight, sober as a judge, and I’m checking out her bum while wondering if she wore a thong or briefs!
She was quite a bit taller than me so I had to reach around her and my wrists rested slightly on her shoulders as I held the necklace and then struggled with the catch, trying as best as my trembling fingers would allow, to do it up.
“I’m sorry it’s taking a while, my fingers don’t seem to want to work properly. It must be the cold,” I said, as I tried desperately to lower my superheated core temperature, and find some professionalism.
“It’s all right, Gloria, you have a very gentle touch, I’m quite enjoying it.”
Finally, I got the stupid hook in the stupid fucking hole, and I smoothed it out on the back of her neck, secretly enjoying it myself. She bent and looked in the mirror. Then she pulled the sides of her shirt further open, and to the sides, so there was no obstruction to her view of the necklace as it sat on her neck and upper chest.
By her doing that, and her being side on to me, I was treated to the unbelievably erotic sight of her full breasts cupped in black lace. Suddenly, I totally got what men saw in us, how the mere sight of a woman’s bra cup could make a man gaga and stupid, because as I stared at her breasts, that was exactly how I felt.
Oh, she pretended to be looking in the mirror at how she appeared, but I’m sure what she was really doing was watching my face. I saw her gazing at me, as I stood open mouthed. I admit I was almost salivating at this wonderfully sexual woman. Granted, she was twice my age but undoubtedly, she knew more about turning me on in her little fingernail than my, soon-to-be at this rate, ex-boyfriend did in his whole body.
As I stared, fully aware she was watching me, I wanted nothing more in life than to cup those breasts in my hands, to uncover them, and kiss them all over. She stood up straight and turned back to me, still holding her shirt open. In a voice now breathless, as well as husky, she said, “What do you think of them now, Gloria?”
Of course, she was referring to her tits, I knew it, she knew it, and she knew I knew it. I licked my lips slowly, wanting to tease her as much as she was teasing me. I wanted her to think of my wet lips over her nipples when I replied, “They are stunningly beautiful, ma’am, and the necklace looks gorgeous on you as well.”
There, I had done it; I’d made a sexual pass at another woman. I was turned on by that, and shocked, embarrassed, and a million other emotions raced through me. But, oh my God, I was also so incredibly excited. Why am I still calling her ma’am? I’m not in the slightest bit at all submissive. Normally, if anything I’m the other way, but with this statuesque woman, who represented the closest I had ever experienced to the expression “sex on two legs,” I felt like I must. Maybe it was the whole pet and kitten thing she was calling me, as if she were putting me in my place. She was letting me know I was to be the worshiper, and hers was the body to be worshipped. One thing I did know was that her stunning body was one altar I would love to worship at.
Like I said before, I knew the mechanics of lesbianism; who didn’t in this enlightened age? I knew what two women did together, the touching and licking etc. Sure, when you watched movies of two, or more, women together, it looked hot. Sometimes it seemed like the actors were getting right into it too, if in fact they were acting, which I sometimes wondered.
I thought back to the time with Jodi, and remembered I was very much enjoying her hand on my boob pinching and tugging at my nipple, as she was tongue kissing the fuck out of me. But,
that was all about what she was doing to me. Here I stood, staring at this woman’s stunning breasts, wanting so much to touch them, and I didn’t even know her name. It was a revelation, one of those watershed moments people talk about in their lives, like when they take up religion or something.
“Well, pet, do you know what I’d like to do now?” she asked.
All I could think, all I wanted to hear, the one thought banging around in my head like a pinball machine was: yes, for God’s sake ask me to kiss your tits…
I looked up at her face; in those stilettos, she was a good six or seven inches taller than me, and with a voice barely above a whisper I said, “No, ma’am, what’s that?”
“I would like to see how this necklace looks on you; would you mind?”
Oh my God, I felt shattered. So let down, and I’m sure it showed on my face. I was positive she was going to ask me to touch her, to lift her tits out of her bra and suck them, and I felt a massive disappointment when she didn’t.
