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A Long Hard Night

It was the usual cacophony of sound, arguments and raised voices; competing with televisions blaring, at my local pub on Friday night. The atmosphere was thick, as each patron vied for service or to have their opinions heard; the air conditioning losing the battle with the sweating bodies of too many closely packed people. A typical Friday night at my local!

I was sitting quietly in a corner seat, observing the sweating masses, as I am wont to do, when the door flung open and in strode a goddess. There is no other way to describe her, since she carried herself with the dignity and regal poise of someone used to adoration.

The crowd at the bar, usually protective of their domain, opened up before her and one hastily vacated his seat and, blushingly, offered it to her.

Without acknowledgement, she sat tall on the barstool, her short black skirt riding high on her slim thighs, revealing shapely legs.

A silence descended, even the televisions, with their loud cacophonous sportscasters giving spurious statistics or opinions, were momentarily muted, as if in awe of her presence. Slowly she gazed around, assessing the customers as if making a choice.

Scrumptiously, I studied her: raven hair, high cheek bones, full lips, pert breasts pushing forward in a tight white blouse, narrow waist and long tapering legs.

I tried to imagine what was between those legs, shaven moist pussy, pouting lips and clitoris waiting to be engorged. I phantisized briefly of sucking on her clitoris and bringing her to orgasm, then shook my head in wonder and retreated to my beer.

Normality was returning, though somewhat still muted, when I felt a strange prickling in my scalp, a tingling sensation of being called. I looked up, meeting dark blue compelling eyes. She gazed at me for the longest time, eyes now a deep hazel or black in that uncertain light, assessing me, then finally, beckoned me over.

I looked around, unsure if she meant me, but her gaze allowed no doubt. Abandoning my beer, I crossed over and those few steps changed my life.

Indicating the stool next to her, miraculously vacated, she imperviously said “Sit.”

She then ignored me while finishing her Campari and Soda. She appraised me for a a full minute, as if considering her choice. Finally she spoke, in a throaty voice. “You will do, at least for now.”

Tentatively, I reached over and touched her leg. She reacted immediately, “Not now, bitch” and slapped my face. Thus began my humiliation.

She leaned down, rummaged in her large purse, and finally surfaced with a dog collar and leash in her hands.

Casually she gave the collar to me, saying “Put it on”. I balked at first, thinking, how humiliating, but after one dark look from her, I submitted.

She promptly attached the leash and said “Now we will go for an evening stroll”, and, much to my consternation, she led me out into the evening air on a leash, to the derision or envy of my pub mates.

In the parking lot I balked, thinking this is too extreme, particularly when she again said “Come along my little bitch”. Warning signs were flashing but lust was forefront in my mind.

Outside, she laughed, a tinkling of bell jars in a soft wind, soft upon the air.

Then she stopped and seemed to relent, she kissed me hard upon my lips, sticking her tongue deep within my mouth, grabbing my balls and massaging my still clothed prick. I felt myself meld and succumb to her charms. She drew me towards her white Audi and ushered me within.

“Now the playacting is over” as she released me from the collar, “That was just for show”. I felt comfortable on the leather seating as she drove. When she reached over again and grabbed my balls, I cried out with pleasure.

Arriving at her apartment, we parked and continued in silence in the elevator ride to her penthouse suite. An elderly couple boarded, ignored me, smiled and chatted as if this was a normal occurrence, while my face burned.

Her suite was surprisingly Spartan; white carpet, pale leather couch, glass topped tables, essentially understated but offset by a brilliant Van Gogh reproduction surmounted above the sofa. It was not a feminine apartment but, rather masculine, in its austerity.

Once inside, she led me to the couch, sat me down and began to devour me. That is the only way I can describe it, since she unzipped my pants, pulled down my underwear, stroked and then sucked my cock. I was not objecting!

As her silky lips caressed me, slowly at first, then a little faster, I rose and rose, until I was hard, harder than I had ever been before.

This was the best sex I had in a long time, in fact, I could not remember how long. I could feel myself approaching orgasm but did not want to come, wanting to prolong but she was relentless, as if consumed by a need to get it over and done with.

