A Lady Named Lynda

This story is completely fiction. All the characters, and events, came out of the imagination of the author. Any resemblance to any person living or dead is purely coincidental, and was not the intent of the author. There are no persons in this story under eighteen years of age.

A very rich woman makes a sex toy out of a poor working stiff.

Early Friday morning, I had an appointment for a job interview, in about one and a half hours. I knew I was way too early, but I also knew that is was better to be an hour early for a job interview, than two minutes late. Still though, an hour and a half was a bit too much. There was a coffee shop right across the street from the interview location. So I decided to have a cup of coffee to perk me up before the interview.

I walked in and had a seat in one of the booths. The waitress brought me a cup of coffee and a breakfast menu. While I was reading the menu, I had the strange sensation that I was being watched. I looked up and there in a booth across the aisle from me was a woman.

She was smiling at me and her stare moved from my face to my crotch and back again. Her smile was very inviting and she ran her tongue over her lower lip as she looked. It did not seem to bother her in the least that she had been caught staring at me, and she made no attempt to look away. Quite the contrary, she continued to watch me, with smoldering bedroom eyes.

She looked to be about the same age as me, in her mid twenties, with a very attractive face and body. She was dressed in a very fashionable and expensive-looking skirt and satin blouse. Her legs, what I could see of them, were attractive, and tapered nicely down to her ankle. Her breasts were about a C+ cup and were trying to push their way out of the blouse.

It seemed very strange, the way we both looked each other over. She was definitely having an arousing effect on me; I could feel my cock responding in my trousers.

She seemed to notice this as well, her head gave a slight nod, and she reached into her purse, and took out a pen and a scrap of paper. She wrote something on the paper, and dropped the pen back into her purse. She left some money on the table to pay her bill, and started to leave.

On her way out, she dropped the scrap of paper in my lap, and left.

After she was gone, I opened the paper and read, "CALL ME AFTER FIVE," her phone number, and her name, "LYNDA."

I put the scrap of paper into my pocket, and made up my mind: I was definitely going to give this beautiful woman a call.

By the time I finished my second cup of coffee, I was about a half hour ahead of my interview time. I left the coffee shop and headed across the street for the interview. When I arrived, the receptionist told me to have a seat and she would tell the personnel manager that I was there.

The interview went quite well, I thought. I was asked about my education, and job background. We talked about the job, and what the requirements were. I felt I was qualified to do the job. I told the personnel manager I could start right away, and he told me they would notify me if I got the job.

After the interview I went back to my apartment and finished a few housekeeping chores, waiting for five o'clock.

At about five minutes after five, I called the number that was on the scrap of paper. I heard a woman's voice answer, "Hello." Her voice was soft and deep.

I replied, "Hello, is this Lynda?"

"Yes, it is. Who is this."

"My name is Gerry. We sort of, well, half met, this morning in the diner."

"Oh yes, I remember. I was wondering if you would like to have dinner with me this evening."

"I would be delighted. What time would you like to meet?"

"How about between six and six thirty this evening? Would that be a good time for you?"

"Yes, that would be fine with me."

She gave me her address, and I noticed that it was in a very exclusive part of town.

I hung up the phone, and headed to the shower, and then put on my very best clothes. After that, I drove over to the address she gave me.

The house was a two-story brick home, in the middle of a one-acre lot, with gardens and a manicured lawn. As soon as I saw the place, I was just, awestruck. You see, I was just a poor working stiff, trying to get by from payday to payday, and right now I was unemployed and didn't even have a payday. This girl, though, must have millions to live in such a house.

When I took a look at this house, my self-confidence was shot to hell. Instead of turning into the driveway, I parked my fifteen year old car on the road, taking care that it couldn't be seen from the house.

I walked up the long horseshoe-shaped driveway. I knocked on the door, half expecting it to be answered by a tall snooty butler, with a British accent and a lordly manner.

Instead, the door was opened by a very pretty young woman, in her early twenties, with a bright smile, and a stunning face and figure.

"Hello," I said smiling at her, "I'm here at the invitation of Lynda."