I nodded at her, unable to speak. I watched her let go of her shirt and reach behind her to undo the clasp of the necklace. Of course, her fingers weren’t trembling as mine were before, and she did it at the first attempt. Then, as if it was in slow motion, and never taking her gaze from mine, her hands were around me. Just for a fleeting moment, with her hands around my neck, I thought she would kiss me. If she had, I don’t know what I would have done, probably wet myself in fear and excitement. A huge part of me was hoping she would, but she didn’t.
I felt her fingers at the back my neck, underneath my hair, so softly touching me as she clasped the necklace. Goose bumps invaded my body from her touch, and whether she was trembling while touching me, which I hoped, or whether she just wanted to drag it out to tease me even more I don’t know, but it took forever to fix.
When it was finally done, it hung down over the top of my prim and proper, white, home brand blouse. I knew what was coming next, somehow I just knew, and in my head, I shouted for her to do it.
“Do you mind, kitten?”
I bit my bottom lip, and shook my head no; I didn’t mind in the slightest. In fact, my body was screaming out for it. At the same time, in my addled brain, I wondered how on earth the word kitten could be so fucking sexy. From her blood-red lips though, anything, including her shopping list, would sound sexy.
I watched her face intently as she lowered her stare, and her fingers closed on the top little white button of my shirt. So slowly it hurt, she undid it. Then, thank God, she undid the next one, which happened to be in the middle of my titties, but she didn’t stop there, she loosened the next one too like she had all the time in the world. She then opened my shirt, and I wished with all my heart I’d worn a sexier bra to work.
My bust size was only a B cup, and the bra itself was a little padded. It was just to make me look a little fuller, because I know boys my age like bigger boobed girls, and I wasn’t blessed in that area. But on the plus side, I always felt my tits matched the rest of my body. If I ran they didn’t bang me on the chin, and on warm days I could easily not wear a bra at all. So, all in all, I was happy with how I stacked up, though of course I knew I was far from perfection.
On that day though, in the shop, as I saw her look at my cheap and nasty padded bra, while pretending to be appreciating how a necklace looked, I would have given anything to have bigger tits in a sexy bra that knocked her socks off.
“Mmm,” she said. “Kitten, you look gorgeous, good enough to eat.”
So, what I thought was, yes, eat me, lick me, suck me, bite me, make me cum, but of course what I said was, “Thank you, ma’am. I’m so glad you like the necklace.”
Yeah, dorky, I know.
“Oh that’s very nice too, pet. But, it’s your lovely boobs I’m interested in. I can see what you meant though.”
I was lost. Flattered that such a goddess would be impressed with my bust, but confused by her saying she knew what I meant. I struggled with it for a few seconds while she just kept staring at me before I mumbled, “Meant about what, ma’am?”
“How the necklace looks after you’ve had a mouthful of my husband’s cum and you’ve slowly let it drip out over your neck. Yes I can see you would look stunning with a real pearl necklace.”
I nearly swooned. Yes, I know how ridiculous those who know me might think that sounds; there is no possible way I could swoon. But there it is; I very nearly did. I’ve never had anyone, talk such erotic filth to me, in such a sexy way, in my life. Plus, of course we were standing toe to toe with both of our shirts undone showing each other our bras and if that’s not sexy I don’t know what is. I was more turned on than at any other time in my life, bar none, and I’d barely been touched physically.
What could I say to that? I was speechless. I just stared back, dumb, hoping that by my silence she could do what she wanted to me.
“Do you need to cum, kitten? Are you wet right now?”
“Oh God, yes, ma’am.”
She cupped my left breast in her hand, and I felt my body quiver, and involuntarily I swiveled against her. I wanted to let her know I was willing, and needed her to go further. I wanted to feel her hand on my bare skin. I closed my eyes and moaned as she kneaded me through the stuffing of my bra.
“Oh you are a naughty little kitten, aren’t you? Getting all wet in your panties, here in the middle of the shop, where anyone could look in through the window and see me touching you.”
