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02
It was another week before I saw her again, this time it was a sunny Saturday and, having finished work at midday as I always did at the weekend, I was only planning to pop home and change before heading off to watch the footie. Once again there was no lift, but this time it was because the painters were in! It was hardly likely to get shabby; no one ever had a chance to use it!
Miss, in my mind she was always that now, was climbing the stairs, her hands full of stretched and straining supermarket carrier bags and I rushed up, cleared my throat and, ignoring my nervousness, spoke to her.
“Hi, can I carry those for you?”
Turning just slightly I was rewarded first with a frown but then a smile.
“Oh, thank you, that would be wonderful.”
I took over, carefully making sure that none of the handles were unsupported, and followed her, slowly, to her front door.
“Could you put them into the kitchen for me?” She indicated with her hand and I was about to say I knew where to go as all the flats were the same when I realized they weren’t, hers was far more luxurious than mine.
“Of course, it’s no problem, Miss.” I don’t know why I added the term of respect out loud but it seemed so natural to do so and I didn’t really think about it until it was too late and I saw a momentary puzzled look on her face.
“Would you like a cup of tea, or a cold drink? You were a lifesaver, some of those bags are heavy, but I just couldn’t face more than one journey up those dreadful stairs.”
“Thank you, a cold drink would be lovely.” I looked at her and smiled; what I really wanted was to get the refreshments myself, have her sit and me fetch, but that wasn’t possible, at least not yet.
“My name is Susan, why don’t you sit down in the lounge and I’ll get the drinks?” She turned as she spoke, walking away from me, her legs tanned in white denim shorts and a pair of deck shoes. Her top was red, quite tight; I could see the outline of the straps of her bra through it and had to avert my eyes so that my arousal wouldn’t become obvious.
Her lounge was quite sumptuous, although understated; a deep and welcoming coffee coloured velour sofa with a pair of matching chairs commanded the outside wall. The floors were wooden, parquet, just as we’d had at home, and there was a thick pile rug with a glass occasional table on it to complete the seating area. I perched myself on the corner of one of the chairs, glad I had worked in the office rather than the yard all morning, and continued to look around, trying to concentrate on anything but my hostess in the vain hope that when she returned my dick wouldn’t make its presence felt once again.
“Here we go, oh, silly, you needn’t get up.” I had risen to my feet as soon as I saw her, and although she told me not to, I could tell she was flattered.
“Now, you didn’t tell me your name, did you?”
“No, no, I didn’t, it’s Martin, Miss.”
“Well hi, Martin, I’m pleased to meet you properly at last.”
“Thank you.” I looked down, wanting to look her in the eye, at least for a moment, but unable to because of all the training I had received.
“Martin.” The one word was of a slightly different tone and this time I did look up.
“Yes, Miss?”
“Are you frightened of me?”
“Oh, no, not at all.” Suddenly I was afraid, not of her, but of myself, had I blown it? Was I now to be thrown out because of my attitude?
“I see, I just wondered. Why do you call me miss then? Is it because I am so much older than you?”
Now I wasn’t afraid, but horrified, I had insulted her, when all I wanted to do was offer my respect.
“No, I … I’d better go, I’m so sorry, Miss, really, really sorry.” I wanted to cry and my voice was definitely wavering as I tried to get to my feet.
“Martin.” Again she said my name, this time softer, with more concern, and then I felt her hand on my arm. “Stay still.”
I did as I was told; there was nothing else I could do. When a woman, especially a beautiful and sexy woman like Miss Susan, gave me instructions I was powerless to refuse.
“Why don’t you sit back and tell me a little about yourself? Maybe you will relax while you are doing so and then, when you are really ready to leave, I won’t stop you.”
I nodded, words didn’t seem to be making their way from my brain to my mouth and so, in mute obedience, I plonked myself, a little further back than before, onto the big squishy chair and let it eat me.
~*~
For the next half an hour or so I did talk, not continually, Miss Susan asked the odd question, she even volunteered a little information about her own life, and gradually I calmed down, stopped sweating, I even relaxed enough to smile and unclasp my hands from in my lap.
“I … I think I should leave now, I’m sorry if I’ve upset your plans for the afternoon.”
“It is me who should be apologising, but I think that may bring back all your insecurities, so instead I will say it has been a pleasure to meet you and I hope we can renew our acquaintance again very soon.”
I just nodded, amazed she was even prepared to see me out, let alone talk with me again. When I got to the door I turned back to her, and carried my amazement to new levels when I spoke.