I could resist no longer and finally came hard and fast in her mouth, globules of cum spilling over her lips and onto her virginal white carpet. Her voice was harsh when she said, “Now that that is out of the way, we can focus on the rest of the evening”.

She smiled and said “Now it is my turn”.

I did not understand what she meant, but felt a slight thread of fear, like a drop of perspiration trickle down my back. Was it a warning! “Why don't you get comfortable and remove the rest of your clothes?” She said this as she began a slow and sensuous striptease, unbuttoning her blouse to reveal perfect breasts (she wore no bra), flinging it aside as if it was of no consequence, and then took off her skirt.

I paused in my denudement, to observe this extraordinary act .In all my life I have never seen such an erotic disrobement. She removed each item with such clear purpose, to excite or exhilarate the observer, but since I was the only one present, it was intended for me.

Finally she was reduced to her thong, bulging, as if something needed release. Then she caressed herself and deep down I knew, but was still in denial, refusing to believe what my instinct told me.

My reverie was broken by a harsh: “Are you ready?” Ready for what went through my mind, although I did not voice it.

“I have a surprise for you, kneel down and close your eyes”. I knelt and heard the rustle of her thong being lowered, then removed. “Open your eyes and gaze in awe!”, but there was a smile in her voice, although said without humour.

I opened my eyes and stared at a semi-erect seven inch cock. “But, but that's a …”I spluttered, unable to finish. “Yes, a cock, but do you like it?” she filled in for me. I had to grant it was beautiful, long, tapering and growing by the minute. I could not admit that, since I was still in shock, not quite understanding what I was seeing..

“Don't you want to caress it?” as if it was the most natural thing in the world. I shook my head vehemently in denial.

“Will you at least touch it?” Again, my head shook in negation.

“What am I going to do with you?” Once again I refused, in total bewilderment.

“Why are you being so recalcitrant?” I honestly didn't know, since it was the most beautiful cock I had ever seen, now eight inches and still growing!

There was a hunger in her voice now, a need to be satisfied and a quiet desperation. “Will you a least accept what I am?” There was a pleading in her eyes now, but something else, a primordial cry for understanding, but, most of all acceptance. She was between two worlds, neither male nor female, but beautiful nonetheless.

I looked in her eyes, deep and clear, to the very depths of her soul and felt my resolve waver, knowing her dilemma, and understanding finally taking hold. With extraordinary appeal in her eyes, she finally asked “Will you at least stroke it, accept me for what I am?” This final plea I could not refuse, so tentatively I took her cock in my hand and began my descent to perdition.

“Just try it, maybe you will like it” There was almost a cry in her voice, a plea from deep down. Then I knew that she was no longer in control, but I had taken ascendancy. I could now dictate the terms of the evening.

“Don't you want it?” I saw desperation there, hunger and pleading in her eyes but something else, a need for understanding, but, most of all acceptance. She was hurting like a physical wound, as she almost begged me.

Tentatively, I leaned forward, touched and then kissed the tip of her cock, then licked it from base to tip. It was velvety smooth and tasted of unconsummated love, no dried semen there, but rather of apple blossoms and fresh peaches.

Then again she took control, urging me on to greater endeavours. At first slowly, only licking the very tip, then descending, tongue only, until I engorged her totally. She instructed me in every move, almost choreographed, as I hesitantly followed her instructions.

“Lick only the tip, slowly, then all the way, tongue only.” I licked her from balls to tip in long sensuous motion. “Now, suck but only with your lips.” Her breathing became heavier as my lips descended and caressed her.

“You can take me deeper now, right into your throat! Do not gag, breathe through your nose, and withdraw very slowly.” I did as I was told, sucking oh, so slowly, beginning to enjoy something I had never done before.

“Yes, you are learning!” I was becoming more excited all the time, as I sucked her beautiful cock, thinking maybe this was not really bad and probably pretty good!

Her velvet eight inches entered my mouth, slid over my tongue and down my throat, never gagging, as I felt her length sink deeply.

