The Mistress and the Mouse

by JJ Giles

  “Oh, God,” he prayed in gratitude for having sent him Morgan le Fey.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Morgan sat on the balcony of her condo watching the rush hour traffic swell beneath her. Everyone in the world had somewhere to go. Home, of course, to be with their families. She could only think of hers, her precious Mouse, a man she loved more than life itself. The man she thought of as her father, Father Romanelli. What must they be doing now?

  She also thought of the woman Brian was going to marry. A fortunate woman, although Morgan would likely scratch her eyes out if ever she had to see her. Who the hell was she? A client of his, one of those impossibly wealthy older widows who have nothing better to do than spend their late husbands’ fortunes? A bored housewife like Cheryl who was to live on alimony the rest of her life with a pretty little stud on the side?

  Yet, he loved Morgan. Desperately, he loved her and she knew that. Daily, he reminded her not only with the passionate utterance of those three little words but in the thousands of ways his heart spilled over with it.

  The thousands of flowers he brought into the house from the beds he maintained. The way her satin panties stroked his cheek just before he dipped them in the sink to wash them by hand. The rapture in his expression when she appeared unexpectedly. Her car cleaned and polished every Saturday whether it needed it or not.

  He asked for so little in return. To be fed, to be loved, to be disciplined, her favorite task. To be cuddled, to be noticed, just to be appreciated which was so easy. Why couldn’t that be enough for him? Why does he have to be married? Incredulously, she looked deep into the fire of the diamonds on her finger. Why does he insist...?

  “Madame.” The purr from Kitty’s throat broke her misery.

  Snuffling back tears, Morgan said, “Yes, Baby.”

  “Unless you need me, I should go home and feed the dogs, pick up the mail.”

  “Yeah,” Morgan said softly. “Yeah...my five o’clock will be here in just a minute.”

  Sadly, Kitty nodded. Trying to sound happy, she offered, “How ‘bout I bring back a pizza?”

  Her voice a little stronger with gratitude for Kitty’s interest, Morgan said, “Yeah. And some beer. Pizza and beer for a Friday night. Stop and get a movie if you want it.”

  “Nah...let’s just settle for the Playboy channel.”

  Morgan nodded as she heard the doorbell chime. “Tell you what. You’ve been so sweet, why don’t we go clubbing tomorrow night?”

  “Can we?” Kitty’s expression instantly brightened.

  Broadly, Morgan smiled. “You got a hard-on for that new Dom on the scene, don’t you?”

  “He’s a fucking knock-out. Do you think you could get him to do me?”

  “He’ll do you or I’ll do him,” Morgan said snidely. “So be careful and I’ll see you in a little while.”

  “I love you,” Kitty said squirming. Excitedly, she leapt and ran.

  Morgan stubbed out the cigarette as she listened to the muffled voices in the distance greeting each other. Kitty was exuberant, her first trip to the club since Mouse’s departure to be tomorrow, her reward for her dutiful service. Morgan stood, closed the sliding door and smiled at her five o’clock.

  “How’d it go this week?” she asked.

  Openly, Dan stared a moment. “Let me ask you something. For people with my kind of problems, shouldn’t you be really ugly or something worse?”

  Easily, she laughed, flattered that his premature ejaculation problem was only exacerbated by her beauty. “Take your clothes off,” she said dryly and went for the oil.

  * * * *

  Thirty minutes later, his entire body was completely limp due to the deep massage. She removed the blindfold and the three condoms and put a pillow under his head so he could watch. So he could better concentrate on the stimulation and resist it rather than succumb to it.

  Her fingers slid only part way up the shaft. Her other hand cradled his balls. Slowly, she closed her hand on the penis and very lightly swept up the entire length.

  Much better, she thought. A few months ago that was all the stimulation he required. Already, he could hold out longer, enjoy the ride rather than the arrival.

  She closed her hand a little tighter, took five strokes in perfect rhythm and then loosened her grip, allowed it to breathe, dug her fingernails into the soft flesh behind the scrotum to cause a little distraction before she started again.

