Jane is Trained to Submit Ch. 14

He walked close to the staff door, and Jane gave him a nod. He slipped through the door, and into a restroom. It was a female toilet, no urinals. He went into the furthest of three cubicles and stood on the seat. It was like being back in school, waiting to play a trick on someone. The excitement was building. With a raging hard on all evening, he was willing to do anything to get laid.

Hearing Jane talking to the security guy, he peeped out the door.

'Where's Lizzie?' Jimmy asked.

'It's taking her ages pulling off that get-up,' Jane giggled. About to get into the elevator she turned toward him, with a large pair of breasts pressing against his chest. 'Oh! Sorry, could you do me a favour?' she asked, trying on her little girl lost demeanour.

'Sure, what is it,' Jimmy said.

He was tired, wanting to get off shift, and back home to bed. The girls had a rough time this evening, so he was a little forgiving.

'We've run out of vodka, could you get me a glass? I'll hold the door, until you get back,' she promised.

'A glass won't be missed,' he sighed. 'Don't move,' he told her.

She watched him insert a pass-card into the door leading into the bar. She flapped her hand at Nigel, hastening him into the elevator. He tiptoed across the hard concrete floor. No extra expense for plush carpets was necessary behind the scenes.

There wasn't anywhere to hide, but he pressed himself up against the side, as though he might become invisible.

She stepped away from the doors to take the glass of vodka, letting the elevator go. The guard had already switched the key to their floor, so the elevator rode up with Nigel inside.

'Thank you, so much,' she said, and kissed the guards cheek goodnight.

He blushed from the unexpected attention. The girls ran around scantily clad, but he was used to that. Jane was wearing a simple dress, which made her a normal young woman.

He inserted the key, and waited with her until the elevator descended. He pressed the button for her room, and Lizzie jumped in next to her. They blew him kisses as the doors closed.

***

Nigel stepped out of the elevator into a swish suite. 'Wow!' he exclaimed.

Hearing the mechanism whirring he decided to get out of the way, and found a bedroom. Hesitant at first, he pulled off his shoes and draped the jacket on a chair back. He grinned widely and shucked the rest of his clothes, and jumped into the huge bed.

He heard Jane talking to someone and realised there were two of them.

'Hell!' he whispered.

What was going on? The penthouse suite was a surprise, and now there were two women. They were giggling, and talking, though he couldn't hear what was being said. Maybe Jane was being kept by a rich man, but then why let her work in the club? Perhaps they played kinky games. He could do that.

'So where is he?' Elizabeth asked.

Having listened to Jane's hurried explanation, over how she sneaked a man up here, Elizabeth was excited. Sneaking someone up here proved there was a gap in security, and a way out. All they needed was their tips to be paid, and they could flee back home.

'I'll handle him, there's no need to meet him,' Jane said.

Elizabeth was bouncing with enthusiasm. A man in their bed! Shit! She had been showing off her body to strangers for a few days, and enjoyed every minute. This evening she had been so worked up, she was desperate.

'OK. Go ahead,' Elizabeth encouraged.

She bit her nails, feeling nervous. The damn vibrator butterfly left her feeling so horny, she could screw anything with a cock. Her head rocked up on hearing a man's voice in the bedroom. Her whole body shook with pleasure. It was demeaning to be so excited over a stranger being in their bed, and being so excited over it.

'How may I serve you master?' Jane said.

Nigel couldn't speak. He patted the bed instead. Jane didn't need an order, this was an obvious command to do what she craved. She pulled the dress over her head, and wriggled out of the panties. She eagerly slipped into bed, pressing her naked body against him.

Nigel couldn't get out of his head that this was Mrs Marshal, a friends' mother. The once proud, stern woman, was panting for him. He'd finger fucked her to an orgasm, in a public place, and now he was in her bed. Dare he try those dirty things she had offered to do for him. It no longer seemed an empty promise, born from a potential blackmail threat. The woman was hot and desperate.

Having a fit excited young body wanting her, was a reminder of Mark and their adventurous sexual escapades. Her whole body was over sensitive to his touch. She lay flat, letting him kiss her, responding to his tongue with impassioned murmurings. He kissed his way to her breasts. A hand went between her legs. She sighed loudly and lifted her hips. Parting her thighs, she was keenly aware of the broadcast message, that she was ready.

He hesitated over wanting to go down on her pussy, or quickly fuck her. He had teased her and himself all evening to a high pitch of excitement. With a raging hard-on, there was no decision to make, he simply rolled on top of her. Without finesse or care, he thrust into her.

'Yes! Master, fuck your slave,' Jane yelped.

He needed no encouragement, maybe not even hearing her squeals of delight. Pushing with strong muscular legs, his cock rammed into her. At last she was receiving what was so badly needed. After two weeks without a master, and days of sexual arousal in the club, she needed a good fucking, and was getting it.

They began to orgasm. He slowed down while spurting sperm deeply into her. She lay supine, gladly feeling him fill her up. She wrapped her arms and legs around his torso, as though squeezing every drop of satisfying sex juice from him. Once sated, he uncoupled from her and slid to her side.

She wrapped her arms around him, and nestled her face on his chest. 'Thank you master, for a wonderful orgasm. You have made me yours now, master,' she murmured.

He opened his eyes, remembering where he was, and who he was with. He tentatively placed an arm around her, wondering why she called him master. As an acquaintance of his father's, she should be treated with respect. It was a marvel this older woman had allowed him into her bed, and here she was unashamedly grateful. They were naked, and cuddling after a frantic fucking. They had behaved like young lovers, rather than adult and adolescent behaving badly.

He felt giddy and tired after such a frantic screwing. It was difficult to believe that Mrs Marshal had allowed him into her bed, let alone enthusiastically fuck him. She could no longer be thought of as the prudish mother of a friend. She was a sexy slut, a MILF, and he had fucked her! He lay back wondering how it happened, and what it meant.