Again and again, she stretched my mouth and throat as she fucked me deep and slow.

Suddenly, I was brought back to reality, when she said “It is now time for your penetration. I will prepare you well, but it may be harsh, but, if you relax, it may go more easily”

I awaited my fate, the oil on my asshole and naked finger or thumb rubbing it in, penetrating deep, plumetting the depths of my very being, lubing me to be taken.

I was being prepared to be anally penetrated and was afraid.

Fear took hold as I wondered if I could do this. I had never been fucked in the ass before; could I take it or would I balk at the first hint of penetration. I honestly did not know, but would soon find out.

“Bend over and kneel in front of me. Offer yourself properly as if you want to be fucked. Is that what you want?”

“Yes, Mistress”, I cried, now totally out of control.

There was a moment of silence as my words registered and, then an explosion of anger. “Never call me Mistress. I am your Master, always, just obey and follow my orders”.

I kneel in trepidation, not knowing what comes next, but she is already probing and prepping my ass.

She gently moved her cock back and forth across my ass, teasing it, never penetrating. Finally she begins her entry, moving ever so slowly, a little deeper with each stroke. She continued this motion for a long time, until, suddenly, as if losing patience, she plunged deep within me. I let out a cry of pain or was it pleasure as she penetrated to my very core.

She slowed, her rhythm decreased as she went deeper and deeper, exploring the very essence of my inner self.

In total surrender, I looked around and then noticed the mirrors strategically placed so that I could watch myself being fucked. They were carefully angled in such a way that I could see her every stroke, as she took me bareback; slow in withdrawal but plunging deep. It was strange to see yourself being fucked but, also strangely erotic.

I had never felt this way before; rock hard, wanting to come, urgently needing release. I wanted desperately to touch my cock, stroking for satisfaction.

She fucked me slowly with an energy borne of desperation, a need to come or a need to salvage a desperate image of herself.

With long strokes she fucked me hard and long, but as she came to climax she refused to come in my ass but saved her cum for my face and tongue.

Then she pulled out, demanding I open my mouth wide to receive her offering. I complied and accepted ropes of stringy semen in my mouth. She watched carefully as I swallowed every drop; it was salty but not bad, protein and probably healthy.

My ass, now devoid of cock, suddenly aching in its need for that big throbbing bone, pulsed and clenched at its lack of satisfaction.

“I have awakened something in you. You still have needs to be fulfilled?” I nodded in acquiescence.

“Well you will just have to wait until next time, if there is one.” With those words in mind I drifted off and was rudely awakened from my reverie when she turned to me and in a harsh voice said “You may get dressed and then leave.”

In shock and anger I want to reply, but am speechless, since she is now in control, transcending all inhibitions.

Dressing slowly, I blink back tears of frustration and anger, since she has changed me and I know I will never be the same again.

Blindly, I find my way home but cannot sleep thinking of that big velvety cock, so tantalizing and fulfilling.

I know that she has changed me but acceptance comes slowly. I am still a virile male wanting release, but somehow, different.

I hesitantly await her call, wander the streets, check every white Audi that passes, try to find her apartment but it is all to no avail.

Maybe I am just a lost soul! I am changed, wanting to meet such beauty again, but she is beyond my comprehension; maybe a myth in passing, maybe of the Fae or some unearthly race. I know not.

I want to meet her again and yet dread it.

A part of me wanted to return to a normal life, so, as the days passed, I relaxed, thinking this episode is over, I am over her. My relief was short lived when three days later I received a packet in the mail; unwrapping it I found it to be a video. With fumbling hands I put it into the player. It was as I expected, a replay of me being fucked by my she-male lover, but now with music added, a cacophony of sound, almost a mockery.

I shook out the packet again and found a cryptic note.

“I may need you again. Be ready at a moment's notice, ass in the air, ready to receive!

Maybe you should bring a strap or cane. I sometimes like asses to be reddened before I penetrate them!

Your one and only?”

And so I await her pleasure; wanting, yearning, yet dreading my new fate.

*****

Analasis.

2014.

Maybe to be continued?

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