Stuck Between A Sub And A Dom Place

"A bar pickup turns out to be much more than I expected"

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I’ve not been on Lush for long, but I am loving it. I feel compelled to share my situation with you all. I’m thirty-eight, five foot ten and well built. I take care of myself and do a lot of biking and some weight lifting. I’m divorced with two children that live with their mother. I get to see them about twice a month on weekends.

I have two ladies in my life. The younger one is Kristie, an ex-stripper that is now a bartender at my favorite pub. That’s where we met, back in early 2016. Kristie is twenty-seven, tattooed, slim, nice breasts but not large, and always changes her hair color. She’s a kept woman, you could say. Her main man pays her rent and makes her car payments. I’ve never met him, and he doesn’t know about me. Kristie says he is an “older guy with a small penis.” I guess that’s why she likes mine.

She’s a nice girl, likes a rough fucking, but when she’s done, she’s done. It’s a rare night when she wants to go for a second time, so I end up driving home, half-satisfied. At least I’m getting laid, I figure.

Last summer, I went into the bar on a Friday night to see her and maybe take her home after for a good fuck, but she wasn’t there. I was on my second beer when I sensed someone taking the barstool to my left. Perfume wafted over me, not overpowering, but noticeable and enticing. A sort of a flowery mustiness.

I looked over and my jaw dropped. The woman sitting there was beautiful. Older than my Kristie, maybe my age, with long dark hair, dark eyes, and just the right amount of makeup. Some eyeliner, light blush, deep red lipstick. She looked like a model. My eyes slipped to her large breasts without conscious thought. Her top was a black blouse that was cut low. Her skirt was also black and allowed me to see a great amount of thigh. Her fingernails were long, painted, and decorated with little rhinestones. And oh, my GOD…her legs were magnificent. Muscular without being too thick, encased in dark nylons, and ended in feet with red heels that seemed utterly impractical, but alluring.

When I looked up, her eyes met mine and I felt my face get hot. I had been busted ogling her.

“Hello,” I said just loudly enough to be heard above the chatter of the other patrons and the music. I smiled and tried to look innocent, but not too innocent. I thought to offer to buy her a drink, but I was too late. The bartender, another twenty-something-hottie and a friend of my Kristie, arrived with her drink and slipped away with the gorgeous brunette’s cash.

“Hi,” the brunette returned and looked away. She picked up her drink and sipped at it.

I couldn’t tell if I had angered her, but I am a pretty confident guy, so I said, “I’m sorry for staring, but you’re lovely. I didn’t mean to be rude.”

“That’s okay,” she answered without looking at me. “You’re not the only guy that can’t help himself.”

The comment was blunt, and I didn’t doubt it. I said so and asked if she was a model.

She laughed and rolled her eyes. “Good line. Haven’t heard that one.” The sarcasm was thick.

“It’s no line. I’m asking. You look like you could be one is all.” I turned back to my beer, figuring she was a cold fish. Her dig at me was mild and didn’t hurt my feelings, but I don’t chase women, no matter how hard I get just getting a look at them. I was hard, I realized with some annoyance, and it would be a few minutes before I could get up to go to the washroom.

A minute went by. I stared at the liquor bottles on the shelf. Another went by. My dick ached in my jeans. I couldn’t get my mind off her, and her perfume made certain of that. It hovered over me like some magic spell. I shifted uncomfortably in my barstool and the brunette noticed.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

I turned to look at her and was pleased to see she had leaned toward me. This time, it was her turn to ogle. There was no hiding my thick hard-on in my tight jeans. Not shying, I stared into her face. Her full lips stretched to an evil grin that made my heart pound.

From there, we fell into easy conversation. She told me her name was Laurie and she talked little about her background other than to say she had not been a model. I told her what I did for a living and what I did for amusement, leaving out Kristie the bartender until she asked me directly if I was seeing someone. I couldn’t lie, so I told her. I’m sure she saw how Kristie’s friend, our bartender, was shooting dirty looks at me.

Laurie didn’t bat an eyelid when I spilled it about Kristie, but I quickly added that the relationship was casual sex only.

“Oh, I see,” Laurie said. “She’s not here tonight, so you’re up for grabs then?”

“Oh, yes.” I blurted this without thinking.

“Then if you think you can handle me, let’s get out of here.”

I paid my tab and took the cold hard stare from the bartender in stride. I tipped her anyway. I’m a cad, not a prick. Laurie and I both stood. I was stunned to realize that I had to look up to meet those penetrating dark eyes of hers. In those heels, she was easily over six feet tall. All eyes were on her as she strutted to the door with me closely behind. I tried to appear casual about it, like being picked up by a gorgeous model happened to me every day, but her lovely round ass was mesmerizing. Besides, a lot of the people in the bar knew me and knew better. Their chatter quieted some as I hit the door.

