The Bag Lady and the Domme Ch. 05

"Tell me about it. Tell me how it all started and above all, tell me what it is you like about being buggered," I instructed, genuinely inquisitive. I held his hand again, stroking my thumb over his palm while I kept the cruel pressure with my heel on his astonishingly tumescent cock. This sadistic act, plus the humiliation of having been caught out was arousing him. And I can tell you readers, it was making my pussy as wet as a swimming pool. I could feel the ache in my clitty as it lay outside the folds of my sex. This was pure erotic heaven.

"It started as a drunken game. I'd gone there on the invite of Mrs Columbine. She had by chance spoken to me about some investments just as I was getting into the Jag one day. Somehow I'd mentioned that you were working long hours again so I had plenty of time to help. She joked how that mustn't be good for our sex lives. Then walked away, calling over her shoulder for me to come to dinner that night. She said her husband would be away..."

I slipped off my shoe and now ran my bare foot against his hardness. I could not remember a time when he had felt so hard. Well, not since we were young lovers at University. I realised that for the first time in a very long time I was enjoying the feel of that cock; every ridge and vein under my very sensitive foot. I could see on his face as he talked that he was enjoying this too, however embarrassed he might be judging from the continued flush of his handsome face.

"...so when I sat in their dining room that evening there was only Mrs Columbine, er Danielle, and myself. She was a great conversationalist, talking about the arts, her garden and then she suddenly switched to the topic books. All the time she talked she kept topping up our glasses of a deep red Chateauneuf. The food was exquisite too, far too lavish I thought for a simple meal with a neighbour..."

"Johnnie!" I snapped, "tell me what happened not the menu."

He looked a bit shocked by my assertiveness. "S-sorry darling," he said, looking at me almost sadly with his big blue eyes flashing in the light of the booth. I was melting with both love and desire for him but I was damned if he would know that yet. He continued, more enthusiastically as I had added my other bare foot to the other side of his thick and rock hard manhood. I was impressed that he had not cum given my administrations.

"...Well, she started with asking me if I had ever read Treasure Island. It was innocent enough, but then she began to subtly add in some erotic thoughts. For example, how did the hero cope without a woman to satisfy his natural need for sex? I'd never even thought of that issue. Then, she asked me what I did when marooned in hotel rooms with no woman to 'satisfy' me. I tried to change the subject but she was incredibly insistent. 'Do you masturbate or hire a prostitute?' she asked. I was shocked and embarassed," Johnnie said, though I felt his big dick pulse between my feet. I knew now humiliation was something he loved.

"So what did you reply?" I asked softly, letting my left hand trail slowly along the seam of my wrap-over, loosening the material slightly over my breasts. I could breath again and feel a cool breeze from the air-conditioning above caress my skin.

"I found myself admitting that I masturbate, thinking of you and missing how we used to make love as students and then when first married. You know, before the children seemed to..."

"...interfere with our fucking," I interrupted swiftly, with a flashback of fucking in the open air during a wild party coming to mind. "Darling," I said gently but firmly, "call it what it is; 'fucking', 'humping' or even 'shagging' but not 'making love'. I want you to be honest with me. Continue," I ordered.

"She licked her lips as she sat entranced and asked me how I did it! Did I take my cock out of my pants and wank or undress, prepare tissues and lie in bed and 'beat my rod', as she put it? It was weird, I found myself telling her everything!"

"And what was that?"

"That I strip naked, then call you. I talk to you, listening to your soft melodious voice getting harder by the minute as your tone arouses me. It's crazy but you could be reading the weather forecast or telling me how the children have misbehaved and I would be lying there, dick in hand, hard as they come and stroking my meat. Then, when we had said our 'goodnights' I'd put the phone down, lie back with my legs wide apart and begin to masturbate up and down my shaft slowly. However, this has become more complex in recent years as I like to insert a digit of my other hand first into my mouth as I imagine you sucking my cock - a rare event as you know - and then that same wet digit into my anus."

"Mmmmm," I heard myself utter. My left hand subconsciously having gone to my breast inside the wrapover. My nipple was hard. I'd never heard him speak this way or be so candid about sex. I straightened myself up in the chair, but left my hand to play. "Carry on," I ordered.