“I’m a pretty good cook, I could prepare a meal for you one night if you would like.”
Her face beamed, she nodded her head and then placed her hand over mine.
“That sounds like a marvellous idea, what day did you have in mind?”
“Umm, tomorrow? Or Monday? I don’t work Mondays.”
“Tomorrow. Let’s do it tomorrow. Why don’t you come here and cook? I have all sorts of gadgets and things that never get used on anything more than individual meals, it would be fun to see what you could do with them.”
After arranging to meet again at four the following afternoon for a meal at six I walked as calmly as I could until I knew I was out of sight and then belted up the stairs, in through my own front door and straight to the bedroom. I knelt by the bed and pushing down my work trousers began to pull on my hard cock, taking myself so close to the edge that I nearly exploded instead of holding back.
Four times I took myself to the limit and each time I begged Miss Susan to let me cum, and each time I heard her refuse me. Finally, when the strain was too much, I kept pumping, moving my hand with measured strokes, until my cum shot out of me and onto the covers, not once or twice, but in five long white bolts. I lowered my forehead to the bed, resting it in the closest pool of spunk and closed my eyes, whatever else happened for now I was in heaven.
~*~
I pored over my cookery books that night, wondering what I could make that wouldn’t look as if I were showing off, but would give her an idea of my culinary skills. In the end, remembering I had seen some curry powder and a chicken amongst her shopping, I decided to do an Indian meal, with naan bread and make it a medium heat.
I tossed and turned in bed all night, my dreams were full of her either eating the meal and then showering me with kisses or laughing in my face and ordering me out of her home. In the end, at six on Sunday morning, I got up, had a shower and decided to go for a run to try and clear my head. Jogging wasn’t quite as popular a pastime as it is now, and at that time of day I was the only one in the local park apart from energetic dog walkers. I pushed myself to the limit; doing short bursts of speed, long more steadily paced work and then a set of demanding stretches to finish with. My job at the builders’ merchants had certainly begun to toughen me up, already I could notice a difference, and whereas six months earlier I had been pure wimp now I was just wimp. I determined that never again would I be the type of man who had sand kicked in his face, but I had no intention of doing the kicking either.
I went back to my flat, had another shower and breakfast and then made my way into town to get a few necessities. There weren’t as many shops open on a Sunday as there are now, but I managed to find everything I wanted in the ones that were. It was only a little after twelve when I returned home again and was at a loss for something to do. In the end I called my sisters, Miss Fiona and Miss Martha had a flat together on the opposite side of town, and chatted with them for a while, not going into great detail about my plans for the rest of the day, but assuring them I was behaving in a manner befitting my station.
By the time it was almost four o’clock I was so nervous I thought I might pass out. I had no idea why I was this way, other than somewhere deep inside me I knew I would serve her in any way she wanted. I also had a feeling she knew that too.
Making my way down the stairs and towards her flat a feeling of calm seemed to descend over me and when she opened her door I was able to smile and accept her invitation to enter without making a total gibbering fool of myself.
“Martin, you are prompt, I like that. Put your things in the kitchen and then we can talk for a little while before you begin.” Miss Susan didn’t have to direct me this time and I carefully put all my different bits and bobs down on one of the work surfaces before returning to where she stood in the front hallway.
“Now, I know I don’t like to be disturbed while I am cooking so you won’t be either. If you need anything though just give a yell.”
“Yes, Miss Su…” I paused, not sure if I should use her name and in the end deciding I wouldn’t until given permission to do so. “Yes, Miss, and thank you for giving me the opportunity to do this for you.”
“My sweet boy, it is my pleasure. Now, go, I will be in the lounge reading if you need anything, oh, and could you bring me in a glass of white wine?”
“Of course, Miss, right away.” I beamed; there was something I could do for her immediately.
Once I had made sure Miss Susan was comfortable I returned to the kitchen and began my preparations. As I did so my heart began to sink, just a little. There were all sorts of gadgets and equipment, some of which I had lusted after in my mother’s catalogues at home, and they had all obviously been used quite extensively. Miss Susan, it seemed, was a dedicated cook, just as I was. I only hoped she wouldn’t be disappointed.
I had just begun to make the final adjustments before cooking started when there was a light tap on the door and she was standing there.
“I don’t like to intrude, but how are you going?” She smiled at me, her blue eyes shining as she did so and I felt a stirring deep within.
“I’ll be about another half an hour, if that is acceptable for you.”
“That sounds just right, I will go and have a bath and get myself ready, I have to say it all smells wonderful.”
