I got about four hours of sleep and arrived at my job site on time to get my guys doing everything they were supposed to be doing. I didn’t mention anything about my previous evening’s escapades because I knew nobody would believe me. I could hardly believe it myself. However, it wasn’t long into the day before I received a text message from Lane. She said:
“I had a fantastic time last night, and I’m looking forward to this evening. I thought we could just eat in. Any preferences? I’m not much of a cook :).”
I replied:
“Not an issue, I’ll pick up Chinese or Sushi, you choose.”
She replied instantly:
“Oh, thank you so much! I’m not really particular. I’m far more interested in what I’ll eat after dinner. Drink a lot of water today, I’m looking forward to having your cum all over me again, and I want a really big load!:).”
I was a bit taken aback by Lane’s outspoken forwardness, but this was to become something I’d have to learn to adjust to:
“Absolutely. It’ll be my pleasure to accommodate your wishes.”
She once again replied:
“Your wishes are what’s most important. I can’t wait to feel you inside me. I’m looking forward to showing you my pussy. I’m already dripping wet.”
I answered in a way that I thought she’d appreciate:
“As any good slut should be.”
She replied in a very submissive manner:
“Yes, Sir. I’ll be completely agreeable to your every instruction and desire.”
This was getting very interesting. So, I answered in a bit of a domineering way:
“Then I’ll expect you to wear nothing but a garter belt & stockings. I prefer black.”
And she, of course, answered:
“I was planning on greeting you, on my knees and in suitable attire, Sir. Whatever you wish.”
I replied:
“That will be sufficient, this time.”
Lane replied:
“Thank you, Sir. I look forward to your using me for your pleasure.”
I answered:
“I anticipate that you’ll make your best effort.”
She replied:
“Yes, Sir, you can count on that. I ask only that you use me, without any restraint, as your personal slut.”
I answered:
“I shall leave you trembling and dripping. I will see you at 8:00 pm.”
Lane replied:
“Yes, Sir, I’ll be waiting for you to feed me.”
Time passed excruciatingly slowly that particular day, and I even sent everyone home early as I wanted a couple of hours to spare to ready myself for my meeting with Lane.
I proposed that question to myself, “What is the appropriate gift to bring someone who aspires to become your personal slut?”
The answer proved harder to determine than one might think. On one hand, I did very much enjoy the ‘Yes, Sir’ treatment, but it just had to be an act, right? On the other hand, should we actually move forward into a more serious, love relationship, I was going to need more than a self-professed sex slave. As crazy as that sounds, it was the truth.
So, I decided upon a number of things. I bought flowers to appeal to the traditional feminine side of her. As I wanted her to know that I saw her as a woman first. I also selected a moderately expensive perfume, as I had noticed that she did wear fragrance. I bought a large coffee table book with large color plates of all the classic Paris sights.
Beyond that, I made every inch of myself more than presentable, picked up an enormous sushi platter, and at a couple of minutes to 8:00 pm, I headed over to Lane’s apartment.
I sent her a message before leaving my home, stating that I’d be there in just a few minutes, and received the reply:
“I am eagerly waiting, as instructed.”
I was full of excited, nervous anticipation, driving the 2 or 3 miles to her place. I pulled into the driveway and looked up to the third floor, at her large windows that overlooked the bay. I could tell that at least the entire front room was candlelit, judging by the amber glow illuminating the room.
I parked, gathered up my offerings, and began to ascend the 30,000 steps to her deck and front door. I balanced the sushi tray on the deck railing, needing a free hand to knock on the door. However, when I touched the door, it swung open a bit, having been, what I assumed, intentionally left open.
Having seen too many cop shows growing up, I pushed the door open with my foot, ready for anything, and what greeted me was beyond what I expected.
Lane was kneeling on the floor, bent forward with her arms stretched out in front of her, one hand covering the other. Her long crimson hair, thrown forward, cascading majestically over the rug. She was completely nude, with the exception of a black garter and stockings, and she didn’t make a sound, nor did she look at me. She appeared to be in a meditative state
I, too, remained silent, setting my offerings on the counter, not even bothering to close the door.
She slowly began to retract her outstretched arms, like recovering from a yoga pose, keeping her head bowed.
“This is the pose of complete submission,” she said softly. “I am yours to use in any way you wish, Sir,” she said, remaining on her knees with her head still lowered, with her hands, palm down on either thigh.
‘A flair for the dramatic,’ I thought to myself. ‘Nothing like a little performance art.’
“I will meet your gaze when instructed, Sir,” she whispered. “And when you wish me to assume my pose of submission, simply say, ‘down,’ and I will obey.