"Well I admitted to wanking with one finger or more up my arse and beating away until the cum splashed high on my chest, sometimes with the intensity hitting my own face." He stopped, looking at me with such lustful eyes and clearly straining to stop himself cumming. I liked his discomfort.

"Darling," I said in my sweetest, mostly saccharine voice, "you are NOT to cum."

He understood. I knew he had played with the Columbines, so I had no doubt he had been made to withhold cumming. The tortuous look on his face told me that. He was saved by Su coming back through the door. Her hair was back in its bun and her breasts were hidden again, but this time her outfit was that of a maid. I guessed they had a client in who liked to play dressing games. Her legs looked superb, so long and in the sexiest of fishnet stockings, the tops of which were visible as the skirt was ridiculously short. I could not see the back but guessed it was only just covering her arse.

"Stand still," I ordered her. "Keep your head up and the tray in front of you. Johnnie, lift the front of her skirt."

He looked at me quizzically.

"Do it, now!" I snapped.

He turned, which must have been quite difficult as my feet held his cock in a tight vice of toes, and reached out, lifting the dress out of the way to show Su's swollen pussy lips that were practically dripping with excitement. She had just a sliver of hair above her clitty. It had to go.

"You can serve the meal, but next time you come in here I do not expect to see that fluff on our pussy mound, understand?"

"Er, yes..."

"Mistress. You will call me Mistress and him Master."

"Yes Mistress," she replied respectfully as she carefully placed the large bowl of oysters in the centre of the table and gave each of us the necessary eating irons and plates.

"So continue," I ordered Johnnie, not paying any attention to Su as she came to and fore with Champagne, glasses and napkins which she delicately placed in our laps. However, I did enjoy the sight of her perfect naked arse as she bent to my adjust my husband's serviette; though I missed his physical reaction to her touch as I had now placed my feet back on the floor.

"Danielle quickly made a connection with the anal play. She asked me if I thought that the writer had been dishonest in casting Man Friday as just a servant and friend, and did I not think that they would have become lovers. I tried to argue it was all platonic, but then she reminded me that I too had in my loneliness sought a substitute for so-called 'natural' sex and had buggered myself. She pressed, stating that Man Friday and Robinson would have inevitably buggered each other. She graphically described the act of Friday's thick black cock entering Crusoe's virgin behind. Her massive breasts that were heaving in a very low cut green silk blouse showed hard nipples against the taut material. I realised at that moment how beautiful she was in a strong, Amazonian way. I could tell the imagery excited her and have to admit, her descriptions aroused me too. I was hard in my trousers. But what I did not expect was what happened next..."

"And what was that?" I asked, feeling the wetness between my legs drip down to my anus.

"She asked me if it made me hard thinking of them buggering! I was flabberghasted. 'How did she know?' I asked myself. And she answered me. 'You are a very attractive man and I can see the dilation of your beautiful blue eyes. When you eyes dilate like that I know your cock is growing hard and strong. How big is it?' she asked, as if trying to get a price on a banana at the market," he laughed, though I too was looking in his eyes and seeing they had widened.

"...We sat silently for a while, with me not answering. I have to admit I was both shocked and aroused. I felt the humiliation of having been found out, like some teenage boy who can't control his erection in front of the girl of his dreams in class. My dick just would not behave!"

"So, did you show her?" I enquired, perhaps a little too enthusiastically for someone who was meant to be stern and in control.

"No, I asked her what her favourite novel was. She told me she had so many but it was 'Tipping the Velvet' for a good lesbian read, 'Brokeback Mountain' when she wanted to read a love story between men and 'The Story of O' when she felt a need to explore the submission of women. She was able to quote whole passages from the work of the Marquis de Sade, though she thought even he had gone too far with his 120 Days of Sodom; especially the obscene torturing, though she loved to see her men constrained and made occasionally into 'fuck toys' as she called them. I was fascinated by her breadth and depth of reading, even if the three top books did not rate with me as classics. She gave me some to read later..."

"Yes I've seen them. Never knew there were so many ways to fuck!" I laughed. He relaxed, looking even more handsome as he looked me straight in the eyes before continuing as we ate the delicious oysters and drank the wonderfully dry champagne. I was feeling quite light headed and very aroused. Under my arse was a pool of my juice. The air must have been full of my scent.