“Would you like me to call you five minutes before I am ready to dish up, Miss Su …, and can I get you another glass of wine to take with you?” I caught myself again, not wanting to spoil what had happened so far by my impertinence.
“Yes please to both questions, this is turning into a lovely afternoon and evening, thank you, Martin.”
I felt myself blush and hurried to busy myself with refilling her glass, which I handed to her without a word, not trusting my voice to come out strongly enough to hide my feelings.
~*~
The actual meal passed in a blur, I remember dishing it up, I remember holding her chair for her as she sat down, I remember hoping her meal didn’t taste like cardboard even though mine did, but conversation, actions, how long it took, none of those have stuck in my mind. The way Miss Susan looked has though, and even now, fifteen years later, I can still recall the light blue dress with the softly folding neck line, the way her hair was held back in clips but fell over her shoulders in soft waves, the sandals, also blue, with high heels and bare toes showing just a hint of a pink varnish on them. All of that I carry with me to this day, a memory so special I know it will never fade, never leave me.
~*~
When I brought the coffee to the table and had sat once again Miss Susan put a hand over mine.
“I think we need to talk, I hope it won’t spoil a wonderful evening, but I think it may even enhance it.”
I didn’t look up, not fully; I just glanced at her through my lashes and nodded my head.
“Yes, Miss Susan.”
“I think you have wanted to call me that all afternoon, haven’t you?”
I nodded, it had slipped out but, even if I never got to call her by that name again, the powerful feeling doing it just the once gave me was an undeniable aphrodisiac and I felt myself stirring beneath the table.
“If I asked you to kneel at my feet would you do it?” Her tone was still light but there was a seriousness there that couldn’t be denied.
“Oh yes, Miss Susan.” I saw her indicate with her hand and in a second I was on the floor, my hands behind my back, head bowed, waiting for her next command.
“Sit up on the chair again, for the moment I would rather look across at you than down.” Again I obeyed instantly putting my hands in my lap, hoping to hide how affected I was by her words.
“Martin, are you a submissive?”
“Pardon, Miss Susan, a what?” Now, looking back, I realize how naïve I was, but at the time her question really did confuse me.
“A submissive, my sweet boy, someone who lives to do the bidding of others, whatever it may be, both ordinarily and sexually.”
“Then yes, Miss Susan, I think I am. My … my sisters were always in charge at home, I did what they told me to … I was …” my voice faded away, to say anything more would be to reveal a secret I had kept all my life, but especially in the last three years.
“You were what? If we are to have this discussion I expect total honesty from you, is that understood?” Her voice, I noticed, had changed a little. She was still polite, still gracious, but there was a authority there that told me she expected me to do as I was told.
“Yes, Miss Susan, I understand.”
“Then continue with what you were going to say.”
“If I disappointed my sisters, or didn’t do as I was instructed, they punished me. Sometimes I was spanked, but also they used to stop me from … from playing with myself. Or they would order me to play and then forbid me from cumming, Miss Susan.” I wanted to die, I felt so humiliated, but there was an excitement as well, my cock was moving in my pants as it grew and my breathing was getting heavier. I ventured a glance across the table and I could see that my words were affecting my hostess as well.
“Stand up, Martin, hands behind your back.”
“Yes, Miss Susan.” I stood there, my trousers now tented for her to see and I shifted a little to try and accommodate my increasing size a bit more comfortably.
“Touch yourself, run your hand up and down your penis through your trousers, show me how you would do that.”
Without a word my hand shot to my dick, I grasped it through the material and began to pump my fingers up and down until I had to use my free hand to hold on to the table so excited and so close was I to cumming.
“That is enough.” Immediately I stopped although the disappointment I felt was the greatest I could remember and I inadvertently let out a groan of misery.
“That is enough, I want you to take everything through to the kitchen, load up the dishwasher and make sure the room is tidy. Once that is done you will find me in the lounge. I expect you to come in silently and, if you wish this to continue, you will remove your clothes and kneel before me. If, on the other hand, you want our friendship to remain just that, you will stand before me, fully dressed and we will resume our previous relationship, is that clear?”
“Yes, Miss Susan.” My voice was husky with arousal and I longed to touch myself once more.
“You will keep your hands above your waist at all times, except to put dishes away, if you don’t then that too will end this relationship.”
There was no need to answer, I had been dismissed and we went our separate ways, Miss Susan, picking up a magazine as she did so, headed for the lounge, while I, with a coffee cup in each hand, walked backwards through the kitchen door and began to tidy up.