  Much, much better. Easily, she dragged that play into twenty minutes. When finally his hand clutched to the bars at the side of the table, she stroked him hard this time rather than let him spill unaided and unsatisfied. She rode it all the way to the end, holding it for him, gently caressing it rather than merely dropping it.

  “Much better,” she said softly. Wiping her hand on a towel and then laying a fresh one, moist and heated over his penis, she said approvingly, “You’ve been practicing.”

  “Yes, I have. And last night, my wife watched.”

  “Did she?” Morgan asked ecstatic at his progress. “Did she rub those big beautiful tits of hers all over you like I told her?”

  “And her pussy,” he gasped. “And then she rubbed her slimy hand all over my balls, damnit. So when am I gonna be allowed to have her, finally?”

  Morgan smiled. “Bring her with you next week.”

  “She’s probably in the car beating off now. Never met a woman with her kind of passion,” he said smiling with gratitude.

  Morgan glanced at the clock. “She’s downstairs now?”

  “Yeah, we’re going to dinner tonight.”

  “Call her, I’ve got time for a quickie,” she said.

  He leapt off the table and went for the phone. Morgan heard a shrill yelp through it. Only a few minutes later, the door opened.

  “Your old man tells me you’re so horny you can’t help yourself,” Morgan said smiling.

  Caroline Gregory shrugged. “He’s just too damned cute.”

  Morgan knew all about cute. Knew all about middle-aged women and the young studs ten and twelve years younger that lived to please them. “Get over here,” Morgan commanded.

  Caroline’s clothes were shed on the way to the table and she lay down, ready to be pleasured.

  Morgan took his hand and filled it full of oil to place him at a breast. She went to the other, a little instruction at erotic massage. The idea was to get her off a couple of times before he even got involved.

  Noticing that he went straight for his desire, Morgan instructed, “She just lay down, don’t go straight for the nipple yet. Make her want it.” In both hands Morgan held that mass and gently kneaded it, completely ignoring the nipple. “Make her beg for it.” Her hand slid over the soft skin between them to the chest. Gently, it pressed against the muscles in her neck and then over her shoulders. She grabbed his hand away from that breast and pushed it lower to stroke the abdomen, yet he went further still to her mound.

  “Damnit,” Morgan whispered. “Total body orgasm, honey. You’ve been getting one every week for two months,” she rasped. “She’s only had two. Pay attention.” Her fingers gently swirled around Caroline’s heated breasts and felt them already swelling in anticipation.

  “Right.” He was intent on his wife’s pleasure and so very grateful that his wife put up with him.

  He took the flesh of her thigh and kneaded it softly. And then he noted that Morgan didn’t exactly massage her. Morgan merely stimulated her, the tips of Morgan’s fingers, the nails lightly dragging over the surface, causing a quivering underneath. Only when his wife began to moan plaintively did Morgan grasp the breasts in both hands and roll the nipples between her fingers, enough stimulation there to cause the legs to open and beg for more.

  Astonished, he looked at Morgan.

  Morgan only smiled. She would forever be surprised about how little men knew about women. But for the few she could get her hands on that wanted to learn, she was grateful.

  She pushed him away and directed him to the head of
the table. While Morgan worked, the couple merely stared at each other, grinning like horny teenagers, wanting so desperately to touch each other but not allowed, or so they thought.

  “Do you love your wife?” Morgan asked softly.

  “Desperately,” he gasped.

  “Then kiss her,” Morgan instructed.

  His arms wrapped tightly around Caroline’s upper body and his tongue drove into her mouth as she clutched to him.

  Morgan went to the inner thighs laid open and softly stroked there. A nail drew over the soft satin of those lips, boiling with the anticipation she had created. Gently, she slid into the vagina an inch or two, the responsive lurch in the hips begging for more.

  While he groped a breast, his tongue still driven into her mouth, Morgan folded the table down, the better for him to get to her. She grabbed a small phallus, slid it into Caroline and began a rhythm.

  But this was an uninhibited woman. Morgan’s kind of woman. Caroline’s hand slid between her legs to stroke her own clit now, while Morgan maintained a slow rhythm to get her rocking.