"Oh, so you have found my stash?" he asked, though did not seem embarrassed now, more relieved to tell me. "She gave me that night so many things to 'open my eyes to the possibilities' as she put it. Even more were to follow, of all sorts of depravities in some batches mixed with classical books in others."

"And what else did she give you that night?" I persisted, feeling excited to know what had happened and no longer angry that he had kept this a secret. No, that fact now added to the mystery and intrigue. In fact, I gave him a little sign of how it was affecting me. I slid my hand inside my dress again and widened the gap from neck to navel. My breasts were almost out of the top, inviting. Only my hard nipples prevented a 'wardrobe malfunction' as Janice had called it. I saw the momentary lust in his eyes. Good. I smiled at him.

"Well, she went back to the kitchen to get the next course, filling my glass while she stood and allowing me to see right down the front of that blouse. She has magnificent breasts..."

"Tits," I corrected, wanting him to be sexually graphic.

"Er, yes her tits were - are - fantastic for a middle aged woman. They are so firm and..."

"Darling, get on with it. I want to know more."

"Ok, well she came back from the kitchen carrying a large tray with two tagine casserole dishes in front."

"So?"

"Well, when she bent to put them on the table she had no top on! The blouse had gone. Only those dishes had disguised the fact and I sat there open-mouthed. I was embarrassed but aroused. I could not, did not want to look, anywhere else."

"Good," I heard myself saying. Me the one, remember readers, who had been angry at his duplicity. I was approving his bad behaviour Well, what else could I do? I would be a hypocrite and besides, with the lake between my legs I was so aroused by this confession.

"She sat down and simply said, 'do you like it?' What was I supposed to answer? So I lifted the tagine lid and complemented her on the amazing essences emanating from the dish. It was heavenly, but so was the sight of her enormous titties no more than two feet away. I ached in my trousers like nobody's business. Yet she was so controlled, so 'matter of fact', especially when she added in the most authoritative way, 'eat'. I felt I had no choice. Then she continued to talk, this time moving on to films. She knew them all, reminding me of the beauty of Scarlet Johannsen as she sat in her knickers in that hotel room in Japan, or the scene in the Marlon Brando film where he puts butter up the anus of his lover and fucks her. Last Tango? Then she described graphically such oldies as 'I Curious Yellow' and 'Emmanuelle' which she thought was ridiculously censored, but she has an unabridged copy. She asked me about my tastes and that is when I felt incredibly sad. I could not explain it, but realised that you and I had not been to see a film or even hire and sit in front of the Plasma Cinema for so long. She saw the change in me and proceeded to enact a scene from some obscure French film (well, obscure to me at that time), where the heroine - a waitress in a restaurant - undoes her blouse in front of a customer then proceeds to caress her breasts for him regardless of all the other people there. She took her large tits in both hands and kneaded them, letting her tongue lick and dart around her mouth. She was tugging at the teats, pulling them far out from her body. I could see etched in her face some pain and yet mixed with it intense pleasure. She was panting and sighing, eventually forgetting the script of the film and telling me all the things she wanted to do to me and me to her. Saying how her husband's cock was so beautiful but how she wanted him to pleasure her arse as she sucked on my cock. I could see she was capable of orgasm just from the caressing of her tits and was mesmerised by her actions. I sat there, immobilised, hard and aching to reach across and touch her. Always though something held me back so far, for all the games we had played at that table."

"So what the fuck held you back?" I asked, showing some frustration that he had broken the tale to confess some probably pious thought.

"I thought of you and felt guilty."

"You fucking arsehole!" I shouted in a most undignified way.

He looked crestfallen. Suddenly Johnnie was back in the embarrassed but this time thoroughly despondent camp. I'd gone too far. How was I to get it back? Of course, he had got through that stage if Ludmilla (their maid and confidant of my maid) was right.

"Sorry darling, it's just that so much has changed in me and I'm forgetting that it's not as simple as turning on a switch, so how did you end up getting buggered and buggering for that matter?"

