Tuesday, June 22, 2010
It has been an eye opening and exciting six months. I feel like a different woman. I feel wiser, sexier and more in touch with whom I am. For years I have known S in an intense but sporadic way. He kept his life mostly to himself and would call me for dates when he came to town from time to time. On one of these visits we sat in the lobby of a trendy new boutique hotel downtown sharing a bottle of wine when he cleared his throat, shifted in his chair and leaned in toward me to speak “Listen Mia, I have been thinking…” I guess that is where it all began.
S and I had a mutually beneficial relationship. I felt like this was one of the most honest relationships I have ever had. He called; we went out, had good wine and good food and fucked. He bought me gifts, took me on vacations, and on occasion surprised me with envelopes with money. It wasn’t that he thought of me as cheap or buyable, he just felt like I was worth it. I have grown to expect this treatment from men. I am not a high maintenance woman; I am not a snob, a user, a bitch or a diva. I appreciate men and they appreciate me. I am thankful and kind and the men I date know this and therefore respect me in this way.
This evening something different was brewing. I could tell in S’s manner. He began telling me the story behind his visit in town. I had assumed it was a business trip but it was actually a reunion. He told me that in college he became best friends with three other guys. They all studied at the business school and were the top of their classes. They took their educations very seriously but one year, during spring break, they took a trip together to Mexico. This is where the bonds of friendship were cemented. From then on, each year they got together. Sometimes they visited Florida beaches, or Aspen mountain retreats, French chateaus, and once even to Thailand. Due to their careers or families some years they could only manage a weekend away. This was one of those quick weekend visits. S was the only one who had settled far from the NY/NJ/PA area. The other three lived near by. S went on to tell me that these guys were some of the best men he had ever met. He told me that he “loved” these guys. He had met with them the night before and he was feeling bad because each of these guys worked hard in life. They had each married and supported their wives and children. And S felt that each of these friends were not being treated the way they deserved. “I started thinking” he said. “I know you say that you think that everyone deserves passion in their lives and dammit Mia, my friends have forgotten what passion is. My buddy C, he is a successful man, works hard and it’s not that he doesn’t have a life, he does, but his wife died five years ago and he hasn’t found a woman yet who isn’t after him for his money, they all seem to be blood suckers”. I listened as he went on, telling me how C is active at his community, plays golf often, sponsors charity events, and is part owner of an art gallery downtown. Before we left the bar and headed up to his hotel room, S had my permission to give his friend C my number.
The next weekend I drove to a free concert in the park to meet this man C and talk. I had no idea what this man liked but he sounded interesting enough and going to see live music was his idea. I absolutely love live music so I thought that was a good sign. We met by the sculpture in front of the park entrance. He had short salt and pepper hair and was tall with a little bit of a belly. His arms and legs were solid, he looked strong. He had a gregarious manner. I immediately felt at ease. His size and behavior was instantly disarming, I felt like I had known him forever. He had laid out a blanket on the grassy bluff and had a picnic basket and some wine. We watched a Caribbean band play, men and women seductively swaying as they danced in front of the stage. He refilled my wine glass and scooted closer to me.
“S has explained things to me. I appreciate you spending time with me. It’s not that I am asking for much, just some time every few weeks. There is intimacy that I miss in my life. S says you are… (he searched for the right words), intuitive and non judgmental and very willing to satisfy.” I liked how he put that, I smiled and nodded “C, honestly, you seem like a great guy and I really look forward to spending more time together.” The night ended by 9:30pm and we went our separate ways.
Over the next week, C and I chatted a couple of times, his calls always made me laugh and afterward I would find an e-gift card in my inbox or a delivery for me at work. Finally the second weekend approached and he had asked me to come to his house. He had given me very specific instruction on what he wanted me to wear. He requested a muted color, straight, above the knee skirt, “khaki maybe”, a short sleeve blouse and sensible open-toed flats. “And Mia,” he ended his request, “plain white cotton panties please.” Oddest of all was that he had a rental car brought to my house that afternoon for me to drive. It was a grey Honda Odyssey.
I arrived at 5:30pm as he requested and I pulled up to a nice gated community on a golf course. The houses had small precise yards and large beautiful stone and stucco homes with substantial front porches and soaring windows. C was standing out by the sidewalk chatting with a neighbor. I pulled up and got out and he said “There you are darling; I was just telling Jack about the kids.” I smiled clueless and he gave me a big bear hug. Jack shook my hand and said he had heard a lot about me. C leaned over and kissed my cheek and told me it was so nice to see me. Jack said, “C was telling me all about how you were the top of your class in college and how you had a successful career in publishing and then how you left that all behind to be, as C said, The Best damn mom in the world!” C put his hand around my shoulder and gave me a squeeze. “I am telling you Jack, I am so proud of my girl.” That’s when I had the Aha moment.