I moved forward while unbuttoning my Levi’s.
“Are you prepared for me to use your slutty mouth to satisfy my cock?”
The question visibly excited her, and she inhaled sharply. “Yes, Sir, I’ve been waiting.”
“Then raise your head and open your mouth,” I instructed, grasping the base of my already erect cock.
Lane slowly raised her head until her eyes locked onto my own. I extended my hand until my fingers touched her neck and slid my hand around to cradle the base of her tiny head in my palm. I grasped a handful of her cascading locks, allowing the strands to weave between my fingers. I gave it a little tug, just to test my grip, and Lane uttered an involuntary moan.
I took a single step forward and placed the head of my cock on her extended tongue. She sighed, like someone receiving water in the desert.
I slowly pulled Lane’s head forward, watching my cock slide over her outstretched tongue and disappear down her throat. I guided her forward until her nose buried itself into my abdomen. I could actually see her throat expand, hugging my shaft.
I held her firmly in place, with my length nested between her tonsils, and said, “When I remove my cock, I want you to tell me how much you love having me fuck your throat. Do you hear me, Lane?”
She just made a guttural noise and began pounding her fists on my thighs. Now, at this point, I wasn’t sure if she was extremely aroused or struggling for air, so I quickly withdrew from her oral captivity.
Lane took a deep breath, and her head drooped, followed by the sound of what sounded like rain on the carpet. Her body tremored, and she was breathing like she’d just run a marathon. Suddenly, everything became clear.
Still having maintained a firm grip on her fiery red hair, I quickly jerked her head back up and was greeted by her wide smile and the fire in her eyes.
“Fuck! Nobody makes me cum like that, Baby,” she stammered out, panting. “Fuck my mouth…please, Sir. I love having your cock down my throat. Please, please use my mouth. I want you to pump your load down my throat, Sir,” she pleaded. “I’ve been waiting…” That was to become a very familiar and well-used phrase.
Again, I guided her open mouth forward, this time, with a bit more force, as I was now more convinced that Lane very much enjoyed being controlled. With a moderate tempo, I began fucking her mouth, while she moaned with each complete insertion.
“If you want that cum, Lane, you’re going to have to earn it,” I said firmly, making certain that my cock was lodged snugly in her throat, before I commenced fucking her eager mouth.
And then a thought occurred to me. I decided to test her, and I removed my cock and simply said, ‘down.’ Lane instantly assumed her submission pose.
“It just occurred to me that I’ve yet to see your pussy, Lane,” I commented, walking around behind her. “I’m certain that it’s simply an oversight on your part,” I said, gazing at her smallish, tight, dancer’s butt. “I’m sure you’re quite eager to exhibit your slutty little holes for me, aren’t you?”
“Oh, yes, Sir, I am,” Lane responded, half moaning as she softly spoke.
“Hmmm,” I muttered, as if taking stock of the two little, pale globes in front of me. “Well, then, might I suggest that you get this slutty, little ass up in the air and spread those white cheeks so that I may take a closer look.”
Obediently, and remaining prone on the carpet, Lane reached behind herself, spreading her cheeks a widely apart as was possible, for my viewing pleasure and approval.
I remained silent while I gazed upon my new territory.
Lane was the owner of a typically exquisite red-headed pussy. Medium-sized, smooth butterfly lips, with a hooded sheath, shrouding a perfectly pronounced and erect clit. Her puckered backdoor matched her flawless lips, in the most vibrant shade of pastel pink that I’d ever seen. She was truly a magnificent work of art.
“Do I please you, Sir?” she asked, remaining frozen in her pose, with her sex dripping like a faucet.
“There’s still a great deal to be discovered, Lane,” I answered. “Your slutty holes are indeed beautiful; however, the real beauty lies in how you use them to please me, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Yes, Sir. That’s correct,” she answered dutifully. “My holes are for you to use in any way that you see fit.”
“And use them I shall,” I replied. “And for the future, I want you to memorize this pose. Each time I order you to ‘display’, you shall immediately assume this pose until I permit you to move. Do you understand?” I instructed.
“It will be my pleasure, Sir,” she replied.
I then reached down and stroked Lane’s dripping pussy, which seemed to affect her like a jolt of electricity. Her back arched, and she rocked back on her hips, welcoming my exploration.
I collected a generous amount of her dripping arousal and anointed the head of my cock.
“When I give you the command, ‘up,’ you will rise to your knees with your mouth open, ready to receive my cock,” I instructed. “Is that acceptable and clear?”
“Yes, Sir, absolutely,” Lane responded, maintaining her current pose. “I await your command.”