~*~
Thankfully, I had become tidier over the years and in no more than ten minutes I was back in the lounge carefully removing my clothes and folding them neatly on the floor. I then assumed the position Miss Susan had requested of me, my cock now sticking out at full attention and desperate to be touched.
“Very well, I see you wish to continue with our discussion of earlier. I have to say I am very pleased and not at all surprised. I have had a feeling ever since we first talked that you needed this type of relationship and I find myself responding far better when I can be the dominant partner.”
“Yes, Miss Susan, so we are submissive and dominant, is that right?”
“You are correct, my little one, normally you would be punished for speaking out of turn, however, you are also very new to this lifestyle and so, for a while at least, I will be lenient with you.”
She placed her finger under my chin and raised my face so I could see into her eyes. Once she had done that she moved her hand and the same finger was placed over my lips, telling me to keep quiet.
“You will tell me what turns you on, gets you excited. If you are completely truthful about this then I will gradually remove my own clothing, if I think you are either lying or being economical with the truth I will stop.”
Gradually I began to speak, I told her how my sisters had bent me over a chair and spanked my bottom, how they had sometimes twisted my balls until I was crying, and about the begging outside their rooms in the dark, desperately promising them anything they wanted if only I could cum.
Miss Susan listened, for a while she said nothing, encouraging me with a smile or a touch of the hand, and I continued, moving on to when Miss Fiona had shown me her body, how I had begged to see her breasts, and how, gradually, they had instructed me in how to make love to a woman, but only through touch. I had never been allowed to enter them; somehow all three of us thought that was a step too far.
“So, you are still a virgin?”
“Yes, Miss Susan, that’s true.” By now she was down to just her bra and knickers, both of them a slightly paler blue than her dress and underskirt which she had folded and put on the sofa next to her. I was captivated by the way her breasts were pushed together by the lace, how her nipples darkened the material just enough for me to see where they were and I felt my cock get even harder as I imagined my tongue reaching out to lick her, my fingers to touch and embrace her and I heard another moan leave my lips.
“I want you to remove my knickers for me and then you can show me what it was your sisters taught you. If you are a good boy I will remove my bra, and I will let you play with my breasts.” Miss Susan stood before me and, with shaking hands, I carefully pulled the pale and lacy slip of material down her legs and onto the floor. The high sandals were still on her feet and she stepped elegantly out of her panties and then sat back on the sofa, her legs wide apart and her treasures glistening and waiting for me.
In the time I had spent under instruction from Miss Fiona and Miss Martha I had learnt a lot about what a woman likes to have done to her. Now though I was more nervous than I had ever been and for a moment I know it showed. Tentatively I ran my tongue across her labia, the taste was so different, but like honey, so wonderful that I wanted more of it and again my tongue made its way across her soft flesh. I heard her mumble something but as it didn’t seem to be disapproving I continued, gently laying my hands on her thighs as my tongue, flattened out, gradually licked every surface.
“Mmm, show me more, Martin, show me how talented you are.”
I rolled my tongue and began teasing her; I could feel the smooth edges of her warm dark slit and the juices flowing from it. I sucked on them, I used my tongue like a straw, and then I began to fuck her with it, darting into her, feeling her body tighten around me as her breathing became deeper, and her hands held my hair, almost pushing me inside of her and I waited for her to relax a moment before taking my chance and moving out and sucking her clitoris into my mouth, nipping it, licking it, and then letting go.
“Oh, God, don’t stop, do that again.” Of course I did. It was firmer now, easier to bite, easier to tease this way and then I began to lick her again, only this time I dipped deep inside of her as I went in one direction and then sucked her into me on the return journey. Her swollen lips were so soft it was almost perfection, she began to moan more loudly, and her breathing became ragged.
“Fuck me, Martin, fuck me with your tongue, oh, God, now, now!” In and out I went, the juices coating my face, sliding over my tongue as I moved her closer and closer to a climax and then, suddenly I felt her move again.
“I’m cumming, ohhhh, yes, Ohhhhhh, now!” Her whole body arched up from the sofa, her hands tangled in my hair, pulling on me, and as she cried out I felt her flood into my mouth, over and over as her spasms pushed more cum out of her and into me before she collapsed back down, letting go of everything and lying breathless before me.
It was only when I raised my head that I saw she had pulled her breasts free from her bra. The dark areolas were tight and puckered and the nipples long and bruised looking from the treatment she had given them. I knew now wasn’t the time to touch them, she would be coming down from her high and so I sat back on my heels, wanting to do nothing more than wank myself off, but instead waiting for whatever instruction came next.