Some people are freaked about by this sort of thing. Not I. I know how to draw the line between fantasy and reality. I like a lover to call me his little girl and I even like to call a guy Daddy from time to time, but I can promise you this, I never think real pedophilia or incest is sexy. But age play, between consenting adults, gets me hotter than I like to admit.
As I walked into his foyer the idea of age play with this large hunking male made me instantly wet. He took my hand and led me down the hallway toward a closed door. Before he opened the door he turned toward me and raised my chin toward his face and asked me if I was OK with this. I nodded and smiled and he kissed my forehead. The door opened into a lovely spacious master suite. It was tasteful and simple and masculine. He sat on the edge of his king size bed and pulled me next to him. I found myself lowering my eyes and nervously sneaking looks at him. He chuckled deeply. “You are very good at this Mia.” I sat there nervous while he stared at me, a crooked smile on his face, he was enjoying my new found nervousness. “Cute skirt darling”, as he took his big paw of a hand and smoothed it along my thigh. “But,” he hesitated “I think it’s kind of short.” He looked into my eyes and raised a disapproving brow. I bite my lip and put myself further into the role. He stood and left me feeling very small sitting on that big bed. He shut the bedroom door with a thud and with his body turned away from me took a deep breath. I felt a tremble wash over me. He came toward me and leaned on his knee, again raising my chin to his face. With his eyes locked on mine he took his finger and dragged it down my chin and neck and toward the opening of my blouse. “And this…” he said as he tugged my blouse wider so that my cleavage was displayed, “is awfully revealing.” I tried to lower my chin. My panties were soaked. He was playing me divinely. I looked down as he took both of his hands and cupped my breasts, weighing them in his palms then squeezing them firmly. I gasped. He stood up slowly in front of me where I sat on the edge of his big bed. Directly in front of my face was a generous hard on tenting the front of his trousers. His voice broke the tension, “What do you say Mia?” I gulped.
He sat back down on the bed and put his hand on my neck and softly played with the little hairs that grow there. He was taking his time. He was drawing this out. Each move was calculated. I looked down at my feet that were too short to touch the ground from the edge of this massive bed. He rested one hot heavy hand on my knee, his fingertips lightly touching my inner thigh. I tried not to respond to his caresses. After a few moments though, I moaned quietly and parted my legs slightly. He jerked his hand away and asked me what I was doing. He raised his voice and asked “Mia, what do you think you are doing opening your legs like that! See what you do!” He leaned back and showed me a growing wet stain on the fabric at the end of an impressive hard –on hidden behind his pants front. That’s when he said the words I had been waiting to hear. “I am going to have to punish you!”
“I know Daddy.” “I can’t help myself.” “I am sorry.” “I get carried away.”
He guided me with a firm grasp on the back of my neck over his lap. His cock poked against my belly. His large hand raised the back of my skirt. My white cotton covered ass was displayed for his eyes. His cock flexed under me and he murmured appreciation. He began spanking me. He started slow and built up, just like an expert. I forgot who I was or what was going on. I was his baby girl and he was my Daddy and I was a naughty slut who needed to be taught a lesson. I was in heaven. He pulled the hem of my panty up into my ass crack and worked on my cheek directly. The heat was growing. I opened my legs wider and moaned and pushed back against him, whimpering. His blows quickened. I arched my back and wiggled against his throbbing dick. He was panting and insistently spanking. Finally he pulled my panties down over my ass cheeks, I assisted his pulling them down to my thighs and let my bare pussy rest against his thigh. We sat perfectly still both of us breathing hard. He laid his palm against my burning ass. His fingertips nestled against my ass crack. I moved just enough to grind my clit against his firm thigh. His fingers slide down and pressed against my wetness; he made a deep groan. I arched my back and pushed back into his hand. He sunk a finger into me. He hoarsely whispered “fuck mia…”. He finger fucked me as I lay over his lap grinding my clit into his thigh. I came within a minute; he pulled his fingers out of my swollen folds with a sucking sound. I was drenched. I was so lost in my pleasure I hadn’t realized all the squirming and wiggling I had been doing while cumming had brought him to climax as well. He slurped his finger clean then patted my bottom, “good girl.”
C and I have been playing this game for almost six months. He has never fucked me. Each time it’s variations on the theme of slutty girl needing punishment. Sometimes we go out together and he watches me flirt with young men and brings me home to punish. He likes dressing me up. He likes spoiling me. He often presents gifts to me during our dates. If I drive to his house he always has the minivan brought over beforehand.
S has introduced me to the other two of his college friends. I don’t even want to date other men other than these four men. I am having so much fun discovering myself and feeling appreciated though these men.