Laurie’s heels tapped the sidewalk as her hips swayed. She turned to me abruptly. Her hair swung out behind her and she moved close.

“You drove?”

I nodded.

“Red Beemer. Follow it.” With that order, she strode away down the sidewalk.

I bolted to my car and jumped in. I started the motor as I looked everywhere for a red BMW. A minute ticked by. Then another. I was just beginning to think she had blown me off when I saw the car in my side view mirror as it rolled slowly up the street. I turned my headlights on, pulled out, and followed her home.

Her house is in a neighborhood with pricey-but-not-too-pricey real estate. The brick homes in this Chicago suburb were familiar to me, as I lived in a similar one in a neighboring town as a kid.

These homes had no driveways, so there was little choice in parking. I ended up driving almost half a block past the space Laurie had grabbed. I parked my car a bit crookedly and hopped out. I got to the sidewalk and saw her waiting, silhouetted by the streetlight. She had her hip cocked to one side and her arms crossed. She was majestic.

“Hurry it up,” she called, unafraid to make her voice heard in the night.

Without thinking, I broke into a jog. I instantly felt like an idiot for responding to her bossy tone, but it was dark, and it was unlikely that someone was watching. I walked behind her as she went up her steps and unlocked the door. She went inside and gestured for me to enter.

Laurie closed the door briskly behind me, nearly slamming it. At first, I thought she was annoyed, but I hadn’t done anything wrong. For a moment, I felt as if I had stepped into some kind of trap.

I didn’t know just how right I was.

The home was well-furnished, with expensive-looking leather furniture and a giant television on the wall. The lamps, vases, and picture frames all had that huge-price-tag vibe. I liked it, partly because I could see that it was certainly not a home with children. The pictures were art prints, not family photographs.

Laurie stepped past me, grabbing the attention of my eyes. Her fingers slid across my bulge as she did, and I responded with a small grunt that I didn’t want to emit. She gave me the wicked grin again.

Fuck. What is happening here? I had been feeling my cool slip away from me since the bar, and with that soft touch of her hand, I had given away the state of my being.

Laurie told me to come to the basement, and another alarm bell rang in my head. I hesitated at its entrance in the hall. She placed a hand on her hip, and the other pointed to the front door. “Or you can leave. Your choice, flyboy.”

The place was well-lit, and her tone was inviting, though commanding. She began the descent and I don’t even remember making the decision to follow. I was just suddenly doing it.

Laurie flipped the switches on the wall and the basement lit up like a film studio. Light washed over the bottom of the staircase and when I reached the carpeted floor, I found that the room was well-appointed. Better than any man cave I had ever seen. To my left, toward the front of the home, was a bar, couch, and some chairs. To my right was, well, everything else.

My mind struggled to take in everything I was seeing. Whips, chains, crops, handcuffs, and shiny metal toys I had never laid eyes upon in my life were mounted on the wall opposite the staircase. At the far end of the room were a few exercise machines. She had a weight machine, stationary bike, a leg press, and a weight lifter’s flat bench. The weights on the rack looked like fifty-pounders. There was a dumbbell rack along the back wall, next to what appeared to be a large closet. There were other racks and stands lying about, but their purpose was not clear to me. There was a cabinet to my left, and a single bed with what looked to be rubber sheets. On the opposite side of the room, next to a black leather loveseat, were two velvet chairs.

I placed my hand on her padded leather massage table and stared at her. “So…into strength training, are ya?” I asked. She had told me that she was not married and lived alone, but I suspected I had been lied to. I kept the stairs in sight and my ears keen. If I were about to be mugged and robbed, this was a strange way to do it.

Laurie walked up to me. That wicked smile stayed and her eyes melted me. The heels clicked on the tiled floor. In the revealing light, I could see the crow’s feet at her eyes, the slight wrinkles at her mouth, and the light freckles on her chest. I was wrong about her age in the darkened pub. She appeared to be in her mid-forties. I didn’t mind in the least. She was a stunner, nonetheless, and her proximity bathed me in her scent once again. Again, I was looking up into eyes so dark they appeared black.

Damn those heels and this ache in my groin.

Laurie pressed her body into me and angled her head down to make her lips reach mine. I was unaware at first that I was being pushed a few steps back. I bumped into something, striking the back of my head on something metal. Her hands gripped my wrists with surprising strength and she lifted my arms out to my sides, still locking my lips with hers and parting my mouth with her hot tongue. Any thought of fighting her left me.

Then I heard the clicks.

