Unraveling the Barista Part 2
The main conference day turned out to be the most tedious experience I've ever sat through, with 2000 teachers crammed into a single hall, discussing classroom issues. This year, it was being held in the picturesque county of Dorset, in Southern England's charming town of Bournemouth. I decided to attend this conference to revisit some childhood memories; Bournemouth was where I spent many vacations with my parents when I was a child.
My most cherished memories involved fossil hunting with my father, who's sadly no longer with us. Revisiting those days on the beach, feeling the sand squish between my toes brought back vivid memories of him. I sat alone, reminiscing about the times we spent hunting for fossils on Bournemouth Beach. Back then, I would run up to my father, so excited with an ancient brick or rock I'd found, eager to share it with him. By a happy coincidence, he'd buy fossils from local stores and pretend I'd found them, deepening my love for these trips. I could feel tears welling up in the corners of my eyes as I remembered him.
I longed for joyful days with my little sister on the beach while our mother called out, telling us to be cautious. My childhood dreams of re-experiencing these moments with my own children were dashed when life led me in a different direction, my career progressed and I never got around to having a family. Professionally, there was no space for family life, but watching children play in the sea beside me now, I found myself missing opportunities I could have had. Thankfully, lunchtime was around the corner, giving me a much-needed break from the monotonous speeches.
The conference hall had hosted many political parties catering for tens of thousands, so preparing lunch was easy for staff. My colleague, fellow lecturer Arthur, fetched our drinks from the bar while I secured a table. Arthur was a great guy, a 'real man' if I may say so - strong, dedicated, and amusing. His body resembled a proverbial shithouse. He was single despite being charming and popular, which caught me off guard considering his attributes. Arthur wasn't the ideal husband material for me, but he'd do as an occasional lover.
When he returned with two large red wines, I ordered two more to be delivered in 30 minutes. Heck, the line at the bar was long, so this would save time. Arthur, though large, waited patiently without pushing to the front. Relieved, I imagined we would both avoid the dull speeches during lunchtime.
My order was superb, possibly the best chicken curry I'd ever had. "That was excellent!" Arthur exclaimed, wiping his mouth with a napkin. "I'd like it if you took charge more often." His comment made me smile.
I suggested there was a flyer for a talk by a psychiatrist in the afternoon brochure he held. "Just what we need, another damned psychiatrist," he replied, amused. He looked genuinely happy with my response, causing a smile to dance across my lips. The brochure slipped from his fingers revealing that the talk would be given by a teacher. "Professor Helen Harper," he added, pointing out the name in the brochure. I murmured, "She's a teacher."
He explained Professor Harper was the mother of one of his students and was asked to speak at this conference a week ago.
"Helen Harper," I mumbled underneath my breath. I knew Helen - she was a fellow cyclist, and I perked up at the thought. Arthur noticed my sudden interest, pointing at the brochure, "Do you know her?"
"Yeah, Graham, my student, mentioned she's a cyclist and will be speaking today," I confirmed. A grin crossed his face as he joked, "I was joking about the psychiatrist, but it's not my style."
I mentioned how Professor Helen Harper had been invited to give her talk, and Arthur's eyes were now lining with laughter. "Sorry," he chuckled, stuffing the brochure back into his bag. "I couldn't resist it." Holding the brochure once more, he shook his head, clearly still amused. "But honestly, you might enjoy it – I might give it a pass."
As I read through the afternoon information card, "Professor Helen Harper, from 3-5, a talk about students post-lockdown," I felt my lips part slightly. Arthur watched my reaction and, seeing the mixture of happiness and intrigue in my face, he raised his brow. Finally, he set the brochure aside and our topic of conversation shifted.
I arrived at the hall thirty minutes beforehand to secure the most advantageous seat for a clear, up-close view of her. Only a couple of cleaners and a pair of young teachers were present at the time, greeting me with friendly hellos. I chose a spot front and center, ensuring my eye level was with the stage podium. I settled in, putting my bags under the seat.
The room soon began to fill up. Surprisingly, though, only the first six or seven rows filled up. It made sense as, aside from geeks like me, who would want to hear a lecture on psychiatry and the psyche of students.
Helen entered the room with a bundle of papers. She was warmly welcomed by the audience with their applause. She was more captivating than I anticipated; she was not only attractive but much more alluring than expected. I guessed she had to have had her son when she was barely a teenager.
"Hello everyone," she began, leaning into the mic. "I'm Helen. It's a pleasure to meet all of you. Today, I'll be discussing the students' dilemmas following two years of the pandemic, with a particular focus on the lockdown year."
She shuffled her papers, selecting one.
"Personally, I have first-hand knowledge of the situation. My son experienced being locked up and let out the entire year." This comment made me think of my predicament, and my mind wandered off into darker thoughts.
"We were together both at home and at school." She continued on, and everyone around her changed tremendously because of the pandemic, just like the rest of us.
People murmured and exchanged glances, nodding in agreement.
"Yeah, I spot a few of you out there who've had similar situations," she said.
Helen made a strong impression on the stage. She was captivating and maintained the audience's attention for the next two hours. The time flew by, and I was left wishing we could listen to her for another couple of hours.
Following her presentation, I met Arthur in the bar. He had our drinks ready, and launched, "Well, how did she strike you? Did you learn anything new?"
"She was phenomenal," I responded, excitedly. "Phenomenal."
"And you thought she was sexy, huh?" He winked at me and chuckled.
"Fuck off, mate!" I joked, before adding, "It looks like you're onto something if I were a man."
"If I were a woman, I'd feel the same way!" he responded, laughing even louder.
