by Desconhecido
Her room is in slight disarray. The closet door is ajar. There are shoes scattered on the floor inside the closet. Lots of different types of shoes: black pumps, a pair of black suede boots, Nike tennis shoes, and even a pair of stiletto heels. Her dresses and blouses are hung neatly.
Her dresser has five drawers. The third is open, its dainty contents spilling over and onto the floor. A nylon hangs over the edge of the drawer, a pair of purple panties form a silky puddle in front of the dresser, and next to the panties is a single white sock. There are more clothes scattered around her room: an odd sock here, a pair of panties there, a skirt left lying where she had stepped out of it after a long day at work…
I open the top drawer and find her flannel nightgowns and flimsy negligees. Her jeans are in the second drawer, each pair neatly folded. The fourth drawer contains bras, panties, socks, and stockings, including a pair of black fishnet stockings I imagine her wearing for one of her lovers.
The fifth drawer is full of stuff: empty perfume bottles, notes, jewelry, an assortment of candles…
I touch some of it, careful not to disturb anything. Hidden away at the bottom of the drawer is a chrome vibrator. I pick it up and visualize the cold metal sliding into her pink pussy. I wonder how she uses it. Is it strictly for her personal pleasure, or has she performed with it for a lover?
I find a pair of worn panties at the foot of the bed.
Dirty panties.
White with rose prints.
I sniff them. Her scent is still there, as if the panties have only recently been removed.
I take out my cock and wrap her panties around it. I imagine fucking her as I jerk myself off that way. The silk feels cool at first but gradually warms as I quicken my pace.
Then I hear her key jiggle in the front door. I continue stroking my cock, knowing I should stop, somehow unable to do so, even at the risk of getting caught in her room.
Getting caught would not be a good thing. She trusts me. To find me in violation of that trust, invading her private space, would end our friendship.
I hear her moving around in the kitchen, putting away groceries. I work faster, eager to finish before she does.
This is her room.
I have no business here…
Higher Education
“How bad do you want it?” Lydia asked. Lydia Miles was Dean of Belmont University. She was in the process of making cuts required by the new budget. Paul Connors shifted in his chair. “My job is important to me,” he said. “I’d do just about anything to keep it.”
Lydia smiled. It was the answer she was looking for. “Good,” she said. “You’re just the type of teacher we’d like to keep around. You know what’s important, and you know how important it is to go the extra mile. I’d like to give you the opportunity to keep your position here at Belmont.”
“I appreciate that,” Paul said, waiting for the other shoe to fall.
Lydia came around to the front of her desk and sat on the edge of it. “I plan to give you an opportunity to prove yourself. You’ll be tested thoroughly.”
“Tested?”
“You’re not married, am I right?”
He nodded, still uncertain about where she was heading.
“And rather attractive,” she added.
“Thank you,” he said, now on guard.
“My job can be quite time consuming, sometimes extremely stressful. I myself don’t have a relationship. A mainstream romantic relationship would be impossible for me to maintain. I simply can’t afford to give as much as I take. Do you follow what I’m telling you?”
“Not exactly,” he said.
“I’m extremely demanding,” she said. “It takes a special man to meet my needs, and if you think you can do it, I can assure your future here at the college.”
“What would you like from me?” he asked.
Lydia was ten or twelve years his senior, attractive in a stern sort of way, with dark hair, green eyes, and a face creased with minimal signs of age. If fucking her was the answer to keeping his job, Paul would have no problem accommodating her wish.
“Let’s start with a show of devotion,” she said. “Just something to demonstrate your willingness to obey.” She paused a moment, then she instructed him to take out his cock and jerk off for her.
He reached for his zipper, hesitated a split second, then unzipped his pants and reached inside to extract his dick, which was already half hard.
Lydia ’s eyes fell to his lap. “Well, go on,” she said. “Play with it.”