Laurie broke the kiss and stepped back. She giggled like a college girl and I realized that my wrists were cuffed to the rack I had walked past.

“What the fuck…?”

“Now, now.”

“Laurie…what the fuck are you doin’?”

“Language!” she bellowed. The expression on her face changed. She switched from girl-having-fun to strict schoolmarm in a heartbeat. “This is my home and I won’t have you spewing that foul language. And it’s Miss Laura now.”

I sighed and rolled my eyes. Mistake.

Laurie, now Miss Laura, I guess, snatched a riding crop from its place on the wall and smacked it across my left thigh. It felt like I wasn’t even wearing jeans.

“Ow!” I let out but edited the “Fuckin’ bitch!” part that I was thinking of adding.

She came close again. “Now, Sammy-boy−”

Oh, great. Now it’s Sammy-boy. Wonderful.

“−if you’re cool and do what you’re told, you’re going to have a lot of fun.”

She smiled toward the end of that sentence and my dick throbbed. I felt a little faint in her cloud of perfume.

“If you’re not cool, I’m just going to let you go.”

“Really?” I said with doubt.

She nodded. “It’s your call, Flyboy. But I think you need to see something before you decide.”

“What’s that?”

Laurie said nothing as she turned around and walked to the closet at the back of the house-length cellar. She went in, shutting the door behind her. Damn, she was beautiful. Curvy in all the right places, and fit. My eyes missed her the second she went out of sight.

A landscape of possible outcomes ran through my head, some of them bad, some embarrassing, some very, very good. I wasn’t comfortable being cuffed, even though they were made of soft padded leather. I strained to have a look behind me as I gave the chains a pull. Nothing budged, and I saw that the metal rack was bolted to the tile. At the moment, it seemed I was trapped.

I was beginning to regret what I had let Laurie lead me into when the closet door opened, and she reappeared. I think I groaned “Oh, my God.” That pulsating ache immediately returned to my crotch.

Miss Laura had changed into a black vinyl dress that appeared to be three sizes too small. Her large breasts looked as if they would break the crisscrossed straps that held them back. The skirt didn’t really exist, as the dress just stopped above her hips. Her arms were well-toned from what appeared to be years of weight training. Veins along her forearms and biceps were visible and cut abs could be seen at just underneath her DD chest. She had kept the dark thigh-high stockings and the red heels on her chiseled legs and stretched shiny black elbow-length gloves onto her hands. I am no small guy, but she looked like an Amazon warrior that I wouldn’t want to piss off.

She came closer, stopped a couple yards from me, and cocked her hip again.

“Well?” she demanded. That wicked smile was back, and her eyes wandered over my body before settling on my restrained, jumping junk. “I’d say one of your brains approves.”

I think I nodded. I may have said something brilliant like, “Duh, yeah,” for all I know.

Miss Laura came closer and replaced the crop to its place on the wall. She stared into my face as she drew close. I looked up into her eyes and felt her hand clamp down on my balls.

“Aw!” I let out. The pain settled into the pit of my stomach. She lessened her grip after a few agonizing seconds.

“Poor baby. Did that hurt?”

I nodded and just breathed. I felt sweat rise to the surface of my forehead.

“I hope you’re not going to be a wimp about a little light squeezing,” she said. “Well, let’s see what I have to work with here.”

I watched in fascination as bent her knees and dropped. Those dark eyes never left my face as she unzipped my fly. I stared right down the strained valley of her cleavage and was convinced the too-small vinyl would tear. The muscles in her thighs were impressive as her knees parted, and a powerful hand pulled my seven-inch erection right through the parting in my briefs.

I gasped and felt dizzy as her gloved fingers curled around it and gave a slow, light pump. I pushed my hips forward, but she removed the hand and stared at the throbbing cock.

“Not bad,” she allowed mildly, and moved right and left to give it a close visual inspection. “I’ve had bigger.” She bent lower to look at my balls and took them in a palm. I tensed, thinking she’d squeeze them again. She did, but not painfully. “Nice balls. Full.”

I couldn’t say a word. Those vinyl-trapped tits hypnotized me. Her touch put me in a trance.

She wrapped her fingers around my cock and pumped. Just as slow, just as light, only this time repeatedly. Her eyes watched my face as she continued stroking.

I tried not to, but I groaned. I never had any woman make me so wanting and lustful so quickly. I visualized my cum spurting onto her chest, her mouth, her glove. To my increasing embarrassment, I realized that the urge to do just that was materializing itself deep within my testicles. If she kept pumping, she would have me and it was barely a minute. I didn’t know how she was doing it. Muscles deep in my groin stirred out of my control.