Some of the bar-goers glanced at us. One of them was Helen Harper, accompanied by one of the event personnel. The organizer thanked her for adjusting her schedule and accepting her invitation to speak at their conference.
When Arthur saw her, he waved and bid a hello. Helen nodded and smiled as she acknowledged us.
"You know her?" I inquired.
"Yes. I did mention her son is in my platoon. Shall I arrange an introduction?"
"Please," I whispered.
He grabbed me by the arm and guided me through the crowd.
"Hi Helen," he greeted. "This is my dear friend Abi. Abi, Helen Harper," I extended my hand, shaking it gently.
"I recall seeing you in the hall," she said. "You've indeed held my attention."
I was struck by an intriguing sensation, comparable to meeting a celebrity. My throat tightened, rendering me speechless.
"Don't worry about her," Arthur said. "She's just awkward."
She playfully smacked Arthur's arm but added, "You mean it so it's not insulting."
I stepped up and stated, "Art, you're a wanker occasionally."
He responded with a large grin, knowing his innocent joke was unacceptable.
The three of us spent the rest of the evening socializing, sharing laughter, and having drinks, as if long-standing friends. I told her about my student, who was doing well. Afterward, Helen, Art, and I agreed to have a meal at the hotel restaurant later.
Helen was staying in the bridal suite, with the hotel providing her the room as gratitude for her appearance at their event. Arthur and I returned to our rooms to get ready. I took way too long, wanting to be at my best since she was a high-stakes competitor. When I finally arrived in the lobby at 8pm, I was fifteen minutes late for our rendezvous.
As I laid my eyes on Helen, I was left breathless. There was no way I could compare to her beauty, even if I spent a week at a beauty salon. She was beyond stunning, wearing a designer ballgown, shoes, and bag. Her appearance left everyone in awe, women included, as she strolled by.
Our table, situated next to the entertainment stage, was arranged for us by the maitre d'. Arthur opened the chairs for us, acting like a true gentleman.
"Ladies," he said charmingly.
Helen chuckled as she sat down, "He just wants to get lucky."
Our conversation largely consisted of discussing her son, Graham, and his achievements in school and on the field. As the night progressed, I found myself drawn to Helen, liking her more and more. However, I felt slightly uneasy about the topic of Graham, knowing what had occurred only two days prior.
I had had Graham tied to my St. Andrew's Cross, thrusting into him as he pleaded for release. It was difficult to act unaware of his existence, while at the same time, hiding my deepest desires.
I probed Arthur, asking him if everything was all right.
"She asked if you were single and if you were seeing anyone," he shared in a hushed tone.
Helen has a preference for both men and women, Arthur confided. They maintain a secret relationship, though they remain discreet to protect her son.
Hearing this, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy. But I dared not cross a line with her, not knowing her limits or what crossed them.
By the end of the evening, we had formed a close connection, and I switched the topic to more mature subjects. We revealed our mutual affinity for alternative pleasures, and Helen mentioned her recent purchase of sex toys.
"Do you enjoy watching this?" I inquired nonchalantly, gesturing toward the stage.
The room fell silent, other than Arthur's struggle to breathe from his slice of apple pie.
"What did you ask?" Helen inquired innocently.
"I simply inquired if you'd ever engaged in a threesome." I responded casually.
The air grew tense as both Arthur and Helen stared at me in anticipation.
Under Helen's guidance, Arthur had purchased a vibrator for her that morning. I admitted, hoping to spark a reaction, "I might be able to help her choose some more selections."
I took both of their hands, one in each of mine. "It's decided," I announced, "I want to fuck both of you tonight."
Art, visibly distraught, coughed up a piece of apple pie.
"Allow me to fix you a drink," murmured Helen, maintaining her composure.
As I took a napkin and wiped my hands, I suggested, "The bridal suite should meet our needs beautifully."
The night progressed, with Helen devouring my pussy with a voracious appetite. Arthur remained partially clothed, watching as she feasted on me.
Meanwhile, I examined his impressive cock, which stretched over ten inches in length and nearly as wide as a soda can. The sheer size of him left me scrambling to contain my shock.
"He's rarely able to find a woman big enough to take him," I revealed.
During this confrontation, Arthur's member throbbed with life, becoming more engorged with each second. The pressure caused the veins on the shaft to bulge, only adding to its massive presence.
Feeling daring, I proposed, "Let's resume our conversation in the bridal suite."
Helen enthusiastically agreed, gesturing towards the bedroom.
Upon arriving in the bedroom, Helen knelt by the bed and placed her hand under my dress. "I've missed you," she confessed quietly.
Finally freed from my clothing, Helen began exploring my body. I turned my attention to Arthur, focusing on removing his pants. There, dangling from his thigh was an enormous appendage. I'd never encountered such a sight before - it was almost unbelievable.
With trepidation, I inquired, "How long does it normally get?"
"Not many women can handle him," he replied.
As his dick swelled even more, I could only guess it would easily surpass a foot. His girth rivaled that of a soda can, rendering him a spectacle.
"Everybody talks about wanting a huge cock, but trust me, it's not as great as it's made out to be."
I watched in awe as Arthur's sizeable member grew from a half-formed bud to a fully-grown one, just like the apple on his head. My jaw dropped in disbelief as I pictured how Helen would react to it.
"She can take you?" I was genuinely shocked.
"After some prep work and after I've fisted her." He nonchalantly replied.
Helen chimed in from between my legs, "She can take you, huh? How about when you're fisting me while she devours my pussy, Harold?"
"Shut up and lick Helen," I teasingly told her.
My Dominatrix instincts had vanished, replaced by a mix of awe and slight fear. The sight of Arthur's brawny body overwhelmed me; he easily weighed more than 20 stones, covered from head to toe in sculpted muscles. His arms were the same width as my waist, his shoulders shaped like balloons, and even his six-pack was incredible, with sharp veins marking his chest.