"Oh yes sir," she said, "we've been expecting you. I'm Susan, the maid. Come right on in and have a seat in the parlor." She escorted me into a large warm comfortable room, and pointed to an over stuffed, leather chair. "I'll let her know that you are here," and disappeared through another door.

While she was gone, I examined the room more closely. It actually oozed with luxury. There was a large granite fireplace, with a log burning on the log-rack. In front of it was a giant polar-bear skin, with the head still attached. The room was furnished with very expensive-looking chairs, and other luxury furnishings. On the walls hung oil paintings that looked very old. Although I'm no art expert, I did recognize the styles of some of the great masters. The floor was hardwood, but covered with Persian rugs, hand woven into intricate and colorful patterns.

I knew that even if I had a pair of white gloves, I would not find a speck of dust, and the woodwork and floors were polished to a high shine.

Instinctively, I kicked off my shoes, to be sure that I would not scuff the floors, or damage the fine rugs.

While I was still admiring the room and furnishings, a sultry voice behind me said, "Hello, Gerry, I'm so glad that you could make it."

I almost jumped out of my skin, I was so startled by her voice.

"Dinner will not be ready for a few minutes, so I thought that we could chat, and get to know each other until then."

I turned to face her, and was pleasantly surprised to see Lynda. She was dressed in a powder-blue cocktail dress cut a few inches above the knees, with a plunging neckline that revealed quite a lot of her ample breasts. Her honey blond hair tumbled down around her shoulders, and her sky-blue eyes sort of twinkled as she gazed at me.

"Yes, of course," I said, "that would be great." I stood and waited until she seated herself across from the chair I was sitting in.

"Would you like a drink, Gerry? I was about to have a Manhattan myself."

"Yes that would be fine," I said, trying not to look too nervous.

"Susan," she called.

And the maid reappeared at the door. "Yes, madam," she said, with a slight curtsy.

"Two Manhattans please, very dry."

The maid acknowledged the request, and then disappeared once again through the door.

While we were waiting for our drinks, the two of us made small talk. She asked me how I came to be in the diner earlier that morning.

I told her that I had a job interview for a large corporation, in the office building across the street from there.

She sat listening, with a strange smile, on her face. Lynda looked from my face, down to my crotch, with that strange smile never leaving her lips. Every couple of minutes, she bent forward, to give me a better view of her cleavage.

In a few minutes the drinks arrived, and were set on the coffee table in front of us.

I took a drink of my Manhattan, and found it perfect. I began to relax just a little. I'm no expert on bar tending, but I'm sure the drinks were made from the very finest of liquors.

Lynda picked up her drink, and took a long slow sip. All this time her eyes never left me.

I began to feel as if I were a church mouse, being watched by a hungry cat. The cat was just about to pounce on me, and after playing with me and amusing herself, then devour me.

Lynda picked up the cherry on a stick and put it to her lush lips. She licked it for a while and then sucked on it, her eyes regarding me the entire time.

I tried my best to stay calm, but this teasing little bitch had her toy for the evening, and she intended to extract all the pleasure she could from the moment. My manhood was steadily growing in my trousers, and after finishing with her cherry show, she stared at my crotch and slowly licked her lips. Damn, this woman was hot, and she was playing with me like I was her private toy.

There was a tap on the door, and the maid peeked around it, and announced that dinner was ready.

Lynda stood, and showed me the way to the dining room. I stood, and escorted her to the table. The table had chairs for twelve people, but right now there were place settings for two. I pulled out her chair for her, and then had a seat at the only place setting left, directly across from her.

As soon as we were seated, the maid came in with a large platter, holding two thick steaks. Next came a bowl of rolls, then vegetables, and two baked potatoes, and a red wine.

Everything was done perfectly for my taste. The steaks were not too rare, or too well done. The vegetables and rolls were great, as was the baked potato. After the dinner, we both enjoyed a glass of wine, while we waited until the dishes were cleared away.

I was starting to relax, when I felt something move up the inside of me leg. Lynda had kicked off her shoe, and was playing her toe up my leg. Finally she reached as high as my crotch, and traced the outline of my once again growing penis.