"Well it was weird at first. She seemed to be able to pull herself together out of her orgasmic stupour and continue the conversation as if nothing had happened. We talked about more films, some extremely bizarre like Barbed Wire Dolls and Destricted, to comedic such as the Tinto Brassi series including All Ladies Do It and Cheeky. I remembered that last one as you and I had been taken by the heroine walking without panties over the park that is outside our house. Remember how I tried to get you to reenact it for me? I told her about that and she said how much she'd like to get into your knickers. That set me off saying 'you'd be lucky' as even I can't go there often! She laughed at me and said I was just going about it wrongly. Before I knew it, she was coaching me in how I should do it to her."

I was part angry and part aroused that (a) she had been told I was effectively a frigid bitch and (b) that she was excited by the idea of getting into my panties. And now I was even more curious and not a little aroused to know what happened to change my Johnnie into the pervert he'd obviously become.

"So how was that?"

"Well, by this time we had eaten the main course and she cleared the dishes, still bare titted which was marvelous. This incredibly statuesque woman was parading half naked for me. I could hardly believe it. She disappeared into the kitchen again, coming out with a tray of fruit and cream. I thought she was going to place them on the table, but instead she stood right beside me. I felt suddenly very uncomfortable as she did not speak. There was a palpable silence that hung in the air and still she waited, her short skirt close to my left ear and I could swear I could smell the sweet aroma of pussy over the smell of fruits. Still she stood with the tray in her hands and her magnificent tits jutting above. Still she was silent and made no eye contact with me, keeping her head up like Su had done. I was unsure but my instincts were showing me the way.

I slid my left hand up her leg, feeling the musculature of her thigh and up to the curve of her hip. There was a string around her waist, clearly the band that held a minuscule pair of panties in place. I traced the cord round to arrive at a tiny patch of silky material that was clearly covering her pudenda. There seemed to be none of the roughness of hair I find when I touch you through your panties. No this was silky smooth. I became daring and ran one finger down the centre to find a damp furrow that was clearly her labia. It was sopping wet and I teased it by running first one and then two fingers up and down the tightly covered slit. She was moaning loudly above me and yet she kept the tray perfectly still. She had such amazing control though her teats were out like those on babies' bottles.

I slipped my fingers under the silk to be greeted by a completely smooth sex. She cried out, 'yes!' as my digits dipped inside the honey pot. The air was filled with sweetness. I suddenly became impatient, gripping the wet triangle between my fingers and ripped it off her. Another sigh. Then instinct took over. I pushed two fingers as deep as I could into her sodden twat. It was wonderful. It's amazing how different she was from you. The entrance was smooth as silk, just like her panties. She was trying not to move, to keep the tray even as I finger fucked her. But then I had an idea but before I could execute it, Danielle said, 'See silly boy, you could have done that to your sexy wife, then she would HAVE to have walked across the park pantiless!" She laughed. "Now finger fuck me before I die of frustration and stick a finger up my arse.'

It did not take me long to accept the orders! I was sawing in and out of her wet pussy like a pro. I added a third finger when I thought she could take it. Listen to me. I've never done that with you but her clever discussion of films and books, filling my head with erotic scenes, had deposited a set of ideas I now wanted to try. I reached my other hand round, having spat on my index finger, parted her arse cheeks and delved into the little rose bud. She opened for me with ease. It was not long before she was orgasming again and again. My hand was soaked as she gushed from her cunt and the index finger of my right hand was deep to the knuckle. She screamed, literally, in pleasure. But what was so impressive was that the fruit and cream had not even moved on the tray. This woman amazed me for her physical control."

"But you said before you had an idea, what was that honey?" I asked, using a term of endearment for him I had not used in a very long time. I was so turned on, and even more so by hearing how in charge he was. Where was the submissive I'd assumed from the buggering and the scene Ludmilla had described to Anya?

"I pulled my fingers out of her much to her dismay. She gave a pathetic cry of 'please' clearly thinking I'd had enough or backed out, but no I needed to remove her skirt and it took two hands to get the damn hook and eye on her waist band undone and the zip down. Her matching green silk skirt slid over her firm thighs and long, long legs to lie at her feet. My God! She is beautiful naked. An absolute beauty. Of course, not in the same way as you are..."