"Show me how you prepare her," I asked, curious.
He moved away from me, and I admitted to myself that I viscerally failed to let go of his impressive phallus. Arthur bent down behind Helen and sank his massive face between her ass cheeks. I felt what he was doing over my face, and she responded. Helen moaned in delight, and the pleasure sent shivers down my spine.
I gently broke free from her mouth, and she flipped over on all fours. I shimmied under her until my bare face stared up at her at a closeness that gave access to both of our dripping pussies.
Arthur delightfully switched between us, but I was now eager to see and help maintain her arousal, rather than be the focus. I pulled her face toward mine, steadied it on my vulva, and dove into her mouth, tasting her combination of juices.
Then, I sucked on her pussy, desperate to help women please her, and she instinctively followed suit.
"Have you fisted her yet?" I asked, kind of unsure of what to make of his preparation.
Helen apparently understood our little play by play, as her body tensed.
"I'm fisting her," he said, and I felt it visually.
I heard her shout in pleasure, so I crawled out from underneath her. I was presented with a gyrating woman. Her orgasm was visible, her pussy was practically dripping, and her moans filled the room. My Katharine, she had more experience?
I rolled over to lie on my back and she straddled my face. Arthur's hand slid in and out, creating lungs of sound and a mix of wet noises that made me shiver. I wanted to taste it at this close a distance, and reached an outstretched tongue; her clit popped out as I licked and sucked.
Helen twisted her face above me, making our lips meet, and eagerly sucked on my clit. Her kiss was sloppy but tirelessly attempt to deepen our connection, and I loved the sloppiness of it.
"Do you like it?" She asked.
"Yes," I moaned.
As Helen hammered her hips, I watched Arthur's fingers disappear roughly inside her, even saw his fingertips disappear from sight as he fisted her. Helen squirmed vigorously as she reached her peak, shouted in pleasure, and squirted her juices straight into my face. She was an impressive woman, showing me a side my subs had never seen and couldn't surpass.
Her back arched, and she almost seemed to break at the waist, pained and in need, so I didn't mind it so much.
"I think I'm going to squirt now," she groaned as she was completely overwhelmed with pleasure.
Great, direct aim at my face...
I pushed my hips backward and just barely managed to avoid being covered in her juices, but not entirely.
I witnessed my first fisting experience. I was usually the one fisting my subs, and this was one hell of a preparation. He was quick, passionate, and interested. As I watched, his hand moved in and out of her seemingly futilely, but I had to see his precious movements up close. Her hands grasped me in a vice and on instinct, I took her to my mouth. I gave her orgasm full attention, as Arthur's movements were grotesquely enticing and visceral.
She squirted into my face as he rapidly thrust into her. I tried to roll away from her flow and sucked on her clit as she reached her orgasm. She moistened my lips and sucked onto my clit with the attentiveness of a pro, I watched this massive guy's forceful practice from up close.
She struck her own orgasm, and noise echoed my own gasps as I came. However, his hand disappeared with a wet smack when I moved away, and my head swiveled, revealing his masterpiece: the monster that could violently stretch her insides. As Helen's body pulled him in and he supported her, this powerful phallic entity seemed to enter her with a cavernous snap.
The sight was terrifying, yet exciting; it quickly became my responsibility to prevent it from hurting her. But Helen, Katharine, and I still had content to consume. [Helen initially wasn't aware of my dominatrix side, so I couldn't blame her; it was time to reveal it, I pushed myself away and watched them.]
Her massive cock was something else! It seemed like it had grown even bigger and thicker than my arm. Her lips were swollen and red, she must have been unable to handle it, right?
He grabbed her hips with his large hands, each palm could have covered both of her cheeks comfortably. He handled her roughly, like a ragdoll - her tiny frame probably felt as lightly as a bag of feathers to him. He slapped her ass, getting her into what I assumed was his favorite position, doggy style.
Her pussy was completely open and her lips were red and swollen as he lined up the head, with a size the same as a mature apple now. It was deep and a dark, dark mauve in color. I had no doubt it wouldn't fit. I was speechless, watching what could only be an amazing scene.
He didn't push, which surprised me. Instead, he used his mighty hands to hold her hips and slowly pulled her down on him. She gasped for air as she drew the head in. It seemed to slide in her body, but she couldn't take much more.
The eyes of mine were tearing up in sympathy for the pain she must have been feeling as he slowly pushed one inch of those inches into her body. His knuckles turned white from his powerful fingers massaging into her hips. Her face contorted in agony, but he didn't seem to mind. I sat on the bed next to them, his hands looked huge next to mine. They covered half of her backside. I spread her cheeks apart and watched as he slid in another inch, making her gasp sound like a scream.
I counted eight or nine inches inside of her, because there was still five or six inches of cock left. To my dismay, he pulled out again until just the head was inside.
"Get it back in!" I yelled in fear that he was going to pull out completely!
My shout startled him, because Arthur just smiled wickedly and pushed in again. She started rolling her head from side to side, so I rushed to her face, fearing something was wrong.
"She's okay," came his deep voice. "She's just getting used to him."
I see a confused expression on her face, a mixture of pain and pure lust in her cheeks, it was a face I'd seen many times, a face that had belonged to me. My concern faded. Her hands gripped the sheets tightly as she hissed in pain. I moved back and placed my hands behind her back, ready to support her.