~*~
Finally, after about five minutes, during which time I heard her breathing gradually calm and saw her muscles relax, she looked up at me.
“Thank you, my sweet boy, that was wonderful. Now, I want you to show me how you play with yourself, I want to see exactly what you do.”
Nodding my head and feeling a blush rise up my face I reached down and grabbed hold of my swollen and pulsating member. It felt hot in my hand and I could see the pre-cum on the top so I caught it with my fingers and used it as lubrication, enjoying the feeling of the liquid as it eased my journey down to my balls and back up again.
As I continued, feeling the excitement my movements caused, Miss Susan told me to look at her and, without missing a beat, I did as I was told. Her bra had disappeared and she was sitting on the edge of the sofa. As I watched she pulled on her nipples, and rubbed her pussy as I felt myself near the point of no return.
“Please, Miss Susan, can I cum, please?”
“No, my sweet boy, you may not. It has only been a minute or two, you aren’t allowed to cum for at least another ten.”
“Oh, please, Miss Susan, please, I can’t wait that long, what you are doing, your tits, they are … ohhhh, please.” My hand was getting faster; I was so close.
“Put your hands behind your head … now!” I had pumped one more time after her instruction and she sounded furious. “Are you so selfish that you would disobey me for your own pleasure?”
“No, Miss Susan, please forgive me.”
This was all moving so fast, I had started out by cooking her a meal, then she had discovered my secret, instructed me on how things were to proceed, and now I was cringing at her tone as she forbade me to cum.
“Put your hand around your testicles and then squeeze them, as your sisters used to do.”
Again, immediately, I complied, my hand causing me pain I knew I wouldn’t be able to minimize just because it was self-inflicted.
“They don’t look red enough to me, squeeze harder.” Miss Susan had got off the sofa and was now kneeling right in front of me, her breasts so close I could see them raise up and down as she breathed, so near that if she had leant just a centimetre closer they would have touched me, and that raised the torture level even higher as I gripped tighter, feeling the blood flow being constricted as they began to throb.
“Do you wish to continue?” Miss Susan touched my cheek with her hand, a look of concern mingled with the excitement I could see in her eyes.
“Yes, Miss Susan, please, I don’t want to stop.”
“If you do, at any time, you must say ‘rhubarb’ otherwise I will ignore you. That will be our safe word.”
I nodded, I had no idea what a safe word was, all I knew was even through the pain I was so excited, so turned on, I could, if instructed, shoot my load within seconds of touching my penis again.
Moving her hand forward she grabbed my balls just behind where I was holding them, pulling them further away from my body and increasing the pain into an agony.
“Play with yourself again, I promise you, you won’t be able to cum.”
As I began once more Miss Susan placed the thumb and forefinger of her other hand at the base of my penis, she pressed tightly and I realized, with a rush of adrenalin, that until she released me I was truly in her power.
I speeded up, the knowledge of what she was doing spurring me on until, even with her pressure on my shaft, I knew I was very close. So did she apparently because again I was ordered to stop.
“No, please. Please, Miss Susan, it’s too hard, I need to cum. I won’t touch myself all week, I’ll clean your house, your car, please, Miss Susan, I’ll lick your pussy, I’ll make you cum over and over, but please let me touch myself again, I need it so much.”
“Stand up, put your hands together behind your back and spread your legs apart.” The words were almost barked and I was on my feet in no time.
“Do you want to be able to visit with me, to play with me? To see my body?”
“Yes, Miss Susan, more than anything.”
“More even than your need to cum?”
“I … I … no, Miss Susan.” I almost sobbed out my answer and couldn’t look at her, so didn’t see her stand and move towards me until she reached out and grabbed both my nipples, pulling them and twisting them at the same time.
“Arghhh, please, no, Miss Susan, I won’t cum, I’ll play with you instead, please, I’m sorry I gave the wrong answer.”
“Hold them, just as I am.” I did as I was told, taking over my own torture once again, and then watched in horror as Miss Susan left the room. I had tears in my eyes, not from the pain but the solitude, even though it lasted but a minute.
In Miss Susan’s hands she was holding something but I couldn’t see what. She took over the pinching and pulling of my left nipple and then I screamed out with pain as a clothes peg was clipped onto it. I had never felt anything like it, I wanted to drop to the floor, to roll up in a ball, but I could do neither, and then the action was repeated, both nipples now hurt, pulsed, burned, and I was amazed to find that instead of my cock deflating it was, if anything, even harder than before.