He felt his cheek getting warm. He’d never masturbated in front of anyone. He wrapped his hand around his dick and started stroking it, moving his hand slowly up and down its full length.
Lydia watched without saying a word, measuring his performance. Finally she dropped to her haunches in front of him, taking hold of his erection, lifting it so she could examine the length of it.
“Nice cock,” she said.
She ran her hand up and down it a few times, gave it a good squeeze, and then climbed back onto the desk. “Play with it some more,” she told him.
She unbuttoned her blouse, pulled one lacy bra cup over her left breast, and started playing with her nipple. It was a small breast topped with a dark brown nipple about half an inch long. Paul wasn’t much of a tit man, as many men are, and he preferred them small enough he could cover them with his hand.
Lydia opened her blouse further, slipping her other breast free. “Do you like these?” she asked, cupping her tits and twirling her nipples between the thumb and forefinger of each hand.
He felt like a schoolboy getting his first look at a woman’s naked tits. “I like them,” he answered, his voice taking on a raspy edge.
“I want you to come now,” she said, and the tone of her voice carried a harsh sense of urgency.
Paul felt the beginnings of an orgasm stir in his belly. He pumped his cock, moaning as his pleasure mounted. His eyes never left her breasts. Cum spurted hard and thick, covering the short distance separating him from the woman in charge of his future. It splashed over one of her stocking-clad legs.
She retrieved a towel from her desk, wiped her leg, and handed the towel to Paul. While he cleaned up his mess, she wrote her address on a piece of paper for him. “I’ll see you tonight, seven o’clock sharp,” she said.
* * * *
Paul’s career was important to him, and Lydia was an attractive woman, so he convinced himself what he was doing with her was justified. He’d felt a little humiliated in her office earlier in the day, but he’d also felt a degree of sexual excitement unlike any he’d felt before.
It was almost seven. He’d understood her quite well when she’d insisted he be on time. He turned into the circular drive leading to a Tudor-style estate, lavish in its intricate stonework design. He wasn’t sure what the salary of a college dean might be, but by the look of Lydia ’s living environment, she had plenty of money at her disposal. She wouldn’t be going hungry any time soon, at least that much was certain.
He parked his Toyota and got out, standing in awe of the beautiful home for half a minute before he rang the doorbell, initiating chimes that played a tune he recognized but couldn’t quite place.
Lydia opened the door looking a little less stern than usual. She wore a white blouse, buttoned down far enough to expose the smooth edges of her breasts, a tight pair of jeans, and a pair of strap high heels.
Paul followed her to the living room. An ice bucket with a bottle of Dom Pérignon Rosé sat on a circular glass-topped coffee table. Lydia poured two flutes and handed one to Paul.
“Let me get straight to the point,” she said, capturing his eyes with hers. “You’re here to please me. If there is any hesitation on your part, I’ll call the whole thing off. Is that clear?”
He nodded. “Perfectly,” he said.
“Good.”
They clinked flutes and sipped the expensive champagne.
“Undress,” she said, all business now.
<
br /> He set his half-empty flute next to the bucket and began undoing the buttons on his shirt. He undid his belt buckle, kicked off his shoes, then stepped out of his pants. His socks came next, followed by his shirt.
He was naked and had an erection in front of the dean of the university.
“That pleases me,” Lydia said, nodding at his cock.
She ran her fingers from the base of his penis to the tip, moving around the rim of his smooth helmet. She tightened her hand around his shaft, stroked it for a minute, then gave it a sudden, hard squeeze, bringing Paul up on his toes.
“Sit down,” she said.
She pushed him back on the couch before he could follow her instruction, then she unbuttoned her blouse. “Are you ready to please me?”
“Yes.”
She slipped her blouse from her shoulders and drew the satin cups of her bra away from her breasts. She cupped her tits and lifted them in the palms of her hands, caressing her nipples with her thumbs.
“Touch your cock,” she said. “I like when a man plays with his cock.”