I looked into Lynda's face and she had a sultry expression, "Mmmmmm, I think I know what I want for dessert," she whispered across the table.

"Oh my god," I said, "I just can't believe this is happening to me."

"You haven't seen anything yet, Gerry. Wait until I get you into my bedroom, or should I call it my playroom?"

Once again the maid came into the dining room, and started clearing away the dishes. "Will there be anything else, Ma'am?"

"No, I don't think so," Lynda said. "After you finish cleaning up here, you can retire for the evening. If there is anything else I want, I'll call for you. Otherwise I want to be alone in private with this gentleman."

All this time, Lynda's foot never stopped massaging my privates through my trousers. I don't know if the maid knew what was going on, but I do know that Lynda really didn't care one way or the other. She was a woman who knew what she wanted, and always got what she wanted. Right now, she wanted me.

When we were alone again, she asked me, "Would you like to see the rest of the house?"

"Sure, I would love to," I told her. And stood, coming around the table, I pulled back her chair for her, when she stood. She led me from room to room on the tour. I lost count of how many rooms. There was a library, with fine leather-covered books. A laundry room, a sewing room, and three guest bedrooms. And a billiards/cardroom. There were two pool tables: one an English billiard table and the other, an American style pool table. Also, I saw three card tables.

"Would you like to shoot a game of pool?" she invited. "I don't know what we could play for, maybe strip pool," she giggled. "I bet I could have you naked in five games."

"It has been a long time," I said, "I think you are probably right."

She grinned, then said, "Later, maybe," and led me out of the room.

All of this, and we were still on the ground floor.

"In the back there is a swimming pool, Jacuzzi, tennis courts, and the stables," she said.

She came to a final closed door, and she told me. "In there are the maid's rooms. There is a bedroom and bath, a small kitchen, and a living room with a TV and computer for her entertainment."

I was very impressed, to say the least.

"That is all the downstairs; would you like to see the upstairs now?"

"Yes, thank you very much," I said.

We walked up a spiraling staircase together.

There were more guestrooms up there. With king-size beds and bathrooms. All of them even had walk-in closets. There was a gym that was loaded with expensive equipment. And there was even a room with a massage table off of the gym. "I have a massage therapist come twice a week," she told me.

"And now," she said, "the final stop on our tour." Lynda opened a large door, and stepped aside, so I could enter. "Welcome to my man-trap," she smiled, as I entered the room.

I stepped through the door, and all I could say was, "WOW." The room was large, and decorated in pink, red, and white. The floor was covered with a thick soft white carpet. The walls were covered with mirrors, from ceiling to floor, all around the room. They gave the room the appearance of being even larger than it really was. Drapes hung from ceiling to floor over a large window/glass door onto the balcony. There were three large dressers around the room with two matching side tables, all colored pink. In the center of the room was a California-king-size round bed. The sheets and pillows covers were red satin. It had a bed spread that looked like white mink. The room had indirect lighting, and with the touch of a button the colored lights could be changed in seconds, to bathe the room in any color of the rainbow.

It was a mantrap alright, and Lynda was the bait.

She looked at me with a disarming smile. "There is one house rule, I forgot to mention earlier: no one is permitted to stay in this room while still clothed." She sat on the bed looking at me with smoldering eyes. "Since you are the guest, you get to undress first. Go slowly, though; I like to enjoy every second of a male strip tease."

I looked down into her angelic face. My penis was fully aroused by now, and so hard it hurt. The bulge in my trouser crotch did not go unnoticed by my beautiful hostess. I started with my necktie, as she requested I made a big production about removing it. Next came my shirt. I opened one button at a time, drawing it out for as long as possible, working my way down. I slipped the shirt off and dropped it into her lap. Under the shirt was a white tank-top. I pulled it up, and over my head. I could hear her take in a sharp breath at the sight of the hard muscles of my back and chest. I flexed them a little, and was rewarded by her smile of approval. My shoes were already gone, and the socks were easily removed, without much ceremony. Now it was the trousers' turn. I slowly unhooked the belt and pulled it through all the belt loops. I could see the eager anticipation in Lynda's face as I reached for the snap at the top of the zipper, and pulled it loose. I took my time, to tease just a little more, but slowly I lowered my trousers. Finally I let them drop, and stepped out of them.