“Well, well, you do like the pain, don’t you, my sweet boy?”
“Yes … yes, I do, Miss Susan. Arghhh.” She swiped her hand across the pegs, causing them to pull and pinch even more than before and then, to my horror, she produced one more peg, which she attached to my ball sack, and this time I couldn’t stop myself from collapsing in agony.
I wasn’t sure why, but as I lay there I was sure the pain began to recede. I looked up; my vision blurred a little by the tears, and wondered if I could cope with all of this. Although nowadays I know the pain was mild, and I have suffered far more than this, it worked because I was totally unused to it. At the time though I wondered how I could gradually be in less pain, how I could still have an erection, whether I would be permitted to remove them before I got dressed, but there, amongst all those thoughts was the longing to cum, still pressing, still urgent, still my most fervent desire.
“You may stand back up now, you have spent enough time lazing on the carpet.”
“Yes, Miss Susan.” I complied, what else was I to do? What was happening was painful, but it was wonderful too, and I didn’t want it to end, not just yet, so that meant getting to my feet and starting over.
“You may play with yourself again, you are not allowed to cum, and you must rub your penis twenty-five times.”
“Yes, Miss Susan.” I began, each stroke pulled at the peg behind my cock, each arm movement reminded me of the pain in my chest, and still I was excited, still I throbbed and needed release.
“How many is that?”
“Fifteen, Miss Susan.” I was counting, the number didn’t seem to be getting any closer to twenty-five, but I was still counting.
“Hmm, move a little faster, a little firmer now, if you please.”
I knew it wasn’t my pleasure I was aiming for but said nothing, instead I did increase the speed and then the feeling inside began to increase as well and I was once again hurtling towards my climax.
“Miss Susan.” I could say nothing else, this would be the third denied climax, I couldn’t take more than four without losing the plot, and it had been so long since I had been ordered by someone to stop that I didn’t think I could stand three either.
Miss Susan leant forward and removed the two pegs from my nipples. She didn’t unclip them, but instead pulled them off, for a second all was fine, but then the pain started and even in my aroused state I had to lift my hands to hold them, to protect them from the agony which coursed through my chest, and then she did the same with my balls, the fire raced through me and I couldn’t help myself, my spunk shot out of my cock, it pulsed out onto the floor, once, twice, three times, and each time I cried out, in anguish and ecstasy, before I fell, twitching at her feet, my bones reduced to jelly and my brain to mush.
~*~
I was so overcome by everything that had happened to me in such a short while that I broke down at Miss Susan’s feet, sobbing helplessly, and then she was there beside me, taking me into her arms, holding my heaving body against her own as gradually, over a minute or two, I began to calm myself once more.
“There, my sweet boy, you did so well for your first time. In fact I think I may reward you.”
I looked up, my young, tear stained face must have been a pathetic sight but she gave no indication of it. Instead she caught a tear on her finger and then licked it off before moving a little closer and placing her lips over my own for our first kiss.
It was so sweet, but so overwhelming that once again all I could do was lean against her as her tongue gently toyed with my own, I felt her investigating, moving into my mouth and then dancing around, so tenderly, so lightly that I groaned and responded in kind.
“Thank you, Miss Susan, that was lovely.” I spoke as our kiss ended and for a moment she looked a little nonplussed. “My reward, it was lovely, thank you.”
Miss Susan laughed, it was a young, free laugh, one that floated around me and lifted me.
“Oh, my sweet but silly boy, that wasn’t your reward, that was a kiss between lovers, a kiss to share and savour. Your reward, if you still want it, is to stay, to sleep in my bed with me tonight.”
I was speechless, I had never been offered such a treasure before and all I could do was nod, fervently, in the hope that she would understand.
“Very well, first though, I think you need to crawl over and clean up my floor. I can’t have that mess left overnight.”
“Yes, Miss Susan.” I moved, gingerly, towards the trail of cum I had spread over her floorboards and lowered my head. I had always felt totally humiliated, licking up my own spunk, and now was no different. It had grown cold and stringy, clinging to my tongue and the floor like white glue, but gradually, with the remaining tremors from my orgasm still occasionally pulsating through me, I managed to swallow my load down before looking back towards the beautiful legs of Miss Susan.
Carefully, with a smile of approval for my actions, Miss Susan helped me to my feet, my legs still didn’t have the strength to carry me on their own, and we walked, together, towards her bedroom.
TBC
My email address is incorrect on
my personal page. I would love to hear comments from anyone who reads this, but
at milliemoons@hotmail.co.uk please.
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