"Slowly, ah, go slow," he whispered, but his thrusts went further in each time she yelled for more. I didn't have much control, so I steered her to pull me closer, I rubbed between my legs and found pleasure. I sneaked under her as he thrust into her, feeling the aching wetness of her pussy. Her hood was stretched way beyond its normal size closer to her clit, it looked severely painful. His massive balls were a short distance away from my face and I couldn't resist, I took them in my mouth. He immediately put his hands over my head, but he didn't push them down, maybe he enjoyed the sensation of her clamped between his balls.
I wrapped my hands around her waist, holding her tight against my chest while she struggled against his thrusts. All the while, her pussy opened and closed around his cock, like in a dreamy sex scene. Finally, he went all the way inside her. She exhaled deeply, as if she'd been holding her breath the entire time. If I didn't know better, I would have sworn I could see her stomach expand outwards as he gave another thrust. Her head faced the ceiling, her mouth open in a silent scream of pleasure, and she bore down on his cock with her clenching pussy.
I observed her for a moment, then I caressed her hair and kissed her cheek. She was drenched in sweat, her eyes staring blankly. She dragged her fingers along the side of her face - traces of tears and toxins flowing like rivers from the corners of her eyes. I remembered that no one can incur the pain for pleasure forever, but it would have been for the best if this could last eternity.
My gaze was drawn back to her as she moved slightly, rubbing her own ass against the wooden floor, still attached to the raging thrusts of his massive cock. I still held her buttocks and admired the view of her spread legs, the sight of her pussy soaked in his seed. I could tell she still had a moaning groan left in her when she said,
"Slowly, ah...go slow."
She was breathing heavily, much like I had seen women during advanced stages of labor do, and he continued his thrusts. I felt her head between my thighs and her mouth over me, yet she was experiencing the pain of being split apart while attempting to provide oral pleasure. How could she focus on both at the same time?
I clung onto him as he entered her, his movements more forceful now, and he was sliding in and out with greater fluidity. Deeper and deeper with each thrust, each time displaying at least 7-8 inches above my face before slamming back forcefully. How did she bear it, and how was she evidently enjoying it?
She was screaming into my pussy, gasping for breath between her cries, as her tongue darted across the target but missed repeatedly. Despite this, I was tantalizingly close to climaxing.
Suddenly, Arthur thrust forcefully and froze, his guttural grunt was audible and his semen began pumping over the edge of the fleshy bulge less than two inches from my nose. It happened quickly because he hadn't been engaging in intercourse with her for more than a few minutes, which might just have been a good thing for her. I observed in astonishment as the perineum pulsed his hot sperm from his body into hers, she shuddered as I latched onto her mouth and stimulated her clitoris.
She let out a primal sound, an unprecedented noise I hadn't heard before or since. Her body jerked and quivered through three to four minutes of intense, prolonged orgasms.
He began shifting and the realization struck me that I would be inundated with a flood if I remained in place. I attempted to move, but her body and his weight combined held me pinned. The erection above me separated from its prison and landed with a crashing impact onto my face, it was warm and sticky with her juices.
Suddenly, a cascade of their combined fluids was ejected from her and into my mouth, nose, and eyes. As a mistress, I was shocked and offended by the indignity of the situation; as a woman, I had never been more aroused in my entire life!
It only took a gentle touch of her mouth as she lowered herself onto my sex to trigger an explosive orgasm within me. At that moment, I couldn't care less about my undignified state, lying there smothered by their combined fluids, I was pulsating with pleasure.
It had been a long time since I'd had sex for my own pleasure and without a hidden agenda. I relished the feeling of the chilled afterglow without having to slowly bring someone back to reality, this was for my satisfaction.
Helen was still sore after their intimate encounter, a result of what I could only term as a grueling experience. She was certainly a "size-queen." Yes, it surely provided some pleasure, but it caused much more pain than pleasure, accepting such a massive penis!
I chuckled to myself. The situation sounded very reminiscent of my work as a mistress.
As they stepped into the shower together, I was invited to join, but I declined. Three of us would have been too many, and my personal feelings wouldn't allow me to become too conventional. I seized the opportunity to explore her enormous suite. It was far larger than my room. A kitchen, a lounge area, a dining room with a luxurious mahogany table and chairs, even a dressing room connecting to the bathroom where Helen had hung her clothes. She had refined taste, with many renowned designers displayed in her wardrobe.
The small table held a pleasant picture in a silver frame. 'If only he knew,' I thought. It was Graham - my submissive. If not quite yet, he would soon be there.
I could hear her grunting again from the shower room. Surely not already? I peeked in to find Arthur on his knees and nestled between her legs beneath the falling water. 'Nice touch,' I thought. He was offering solace to her after the enormous piece of meat between his legs nearly destroyed her.
I dressed quickly and gathered my unused clothing, exiting to indulge in a solitary shower in the privacy of my own space.
It was the final day of the conference today, and there was a day off scheduled. I decided to stroll along the beach and reminisce about old times. My parents had taken us onto the pier to play the carnival games as children. It was nostalgic to see the classic attractions still existing.
The elderly fishermen were lining the beach, casting their rods into the turbulent waters. I caught a glimpse of the individual in the bright yellow plastic coat, recalling his presence from my childhood. His smile made me feel comforted.
The main path by the pier entrance was something new for me. I hadn't been there in years, but it looked amazing! There were restaurants, parks, walkways, and tiny huts where tourists could buy all sorts of souvenirs. The place had changed so much since my younger days, and I thought it looked fantastic. Maybe one day I'd choose to retire there and come full circle.
While I was sitting on a bench, reminiscing, Helen texted me.
"Are you okay? You left without saying goodbye last night."
I replied, "Sorry, goodbyes aren't really my thing. I enjoyed last night. Maybe we'll catch up at school."