Lynda's mouth was literally watering at this point, and her eyes were locked onto my crotch, and the plainly visible bulge in my boxers.

I was working the boxers down my hips, when Lynda called out, "Wait! Let me take off your shorts, Gerry."

I moved over to her side on the bed, she reached over, and gently caressed the bulge in my shorts.

"Mmmmmm," she whispered, as she played with the bulge, using just her finger tips to trace the outline. "Well, hello there, little man," she said, in a tone that one would use on a small child. "You and I are going to have lots of fun later. I'm going to lick you, and suck you, then I'll introduce you to my special friend, Kitty." She laughed softly, then reached inside my boxers, and stroked him up and down in her tiny hand. This was too much, and yet not quite enough. Her fingers were giving me such pleasure, it was blowing my mind, but still not enough to allow me to cum.

After a few minutes that seemed like hours, she pulled the boxer shorts down my legs, and let them drop at my feet. Then Lynda got to her knees, but still on the bed. Her fingers were exploring my chest, and the rest of my body. She reached around my neck, and pulled my lips down to hers. Her tongue pushed on the outside of my lips, and demanded entry. Once inside, her tongue did a love dance with my own. Without breaking contact with my lips, she stood in front of me. She pressed her body into mine, and I wrapped my arms around her softness. Her fingers moved down my back. Finally reaching my ass, she was touching me everywhere. A finger entered my anus and pushed deep inside; she found my prostrate where all a man's cum is made. Tickling it, she was driving me mad with lust.

I started to move my hips in and out, pressing against her body.

Suddenly she stopped. And looked deep into my eyes. "No lover, we can not have you waste all that yummy cum on my dress. Not when I haven't had my dessert yet."

She pushed me down to a seated position on the bed. She stepped into the center of the room, and turned to face me. "You undressed yourself to entertain me, so I think it is only right that I undress for you."

The cocktail dress she was wearing was first. Around her hips was a sort of sash tied in a bow, Lynda slowly pulled one end of the bow, until it came apart. Then her fingers moved up between her breasts, to the top button. Slowly she worked the button. She toyed with it for a few seconds, to tease me just a little more. She worked the button until it was open. Then her fingers descended to the next button, she slowly undid that one as well. She worked slowly, button after button, all the way down her dress. She turned her back toward me, before she opened the dress and let it fall to the carpet. She was wearing hot-pink undergarments, a lacy bra and matching panties and garter-belt. With her back turned to me, as it was, I got to admire her perfect little heart shaped ass. She turned slowly to face me, and her beauty took my breath away. She was like one of those centerfold girls in Playboy Magazine. Lynda could easily be the playmate of the year, or the decade. She had the sweet innocent beauty of the girl next door. Even though I knew better than to believe the innocent part. She was swaying to some unheard music and only she could hear the beat. She was still moving like a snake, when she reached down and unsnapped her stockings from the garter. She rolled them down her beautifully shaped legs, and the stockings joined the dress on the floor.

All this time I was sitting on the bed, with my mouth open, I'm sure. It took all my will power not to grab my hard cock and give myself some relief.

Lynda continued with her sexy strip-tease. She reached up, and took the hook holding her bra closed, and started working it open. The bra came open, exposing two perfect breasts. She cupped them in her palms and pointed the nipples at me. Jiggling her breasts, she teased me until I could hardly stand it. She must have been turning herself on, too, because she dropped one hand down to her panties, and reached inside the band. I could clearly see she was fingering herself, inside her panties. From the grinding of her hips, I knew she was close to cumming.

"Wait," I said, "I want to take off your panties. After all, you took off my boxers, it seems only fair that I take off your panties."

She stepped over in front of me, and her silk panties were only inches from my face.

Instead of removing them though, I leaned forward and licked the wet spot on the front panel.

When I did this Lynda jumped, and gasped. "Oh yes baby, I love that kind of action."

Encouraged by her response, I pressed forward, and lapped her harder and faster.