Oh, fuck. With those words, I realized we were in the shop, and if someone walked by and looked in the window, they would see her hand on my aching breast. Right then, I-didn’t-fucking-care. But somewhere, in the fog of my brain, common sense prevailed. Slowly I sidled backward, not wanting her to stop touching me. My eyes were pleading with her, but her hand slipped off when I moved. I raised my own to cover it, and held it over my breast, squeezing it to me. I towed her with me, as I walked backward.
“Where are we going, kitten? What do you have in mind?”
I jerked my head backward, so she could see where I was aiming. There was an upright display cabinet against the wall, a big one. If we stood by the side of it, someone looking in through the shop window would not see us.
“Oh, I see. You are a naughty little pet, aren’t you, kitten? You really do want me to pull your knickers down right here and now, don’t you?”
“Oh God yesssss, I have never felt more turned on in my life, ma’am.”
“And what will you do for me pet, assuming I want to help you cum?”
“Anything ma’am, anything you ask me to do.” I was getting frantic, and she knew it. All the talk of being naughty, and her taking my panties down, all the while squeezing my breast was driving me insane. I knew, in my heart, I would have done anything she wanted.
“You must call me Mistress if you want me to play with you.”
Oh my God, can this situation get any freakier? And can it be any sexier? Me calling a woman my Mistress, like I was her sex slave? I felt myself leaking into my panties and I desperately needed to touch myself to relieve the incessant itch there. I knew I was hooked; I would do anything she wanted, if she would just help me climax.
“Yes Mistress, please touch me, I will do anything you ask.”
“Anything, kitten? Think carefully before you answer, because if you say yes, I will expect that you mean it. And, I am not just talking now; I am talking in the future. If I wanted to meet and play with you some more, I mean. So, be very, very sure.”
Suddenly, and with incredible vividness, I imagined being naked on my knees with my mouth over her pussy while she stood in front of me. Her legs spread, and me licking her like I had seen in the movies. I knew all the way down to my soul, that, I had never, ever had such a thought before in my nearly nineteen years but that was what I wanted. To be her slave, for her to use, and the thought drove me wild with lust.
If I’d been calmer I would have turned tail and ran. If anyone said to me before that the day would come when I would want to bec
ome a lesbian slave, with a woman considerably older than me, I would have laughed in their face before calling for the men in white jackets to take them away. But, here I stood, walking backward to a hidden spot, so she could touch me wherever she wanted to touch me. With all of my heart and soul I hoped upon hope this stunning woman would take me under her wing, and teach me how to please her, as well as please me.
My back rested up against the wall with a slight thud, and we were now out of sight from the street. I gazed into her eyes so she would see the sincerity in me, and said, “Anything, Mistress, anything you ask me to do, I will do.”
She kissed me, with a longing and a hunger I have never known. It was without doubt the most erotic kiss I had ever experienced. Nothing was close, not even that time with Jodi. Looking back now, thinking it over, I believe it was because I had totally given myself to her, and that felt so liberating.
It may sound strange, and it would have to me too before it happened. But in that kiss I realized that to give oneself emotionally and sexually to another, is liberating, because deep down, I knew what it meant. It meant I had relieved myself of all responsibility, of all decision making, and it left me free to just enjoy the moment. Whether that was serving her needs, or her serving mine, I would do what she wanted me to do, willingly.
As she kissed me, and her warm, wet, tongue invaded my mouth; I felt her tugging my shirt out of my skirt so it would be open and out of the way. Then, her fingers tickled their way to the underside of my bra and lifted it up over my small breasts and rock hard nipples that were begging for her touch. But still she wouldn’t. Instead she kissed me repeatedly, her hands running up and down my sides, then around to my back, then down to hold my bottom then back up again. I’ve never been kissed like that, but I knew I wanted to again, over and over again, I had no idea kissing with either sex could be this erotic.
She stepped away from me, and I became frantic again, questioning her with my look.
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