Without knowing it, my mouth dropped open in an ‘O’ and my eyes grew wide. Miss Laura witnessed it all and let go of me immediately. A look of disappointment washed over her face; her lips formed a pout that made my heart beat faster.

“Oh, gawd. You’re not a preemie, are you?” she asked, annoyed.

I stuttered for an answer, but was cut off.

“Jesus, I thought you were banging that bartender slut, Kristie,” Miss Laura added and sat on her haunches. Her chest heaved as she breathed and shook her head. “When’s the last time you had this thing in her? A month ago?”

I explained that it had only been a couple of days. It was true. I had fucked Kristie good, giving her two rocking orgasms and blasting my load on her chest. Just like I was visualizing to do right then on Miss Laura. I focused on one of her nipples. It had hardened and was well-defined by the stretched vinyl dress. My cock danced and a drop of precum made it to the tip.

“Bullshit!” she exclaimed, and wrapped her thumb and forefinger around my scrotum. She pulled down and bent to look at the blushing duo. “These nuts are brimming!”

I grunted deeply. Her downward tug stretched my foreskin. My cockhead mushroomed and turned blue. I watched as veins pulsated and her eyes studied her effect. I think it was turning her on, but it was hard to tell. She blew cool air on my helmet, and goosebumps exploded all over my body. I had to look at the ceiling. That feeling of approaching orgasm returned as she gave the shaft another soft stroke.

Another stroke sent me counting the panels and vents. Another one. Another. Her grip tightened a little and she gave another pump. Sweat dripped into my eyes and I shut them completely.

“Look at me, Sammy-boy!” she ordered, and pumped me again.

I bit my lips and looked down. She was beautiful, and seeing my reddened meat in her restrained grip made my heart race even faster.

“You’re gonna cum, aren’t you?” she asked with a smile. Her mahogany eyes glinted in the light.

I nodded vigorously, never taking my eyes from her slow-moving hand. My scrotum tightened and so did the grip of the hand around it. Pain rose to join the impending pleasure.

“The thing you need to understand, Sammy-boy,” she said through gritted teeth, “is that you don’t cum without my permission.”

Despite her words, my organs were working against me. I strained against the sensory input Miss Laura’s hands were performing, but I knew all I could do was delay the outcome. I closed my eyes again and turned my head back to the ceiling.

“Look at me!” she screamed.

I did. My eyes teared at the strain. I was going to cum after just a few minutes of light hand play and I seemed to have no way to avoid it. Other than…fucking begging. “Please, Laurie−”

“Miss Laura!” she shouted fiercely, and pumped faster.

I was doomed. “Miss…aw fuck!” Another slip.

“What did I say about the language?!”

Mercifully, her hands left me. My cock danced uncontrollably. The approaching orgasm still threatened, but the stimulation stopped. I shut my eyes and concentrated on holding it back. What I didn’t see did hurt me.

Whap!

I yelped in pain. The crop had come out again. This time, Miss Laura struck the top of my cock.

“That’s for swearing. Now apologize.”

“I’m sorry.”

“What’s my fucking name?”

“Miss Laura.” Precum dripped onto the white vinyl tile. I decided right then would be a bad time to remind her of the no-swearing guideline.

Her demeanor calmed immediately and she smiled. “Now you’re learning.”

I didn’t know what to say. I was just grateful that the pain drove the orgasm away.

“I don’t know, Sammy-boy,” she said and stood up. “You have a nice dick and all, but if it’s just going to shoot all over the place after a few tugs…” She trailed off and shook her head again as she gazed down at my cock.

My mind scrambled for something to say. I had nothing. This entire experience was new to me. I had never been at a woman’s mercy before and I was liking it for the most part. The embarrassment I felt over nearly blowing my wad would pass in time.

“Does Kristie suck your cock?” Laura asked and looked into my eyes. It seemed a sincere question.

“Yes. All the time.”

She stepped closer. I felt her heat. Her breath hit my face. Her eyes searched mine for lies. “How many times do you cum with her?”

“No more than twice,” I answered. “If I’m lucky.”

“What do you mean?”

“Kristie doesn’t have much of a sex drive. When she cums, it’s usually once and then she’s done.”

Laura frowned and became still. She was reading my eyes and face for signs of deception. “She sounds fucking boring, Sammy-boy.”

I sighed heavily and gave a nod. “Sometimes.”

She looked down at my dick and shook her head again. Her crossed arms pressed her breasts to nearly spilling beyond the vinyl trappings. My cock twitched at the sight. I’d like to think that tempted her to continue, but I’m just not sure.

“Well, I’ve got you this far. Let’s see what you can do,” she said, and turned to the cabinet.

I gulped hard when I saw what was inside, but I was determined not to disappoint.

Published 7 years ago

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