I mused over whether to say "love" or "best wishes" or something else, but in the end, I signed off with my nickname.
I wondered if she'd call me back, but she didn't. It hurt a bit to think she hadn't contacted me.
Art suggested he'd love to see more of me, but I said no. "You go jump in a lake because I'm not letting whatever that thing of yours near me." He also told me that Helen wanted to see more of me.
"Why didn't she contact me?" I asked Art.
"Not my problem," he said. "I gave up trying to understand women."
That night, I had a client to see, so I had to put thoughts of Helen away. Tanita was the client, and she was a sweet girl from Columbia—a friend of Cath's and someone I had talked to a few months ago. She was in Manchester on business for two days, so she asked if we could get together for a couple of hours. The evening was fantastic, and Tanita gave me all I wanted from a sub.
Since she's a switch, Tanita tried to bring me what she thought I wanted. But what she thought I wanted wasn't exactly what I desired. By the end of the night, I had drained her, and she had orgasmed many times more than she ever had before. She could truly take a lot of pain for someone her age. I thought she'd be an outstanding mistress someday.
Being a mistress is all about control; about controlling the pain you can inflict on a sub to encourage them to give up all resistance. Only when they realize they're totally yours do I allow them to relax and experience release and orgasm.
We chatted after, and I gently brought her down. She said she needed to learn to take the pain in order to give it safely. I agreed. It made sense, but it was hard to believe she'd wanted that experience just for the sake of it. She told me about her usual Dom, Master Luke. He was one of the three Doms I'd seen at the BDSM club in Newcastle a few months ago and had made quite an impression. He had taken an attractive middle-aged woman and made her lose all control in front of many spectators in under 45 minutes. Many women wanted him afterward, but I'd have been the first in that queue if I were a sub.
Tanita said her Dom was thinking about opening his own place and was looking for investors and skilled kink practitioners. She told me Cath might be interested. I figured I should talk to her later.
During a school day, my phone beeped. It was another message from Helen.
"Let's have lunch"
I checked it again in Marley's, while I was having my coffee with Graham.
"Double sugar, double cream, ma'am."
"Thank you, Graham."
"Miss, can talk later?"
"About what?"
"It's a little awkward here. Can I come to your place after work?"
"Sure, but only for a little while. I have someone coming over at 7 pm."
"I'll be done by 4 o'clock. Wait for me while you finish your last class and drive me home." He teased.
I smiled, then said, "Alright, but don't make this a habit." I replied.
At 4:45, I saw him waiting in the staff parking area next to my car from my office window. I thought, "I'll give him another 20 minutes to wait."
Twenty minutes later, with my briefcase in hand, I walked to the car. But he was gone. I realized he'd been hiding behind a nearby wall.
"Miss," he said, bowing his head slightly.
"Get in." I ordered. "Let's not attract any attention."
The drive to my house was silent. He seemed uneasy and unsure of himself. When we finally arrived, I waited for him to start the conversation, but since we were almost there, I stayed quiet until we were indoors. I said, "Want some coffee?"
"Yes, miss."
"You know where everything is and how I like it. Make us both one." I added.
In the living room, resting my feet on the couch, I said, "Coffee?"
He seemed relieved and immediately brought cups and some biscuits on a plate.
"You can keep the biscuits." I joked.
"What? But I thought you liked them?"
"I used that line to get rid of Gareth once." I explained.
Blushing, he replied, "Sorry, ma'am."
"It's okay, but it'll serve as a reminder not to get too complacent, huh?"
After serving the coffee, he sat down on the sofa next to me.
"While you're there, Graham, my feet are so sore from standing all day," I said.
He looked startled and immediately placed the coffee cup on the table. Taking my foot in his hands, he massaged them. His strong fingers were gentle as they slid under the nylon of my stockings, rubbing them between his fingers.
"Should I take off your stockings?" I asked.
"No, Miss! No. It's okay. I like the feel of your feet in them." He said calmly.
"It sounds like your mom has a crush on one of the lecturers from the recent seminar. You know, the one my boss hosted along with Mr. Roberts." He said, looking down.
I sighed, "I think that was most likely me."
"Really? Oh dear." He said, looking up at me.
"You know my mom's dating life is like a bingo wheel. She brings someone home every so often but it's nothing to alarming. I know she needs company."
He continued massaging my feet, "She's been talking about this lecturer she met during the seminar last week. I believe it's you...ma'am."
"Yes, it was probably me." I confirmed, watching him.
"Mrs. Gordon has been telling me about it. She's really fond of you, and I'm not sure how it'll affect you guys at school...and us."
A worry crossed my mind. I thought, "She really likes you. I mean, she really likes you." It felt surreal.
I waved my foot, "What if she asks me to lunch?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"I like her, but I'll tell her no. If that's what you want."
Graham started crying.
"What's wrong, Graham?" I asked, cradling his chin in my hand.
"Miss...I'm sorry...I'm just so stupid." He sobbed, a few more tears rolling down his cheeks.
"Graham, you won't lose me. You're not a fool, you're kind and considerate. That's appealing to me, but understand this: we're not in a relationship. You're not a client; I am your mistress, and you'll do as I instruct. If you want things to continue, follow my commands without hesitation. Do you comprehend?"
He nodded silently and murmured, "Yes, mistress."
"Leave now, return home. I'll see you tomorrow."
He picked up his belongings and exited, ten minutes before Catherine arrived.
"Are you insane?" she exclaimed, when I informed her of my predicament.
"I've done some crazy stuff in the past, but sleeping with a mother and son isn't one of them. And he's a student! A student! Bloody hell, babe, you could get fired or even arrested for this."
"I know, I know, but I want him and her. The problem is, I desire both of them. They remind me of each other. What should I do?"