His cock felt harder to him than usual, throbbing hard against his palm. He moved his hand up and down, fixing his eyes on Lydia ’s face.
She leaned over him and pushed a nipple into his mouth. He sucked hard, pulling it deep into his mouth and lavishing it with sloppy-wet tongue strokes.
She wiggled out of her jeans and made him get on his knees in front of her.
“Lick my panties,” she said.
Her panties were white. The dark triangle of her pubic hair was visible through the thin material. Paul pressed his mouth to her mound. She grabbed the back of his head with both hands, pulling him against her, making it hard for him to breathe. He brushed his tongue over the rough fabric, feeling the wiry curls of her pussy against his tongue. She pushed him away suddenly. He sucked in a gulp of air, and with it came the heady scent of her aroused pussy.
Lydia stepped out of her panties and sat on the couch, spreading her legs wide. Paul was still on his knees, gazing between her legs. The sight of her thick, dark bush fascinated him. He went to her on hands and knees. A hint of her inner lips were just visible behind the curly thatch of pubic hair. Lydia separated her hairy outer lips with two fingers, exposing the ragged dark red inner flaps, her center so copiously wet that he couldn’t resist sinking his tongue into her.
It was fairly obvious Lydia had seen her fair share of cocks, many of them large. Her pussy was hot, open, and accommodating. Paul slid his tongue in effortlessly, wiggling it around inside her. Lydia tangled her fingers in his hair, pulling it as she forced him down on her cunt. She pumped her hips, bumping her wet cunt against his face, trying to keep his tongue inside her.
“Ummm, good,” she said, moaning. “Now my clit… lick it.”
His lips sought her clit. He hooked it between them and sucked, using his tongue at the same time. Lydia gasped and groaned, and then she pushed him away from her again.
“Fuck me,” she gasped.
Paul gripped his cock firmly in one hand and situated himself between her legs. He pushed into her, forcing the lips of her pussy open. Her thick pussy hairs tickled his cock. He held one of her legs in each hand as he sank his cock deep into her pussy. She was soaking wet.
“Fuck me hard,” she said. “Come on, fuck me.”
He held her tight and pumped her pussy with long, steady strokes. Beads of sweat broke out on his forehead and ran down his face. His breathing became more labored. His stomach collided with her pussy each time his cock disappeared inside her.
He wiped sweat away with the back of one hand, not missing a stroke. Her pussy was warm and wet. He felt his balls tightening, felt an orgasm building deep in his groin and working its way up.
“I’m coming,” he said, grunting as he continued fucking her.
“Not in me,” Lydia said, pushing him away from her.
Paul groped his cock and stroked it, looking like a lost puppy. Lydia slid to the edge of the couch, one hand between her legs, fingers working her pussy as she watched him.
“Come on my stomach,” she said.
He scooted closer to her, still pumping his dick. A thick, sticky stream of cum spurted onto her stomach. He continued to milk his dick, showering her breasts and belly, squeezing the last few dribbles of spunk over his fingers.
Lydia ran two fingers through the sticky mess on her belly and held them out to Paul. “Lick it off,” she said, and before he could refuse, she pushed her fingers into his mouth.
The shock of having his cum shoved down his throat caught him by surprise. His initial reaction was to turn away.
“Lick it,” Lydia said in a firm tone that left no doubt in Paul’s mind that she wasn’t simply offering, she was telling him what he needed to do.
He ran his tongue over each of her fingers, licking them clean.
“That’s a good boy,” she said. “Now, let’s have a little more champagne.”
* * * *
Paul was late for class the next morning. He had planned to lecture, but his mind was occupied with Lydia. He instructed his students to work out of their books, and while he pretended to grade papers, he wondered what it was about Lydia that he enjoyed. He’d been married once and divorced his wife because of her control issues, but for some undetermined reason, he enjoyed the power Lydia wielded over him.
Lydia called Paul to her office at noon. She instructed him to pick her up at seven o’clock that evening. “I have a special night planned,” she promised.