  Her breath faster now, Morgan grasped Caroline’s hand and held it away, the better to feel Morgan. Morgan removed the phallus from the vagina and ticked the anus with it. Caroline gasped so that Dan rose up, the better to watch Morgan. He peered between his wife’s legs to see it disappear. Only then, did Morgan release Caroline’s hand to allow her to stroke herself again.

  “Gently,” Morgan breathed. She released the phallus and its rhythm to him while she returned to Caroline’s breasts. Knowingly, she smiled as Caroline pursed her lips in gratitude for Morgan’s instruction. But this was a woman who didn’t need Morgan, yet probably sat with her hand between her legs while her husband recounted his encounters with Morgan.

  “She’s about to come,” Morgan breathed. “Get into her, but don’t move...and don’t come. Don’t you dare let go of it.”

  Curiously, he only shook his head and slid a finger in, although his penis was more than ready to go again.

  Morgan continued to rub gently and feel the rhythmic contractions of an orgasm in Caroline. “Okay, Baby?” Morgan chirped.

  “Ohh, yeah,” Caroline breathed quite sincerely. “Can you teach him to do that?”

  “Absolutely, roll over,” she commanded.

  Quickly, Caroline rolled, her feet to the floor, her upper body laid over the table. Morgan took his chin and forced his attention to her. “You’re thirty, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Had the premature ejaculation thing going since the beginning and women never hung around long because they weren’t satisfied by you...right?”

  “We talked about this.” He was instantly defensive that she would bring this up now, especially in front of his wife.

  “Okay,” Morgan said to disarm him. Her hand lay on Caroline’s bottom. “But the point is, you don’t have a lot of experience and what you do have had hasn’t been the most satisfying, has it?”

  He shrugged, so embarrassed that she would do this in front of his wife.

  “So you two knew each other a whole three months before you got married, haven’t been married a year yet and you haven’t had enough time with each other to know for sure what turns you both on. But your wife enjoys anal intercourse.”

  Curiously, he stared for a moment. “How could you know that already?”

  “I’m a sex therapist. This is...the third time I’ve been with her. I know exactly what turns her on.” She grasped his still-oily finger and held it to the orifice.

  “That hurts, doesn’t it?”

  “Not if you do it right,” Morgan said surely.

  Yet he was reticent, knew from personal experience it would hurt.

  Gently, Morgan patted her bottom to allow her to get up. She turned, a little disappointed with a pout on her face.

  “I guess you two want to take the graduate course, huh?”

  “Absolutely,” Caroline said a little giddy.

  “All the way to...?” Morgan asked.

  “Ph.D.,” she mewed.

  Morgan laughed as she fondly stroked Caroline’s jawline. She glanced at Dan, watching intently, excited beyond repair. And then she returned to Caroline’s fluttering green eyes. “We know for a fact you’re submissive as hell, sitting in the car waiting for him to get off.”

  Dan perked to the very word, his lips parted, his tongue exposed. “Her?” he cried.

  “Your wife wants to be possessed by you, my friend. Yeah, she’ll sit in the car for two hours thinking about nothing but what you’re doing with your therapist. Wait here.”

  “Honey?” he rasped as he looked down on his wife.

  “Is it a problem, Sugar?”

  “Uhh...not really.”

  “You’re sure?”

  Just then Morgan returned, her hands full of things from the toybox. She snarled at Caroline to lay back, spread her legs and stay painfully quiet and still. Amazed, he peered at Morgan.

  Morgan opened the box of a new chastity belt and started, “She needs to know you’re with her even when you’re not with her. Even when you are with her, she needs to feel you like no one around you can guess. You see what this is...” Morgan spoke of the large phallus, the smaller phallus and a small metal plate to stroke the clit. “You can create as much or as little stimulation with this as you want with the remote control.”

  “How much distance does this thing have?” he asked excitedly.

  “About twenty feet. For instance, you’re going to a restaurant tonight and you may decide to give her a little kiss, but you don’t want to be kissing everyone in the room.”