Cath pondered thoughtfully and emptied her glass of white wine in one gulp.
"Can you absolutely guarantee they won't spill the beans?"
"As close to certain as possible," I replied. "He's not the type to spread gossip."
"What about his mum? What if she discovers?"
"I know." I said somberly.
"I've done something foolish, but he's hot and I'm craving him. But I also want her, and they're so alike – I know she'd do anything I requested."
Cath stroked her chin, offering me her empty glass to fill, and I could sense she was contemplating a solution.
"Okay, this could save the day." She grinned. "You think she's a submissive, too, right?"
"Yes." I said.
"Tell her, suggest lunch, and inform her you're a Domme. Tell her you'll take her to places she's only dreamed about. If you're correct, she may already have guessed, so she's come to see you. If you're wrong, she'll leave, and the crisis is averted."
"And Graham?" I asked.
"If she becomes your sub, she's yours to control. She won't reveal anything because of her position. If not, break ties with him."
On Thursday, I encountered Helen in town at a cozy Italian restaurant, arriving half an hour before our planned time and secured the table I wished. I lingered to grab her my preferred seat and ordered for us both in advance.
I sat at a well-lit booth, with enough seclusion so other patrons couldn't overhear, and took note of the door. When she walked in looking exquisite in her fitted light grey business suit, matching heels and hosiery, I waved and beckoned her over. She was reminiscent of Audrey Hepburn, with her hair neatly tied back in a bun, a Channel Purse under her arm, and a subtle sophistication.
We shook hands, exchanging a friendly greeting, and my curiosity about her was piqued. She wore an appealing skirt ending just below the knee, perfectly matching the colour of her hose. Her heels were optimal, not too high or low, and her jacket accentuated her curves, revealing just enough of her bosom through her tight-fitting top.
"I've organized a small lasagna for us both – I hope you like lasagna?"
"Excellent." She replied agreeably.
I'd ordered a premium house red wine for us, delivered promptly as she settled into the booth.
"Why did you want to meet again?" I inquired, trusting her to initiate the conversation.
Her blue eyes surveyed the area before she replied, "Yes."
"I can't get you out of my head since Bournemouth." She confessed, glancing around discreetly. "I haven't slept a complete night since then without thinking about you."
"Me?" My curiosity peaked. "Not, er, the large object he performed with last time?"
She blushed slightly and said, "He is. He's, um, you know, gifted… down there."
"Yep, he is." I said, bashfully.
"We see each other only once or twice a month, keeping my desires in check. It works well for us." She stated.
"Desires?" I queried, ever- curious.
"They're intense," she eagerly explained.
"To be clear, 'intense' probably means very horny and in need of sexual fulfillment?"
"Yes, exactly!" she exclaimed. "I'm desperate for you."
As a single mother, I constantly have my time occupied by my son, which ultimately puts my personal life second. He's a good kid, but he still needs my attention, leaving me with little time for myself.
I nodded and said, "I understand, you must be busy taking care of him."
"No doubt." She replied. "And then there's you. You're always in my thoughts. Plus, you have the best pussy I've ever tasted." She whispered the last part, squeezing my hand tighter.
I contemplated responding for a moment before finally deciding on being straightforward. "You should know that I'm a Domme."
She sat silently, clearly caught off guard. "I can give you a few hours a week," I continued. "From your behavior, I can tell you're a submissive."
She abruptly stood, pulled her hand away, and left abruptly as the meals arrived, not even glancing back. "Not how I planned it," I muttered under my breath.
When her phone number appeared on mine, I didn't answer during class. Instead, I texted back, "In class, call at 3pm."
I made sure I was at Marley's during her scheduled time, sitting at my usual table when the call came through. Graham was seated across from me, sipping his coffee. "Hello?" I answered calmly.
"Ok." Was her response.
"Ok, ok what?" I questioned.
"Do you want me to leave for a moment?" he asked.
I shook my head. "No."
"Is there something more?" she asked hesitantly.
"Perhaps you thought about what I said?"
The phone grew quiet for several seconds. "Yes." She said softly. "Mistress." She whispered. Her pronouncement stirred something within me. "I'll text you my address," she said. "Be there at 8pm tonight." I terminated the call and placed my phone between us.
"Are you okay?" he asked. "You look a bit flushed."
"There's a storage room here," I responded, leading him into a nearby room with bags of coffee beans. I explained the strong smell of coffee was an additional turn-on. We engaged in oral sex for ten minutes, with Graham lapping at my pussy before having him finish off himself on the floor. "My son must never find out about this!"
Her first words upon entering my lounge were, "No one, no one will ever know."
"Exactly," I agreed. "No one will ever know."
She admitted to being prim and proper during the day but threw herself into debauchery at night. She agreed to my demands, signed a legally binding document, and contributed a thousand pounds for my time. This was going to be entertaining if I played it right.
About a week later, Helen was in my playroom, shackled to a St Andrew's Cross. I used a soft leather flogger with her for twenty minutes before moving on to paddles. Knowing that she could handle a large dildo in her anus, I decided I'd use her backside instead.
The room grew quiet with tension. I knew her limits and she liked indulging in pain. I'd indulge in giving it to her. "You know how much I love using you."
We spent time detailing what I expected of her and what she could expect from me - limits and rules. She revealed she was a prim and proper woman during the day, but at night, in her personal life, she liked to be a whore, used and abused. She pledged to follow my instructions and agreed to all of my conditions.
She signed a legal waiver and paid me £1,000. The combination of her vulnerability and sex drive proved to be an exciting combination.