“You assume I have no plans of my own?” he asked.
“If you have other plans, cancel them,” she said, leaving no doubt in his mind that she expected to be his top priority.
“I’ll be there,” he said.
* * * *
Lydia knew all the underground hot spots. After a relaxing dinner, she took him to a sex club called Dazzler. He couldn’t believe the atmosphere inside the place. Naked and half-naked men and women walking around, some of them fucking right there on the dance floor.
A lot of the people there knew Lydia. It was apparent she was a regular. Paul followed her around, nodding and shaking hands when she introduced him to someone new.
“This place is my favorite,” she said.
She had to scream to be heard over the sound system. When Lydia took him into the private back rooms of the bar, Paul was relieved to find it much quieter. The music could still be heard, but it was muffled and less obnoxious now.
“This is what membership pays for,” Lydia said, indicating glass-walled rooms along both sides of the corridor.
Paul saw that many of the rooms were occupied. His interest fell immediately to the room closest to him. There was a naked blonde on her knees in the room, her hands bound behind her back, a blindfold over her eyes. Four naked men stood around her, jerking themselves off. The blonde had her head tilted back and her mouth open. Now and then her pink tongue danced out.
One by one the men unleashed their loads, splashing the blonde’s face and jerking off into her mouth. She let the cum fill her mouth before swallowing. After each of the men had finished coming, they took turns letting the blonde lick their cocks clean.
Paul turned his attention to another room, where a naked man was straddling what appeared to be an exercise bench. His hands were tied to a bar that ran straight across in front of him. His ass was propped high. Another man straddled him from behind and was fucking him in the ass.
Lydia appreciated this scene.
“There are two types of people in the world,” Lydia explained. “Those who dominate and those who are dominated. I know my place in the world. Do you know yours?”
Paul looked at Lydia for a moment. He tried to read her mind. What was she thinking? What made her tick?
“There are private rooms in the back,” she said.
She started in that direction. Paul followed her, glancing one more time at the room with the blonde and the four guys in it. The blonde was sandwiched between tw
o of the men now, taking one cock in her pussy and one in her ass. The other two guys flanked her and took turns sticking their cocks in her mouth.
Lydia led Paul down the hallway. They passed more glass-walled rooms featuring a variety of deviate sexual activity. They passed a room where a woman in black leather was spanking another woman while using the heel a stiletto in her ass. Another room had a man lying naked on a table while a big-breasted blonde and a gothic-looking redhead dripped hot wax on his cock and balls.
Lydia finally stopped outside of a closed door. “I reserved this room for us,” she said. She opened the door and stood aside, motioning Paul to enter the room.
There were two women already in the room. One of them had white-blonde hair. She lay naked on a large table, her arms above her head and her wrists shackled. Her feet were apart and her ankles were also shackled. Her pussy was shaved completely. A brunette in black panties and a leather bustier stood beside the blonde, next to a smaller table adorned with a variety of sex toys.
A large, plush couch sat along one wall. Lydia and Paul made themselves comfortable there. The brunette seemed not to notice them. Her attention was focused on the blonde. She began to run her hands over the blonde’s naked body, carefully not to touch her breasts or her pussy.
The blonde had her eyes closed. She arched her back as the brunette’s hands traveled down her belly and along her thighs.
“This is going to be quite a show,” Lydia whispered to Paul.
He nodded but didn’t take his eyes off the two women.
The brunette moved one hand over the blonde’s smooth-shaven pussy and spread the lips apart with two fingers. She leaned down and kissed the blonde girl on the mouth, then she moved to take one of the blonde’s hard pink nipples between her lips, sucking hard on it. She thrust her middle finger into the blonde’s pussy at the same time.
The blonde moaned as the brunette’s slender finger slid fully inside her.
The dark- haired girl pressed her thumb down on the blonde girl’s swollen clit and massaged it as she pumped her finger in and out of the blonde’s pink hole.