  His eyes flared and a delighted laughter filled the room.

  “You put it on, you take it off. If she needs to go to the ladies’ room, she must ask your permission to disturb it and for only that reason.”

  “Alright,” he said. Swelled with the feel of this, he took the contraption from Morgan and began to fill the vagina. Quite carefully and properly, he inserted the other and then drew the strap between her legs and locked them. Quite thoughtfully, he stood back and inspected it.

  “So you approve?” Morgan asked.

  “Very much.”

  From her pocket, Morgan retrieved a pair of nipple nails.

  “What the hell is that?”

  “Not nearly as painful as you might think,” she said surely. “Make sure her nipples are as engorged as possible, place the point to the very center of the nipple and press down for about three seconds. It’ll hold.”

  “What’s the point?”

  “Every time she moves, she’ll be reminded of you. Every time you draw her close, she’ll be even more reminded when you pull her breasts to your chest. And when you remove them with fingernail polish remover, she’ll howl like a cat in heat because that does hurt, but only for a second.”

  He approached the breasts as if they belonged to him now.

  “Hold ‘em up there,” Morgan commanded.

  Quickly, Caroline grasped them and forced them into peaks of creamy meringue. He held the first steady and then drove it deep, listening contentedly as her breath escaped. The second was done as quickly and he pressed his thumbs to them, staring into her vivid adoring eyes.

  “Tell her to walk around and then try a sitting position.”

  “Get up, Baby,” he said as he grasped her hand. With his undivided attention on his wife, he watched her hips sway, her huge breasts quiver on her chest as she moved around the room. Reveling in the feel of this new command, he ordered, “Bend over.”

  She spread her legs yet kept them painfully straight and bent at the hips allowing him to inspect her. “She’s beautiful.”

  “Yes, she is,” Morgan whispered. “But you keep up with the exercises I gave you and no intercourse,” she reminded. “Bring her with you next week because I think you’re pretty well finished with me on your original complaint.”

  “Really?”

  “Almost. So tell her to get dressed and go back to the ca
r and wait for you there. We need a few more minutes.”

  At the sound of Morgan’s voice, Caroline ran for her clothes.

  “Hold up, baby,” Morgan ordered. “He’s your Master now. You don’t do what just anybody tells you to do.”

  Chagrined, Caroline stood dutifully by her husband.

  “Put your clothes on and wait for me in the lobby,” he commanded.

  The bra, a sweet little sundress and shoes. Quite coyly, she handed her panties to him. She winked at Morgan and danced to the door.

  Holding her panties as if they were a sacred relic ready to bestow something supernatural upon him, he declared, “I’ve never seen her like that.”

  “You’ve got a lot to look forward to. But don’t let her pressure you,” Morgan said reassuringly. “If she’s beside herself, have her masturbate for you, but don’t let her pressure you.”

  “Okay.”

  “And because I still want you to remember me and not get lost in her quite yet...” From a pocket she pulled a length of leather. She laid it over his penis and then wrapped it around the scrotum to divide the testicles. Quite loosely, she crisscrossed it over the penis to the end and back only to tie it in a half hitch, easily loosed, not at all binding.

  “I like that. ”

  “I’ll teach you everything you need to know to keep her interested for a very long time.”

  “I’d like that, too,” he said gratefully. “But uhh...what is it about older women?”

  Easily Morgan smiled. “Older women know what they want. More emotionally stable than younger women. The decision of motherhood is established in the kids at home or college, or the birth control in the medicine cabinet. Sometimes older women are just happy for the attention. And sometimes older women have a lot more energy than the men their age and want somebody young and cute like you to keep up with them. And you beautiful young stallions just want to romp with someone whose body clock isn’t ticking. Just throbbing,” she added with a laugh.

  “Right,” he said nodding thoughtfully. “She’s a hell of a woman. Did I tell you she can cook? My old girlfriend threw some shit in a microwave or sent me out for take-out. And hell, I figured on going to Europe this summer. She wants to go to New England in the fall and get laid in a freshly mowed field by an old stone farmhouse. Talented and inexpensive. God, I love that woman.”