Four days passed and she was tied to the X-frame once more, paddles leaving an intoxicating scent. Her submissiveness was unparalleled, and she begged me for new tools and toys. I readied her anus for a large toy, using restraints and a paddle on her body.
Finally satisfied, she begged for me to end it and get dressed. As I put on my outfit, she asked, "Can I use you painfully?"
"I can return the favor," I replied, smirking.
With each lowering of the cross, I could position myself tantalizingly between her open legs or lie atop her for mutual satisfaction. I had discovered that Helen enjoyed demeaning words during anal sex, as evidenced by her lustful moaning when I named her a slut and similar terms. In our second session, I incorporated a vibrating machine that excited her anal region with a larger dildo spinning at 120 revolutions per minute. Due to the high rate of rotation, she experienced 3-4 orgasms from the attached vibrator beneath her clitoris.
As the last orgasm approached, I spoke softly in her ear, "Envision Graham witnessing you here, naked and receiving this as the slut you truly are."
Her body reacted with another ecstatic response, convulsing as it never had in other partners. Given the strength and volume of her reactions, I was thankful for the playroom's reinforced soundproofing. As keen as I was on the prospect, she managed to stun me with the discovery of a shared fetish for incest. The realisation called forth a whirlwind of possibilities for our sessions in the future.
Following the orgasm, I took her to a period of relaxed recuperation, providing over 90 minutes of aftercare and escorting her toward a state of preparedness to return to her home. I requested she return the next Saturday at 7:00 P.M., informing her briefly of a possible friend's presence - but she seemed apprehensive. By the intensity of our previous scene, I felt certain she would perform any act I requested.
I craved a man after this session, so my need for intercourse drove me. The machine's vibrating function slightly fulfilled this need, but it wasn't a genuine replacement for the real thing.
Saturday
Upon re-entering my bedroom, I found him unmoved from his previous position. His back and ass bore marks from my actions. Luke's cock was in a rock-hard state, likely resulting from helplessly seizing orgasm in the meantime. The half-empty whiskey glass I saved from their shared encounter lay near his chin, filled with his semen.
I exchanged it for a fresh one, aware of hisdire warnings.
While he lay motionless, his eyes blinked to adjust to the light. He hesitated and then began to open his mouth, seemingly about to utter a phrase, before abruptly changing his mind.
"Breathe your ejaculate in, Graham," I instructed him. "Breathe it in before I force you to."
He remained quiet, but tears began to well up in his eyes.
"Open," I directed firmly. "One word other than green, amber, or red and you'll endure five more blows of the cane."
The black executor nodded violently.
He complied, drinking my ejaculate with eager relish, and used his tongue to lick any excess off the insides of the glass. His face was released from the bondage as the hood and gag were removed. I playfully teased his engorged cock with a crop a few times before I departed for the playroom. I had administered a small blue pill two hours prior, ensuring his cock would remain completely erect.
In the playroom, Helen was in the same helpless state as before. Constructed specifically for rotational use, the custom St Andrews Cross stealthily pivoted in the middle of the room. Still gagged and hooded, her legs and wrists bound, Helen awaited my whim. Her attire consisted only of these restraints and nothing more.
She was still susceptible to whatever I chose.
Helen's body was aching from the intensity of the toys inserted inside her. Both a small vibrating butt-plug and a larger vibrator were left on full power, causing her to writhe and moan mindlessly. Visible marks of previous thrashing by cane and flogging were displayed on her back, showing her ability to withstand more pain than her son.
"Helen, I'm planning to introduce another toy in a moment or two. Would you like that?" I asked cautiously through the black hood and mask.
"He will fuck you, he will fuck you hard, he will fuck you really hard." Her gagged reply sounded.
"Huhm," she gasped with a groan.
"Are you agreeing Helen?" I teased, knowing she had no other choice.
I took hold of her chin, pushing it through the hood, and addressed her, "Once I remove the hood and gag, you will remain silent. A word other than 'Green,' 'Amber,' or 'Red' comes with severe punishment. Do you comprehend Helen?" Her head nodded wildly, mirroring her son's actions earlier.
She blinked, adjusting to the light exposure, and I proceeded, "I've invited a friend to the house - a trustworthy man. He will soon enter the room, and I'll allow him to fuck you. He's clean and will have his way with you; he'll violate you as hard as I allow. Understand, Helen?"
She nodded and whispered, "Green." I put back the gag and mask.
Bundling Graham's bare feet with tight ropes, moving him from the landing to the playroom was also a challenge. The vibrator in his backside and the task of transporting his overly hard erection made it way more difficult than anticipated. Graham grunted, struggling to keep from spewing a second load, but did his best to keep it in check. When we reached the playroom, Graham still managed to drip precum on the floor.
Almost stumbling, we stopped short of Helen's feet. Both Helen and Graham lay entirely in the dark without awareness of the other's presence except for the noises made by Graham's shuffling. I grabbed the ropes from her wrist and fastened them to a hook I had previously installed near the ceiling.
"Graham," I said looking intently at him. "There's a blindfolded woman before you. Both hoods and gags should remain, but you're to have sex with her. Penetrate her anus, hard and fast. Last for one minute only. If you don't climax in that minute, I'll strap a dildo to my own waist and anally violate you. Understand?" He nodded hurriedly, eager to participate in this forbidden activity.
With my arms, I pushed him close to her, his penis brushing against her anus. I swiftly lined him up, saying, "One minute." I anticipated witnessing the full display of incest right in front of me.
Restricted by the bonds, Graham's hands were stretched above his head, making his movements slightly limited. I grabbed his swollen cock, maneuvering it toward Helen's back door until it touched her sphincter.