“Very good, very obedient,” I said, in an admiring tone of voice, continuing to apply her thick, slippery juice to my cock. “I think it’s time you lick your passion from my cock.”
“That is an excellent idea, Sir,” she replied.
“Up,” I instructed, and Lane resumed a kneeling position with her hands, palms down on her thighs, her mouth open and her tongue ready to receive my cock.
“Well done, Lane. You make a fine slut,” I said, letting her know I was pleased and impressed with her obedience.
“Thank you, Sir. It is my goal and my desire,” she answered with an expression of gratitude and excitement.
I stood in front of her, presenting my erect shaft, looming over her extended tongue.
“You may now lick your arousal from my cock,” I said.
Lane began licking my cock from base to tip, removing the shimmering layer of her excitement. She carried out her duty with the utmost enthusiasm.
“Do you like licking your passion from my cock, Lane?” I asked and added, “Do you enjoy the essence of a pussy?”
“Oh yes, Sir,” she answered, beaming delightedly. “Although I’ve only tasted my own.”
“Oh well,” I remarked. “Maybe, if you prove to be an exemplary slut, we might have the opportunity to broaden your scope of experience.”
A fire burned in Lane’s eyes, and she answered, “It would be my pleasure to satisfy another’s pussy for your satisfaction, Sir. You have only to instruct me, and I will gladly obey,” she replied. “It would be my pleasure to arrange such an experience.”
‘Holy Fuck!’ I thought to myself, but remained composed and answered, “Such privileges will have to be earned, Lane,” I answered, tightening my grip on her red mane and unexpectedly sliding my cock down her throat.
Her eyes grew wide as I held my cock momentarily between her tonsils. As I withdrew myself, she took a deep breath, and I began pumping myself deeply in and out of her oral cavity.
It wasn’t long before I could feel the surge within myself begin to build, and she sensed the same thing, thrusting her head forward, forcing my cock into her throat as deeply as it could reach.
My shaft swelled, and I held Lane’s head firmly in place. My cock began to erupt, releasing stream after stream of sticky, warm cum down Lane’s throat, and as anticipated, her hands commenced pounding on my chest.
I groaned with each successive burst from my encapsulated lance, and once again, I heard the raindrops splattering the carpet beneath Lane.
Even as my orgasm subsided, she refused to release her captive, harvesting each drop until I essentially dropped out of her mouth.
I released my grip on her flowing red curls and gently took her hand, helping her up into my arms.
Her eyes shone like the very stars above, and I passionately initiated a long, loving kiss.
“That was magnificent,” I said, stroking the rogue strands of hair from her face.
“Are you satisfied, Sir?” she asked, seemingly unable to suppress her beaming smile.
“For the moment,” I replied.
“I suppose I should apologize,” she began. “I may have gotten a bit carried away. No one has made me that excited in, well, years.”
“You know what they say, 90% of sex takes place in the imagination,” I replied.
“Certainly, the brain is the largest sex organ and all that, but this feels different to me,” she answered.
“I must confess, I felt a few things myself,” I remarked, and Lane giggled her infectious laugh.
“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself,” she said. “Should I put on a robe?”
“And cover these perfect tits?” I answered, running my hands over her flat tummy and holding each of her breasts in either hand. “If I recall, you said that you loved being naked.”
“Well, well, a handsome man with a beautiful cock that’s actually paying attention? I’m shocked,” she said, still beaming. “As you wish, Sir,” she added playfully. “I have to say, I’m starving. I thought you were bringing dinner?”
“Oh shit!” I stammered, remembering the sushi I left on the deck railing. “I did, I just kind of got sidetracked, and I left it on the deck, and…”
“So, how do you feel about pizza?” she asked, cutting me off in mid-sentence.
“Fine, but I bought this sushi and…” I began again, and Lane cut me off again, as I reached for the front door knob and opened the door.
“I’d like you to meet Gary,” she said, starting to laugh hysterically.
And there was Gary. A very fat seagull and an empty sushi platter.
“For fuck sakes,” I said, making no impression whatsoever on Gary. I turned back to face Lane and said, “Gianni’s?”
Lane was laughing too hard to verbally respond and just shook her head.
I shut the front door, plopped down onto the sofa, and Lane lay on the couch with her head in my lap, while I called for a pizza.
I finished the call and surveyed my current position. There I was, very comfortable, with a five-foot-seven, thin, red-haired, naked woman lying in my lap, absentmindedly stroking my cock with her fingernails. There was no doubt in my mind that later in the evening, I’d be consumed by every hole this vixen possessed. We hadn’t even scratched the surface of the possibilities yet. This was a bit of all right.