"Start," I urged, pushing him in half the way. I held her backside firm to acclimate her to his engorged tool. Saying, "Go." He thrust rapidly, enjoying the pressure around his sheer size in the limited time I had allotted. Helen moaned hysterically, her head twisting and writhes noises transmitted through the gag, unclear whether they were pleasure or pain filled.
"Thirty seconds," I intoned impatiently, nearly panting.
"Forty-five seconds......time!"
Fumbling to pull out, he grunted as his pulsing cock slipped out with a moist "plop" and a gasp from her.
"Nnnnggghhhh." Misery replaced the sounds of pleasure we had grown accustomed to.
He struggled fruitlessly against the bonds, trying to get a better grip on his cock to penetrate Helen's sexless void with difficulty.
I positioned the head of my dildo between his legs and beneath his testicles, causing him to raise up on his toes. I spoke softly in a malicious tone.
"You got your shot, now it's my time."
I ripped the tape from his backside, ripping clumps of damp strands of hair with it and causing him to shriek, vomiting through the gag. The vibrator flew from his anus and landed on the floor.
I guided him back to his mother's rear, positioning the soft tip at her entrance, but held his hips to prevent him from fully thrusting. I coated my body in ointment and lined myself up as well as feasible.
Releasing his hips, he instinctively thrust into her, creating a scream so animalistic, so primordial that I almost experienced sympathy towards her until that sob came out as moans of unquestionable satisfaction. With each extraction, I aligned my toy appropriately, and he slid back onto me with an audible groan. He strived to flee but had no room, and he attempted to pull away from me but in the process, I pushed him back onto her.
Seizing the opportunity, I held onto his hips and forcefully thrusted into him, producing him to draw in his last breath. I positioned my arms around his chest and began to engage in him steadily, making him thrust into her. As he slid in, I slid out, and as I slid in, he retreated, establishing a rhythm.
Helen was convulsing beneath us, reaching climax repeatedly. She still had that noisy vibrator in her vagina as her backside was savagely assaulted by her son. She felt oblivious to the incestuous act they were performing.
"Just imagine if your son was penetrating your tight ass!" I yelled at him while we were engaging in intercourse. An audible grunt and a groan arose from them both.
"Oh fuck, how disgusting would that be... Helen!"
Immediately he ceased and stiffened.
"Hmmmmppphhh, hhmmmmpppphhh." She was moaning in ecstasy while battling to move her bottom back onto the motionless dick inside her.
He then groaned through the gag and began climaxing. His body trembled and shuddered under my touch, and shivered from his toes to the top of his head as his climax exited him.
Helen was moaning incoherently and feebly attempting to move her ass back onto the still pelvis.
I was the first to speak.
"My, that was fantastic. Just imagine if that were truly mother and son?" I said, trying to sound convincing. Both moaned and groaned through their gags.
Graham backed away from his mother once I released myself from him. His cock was still erect.
I pushed him into my bedroom, leaving his wrists and ankles bound, but removing the hood and gag.
"Miss, that was the most extraordinary encounter I have ever, or likely will, have. Thank you."
"Remain here for 15 minutes, stay inside." I said.
I left him to attend to his mother. She was in disarray, and I aided her in standing. I took her to my main bathroom where I had filled a bathtub with a scented bubble bath 45 minutes prior.
"New towels are on the bar." I indicated towards them.
She barely acknowledged what I was saying as she cautiously reclined, the water covering her inflamed, glowing breasts.
She raised her vision and muttered, "Thank you mistress, that was extraordinary."
"Can I leave you to rest for five minutes?"
"Yes, I'll be fine. Go serve your friend."
She exhaled and sank deeper into the water. I remained until she returned, just to make sure.
"Graham, use my restroom." I said as I reentered my room. He was still sitting on my bed, bewildered and spent.
"Please mistress," he requested, elevating his wrists. I gently unbound him and helped him into the warm flowing water. I left him unattended for a moment or two as I removed my own clothes and subsequently joined him.
"Did you like it?" I asked softly.
"Oh god," he said. "When you mentioned your mother, I almost lost it, but I've never experienced an orgasm quite like that in my entire life. I felt as though my entire body was being depleted through my tool."
"It was." I said, smiling warmly.
"Look, your piece is still hard." I whispered, cupping the soap and dildo in my hand and thoroughly cleaning it.
"Are you going to fuck me with it?" I asked, looking up at him.
For the next quarter hour, we engaged in passionate lovemaking, with me appearing more energetic while my partner was more comfortable, like an exhausted forty-year-old.
I gently placed him on my bed, catering to him like a parent would their child, before leaving to check on his mother.
Knocking gently on the bathroom door before entering, I found her in the process of drying up.
"You holding up okay?" I enquired.
"More than that!" she beamed. "You've just given me a remarkable experience - I've never felt so depleted. The pleasure you provided just took sex to a whole new level!"
"How about that incest chatter? Did you feel uneasy?"
"Abi...Mistress, it was phenomenal. As if I were experiencing my son's presence inside me, I got so psychologically involved that it felt surreal." She paused, "I'll need to return home and fully absorb what happened."
"Are you able to drive?" I asked with concern.
"Completely capable." She reassured me. "I'm worn out, but perfectly fine."
She smiled and expressed, "This was the best day I've had! Arthur set us up. What about next week?"
I was caught off guard by her eagerness, "Next week?"
"Mmm-hmm. And I'd also like your young guy to be there."
"Young?" I was taken aback.
"Oh, most definitely a youth, an older bloke can't rock it like he did. He was as hard as a boulder." She chuckled.
I wrapped my gown around me, and after helping her dress, I escorted her out to her vehicle. When I faced my bedroom, I noticed the curtains lightly moving.
Continuation in part three, uncertain.
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