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I met my Mistress six months ago at the gym. I had just moved into the area, transferring my club membership over from my former location. During my first month at the gym, I admired her stunning beauty quietly from a distance. Her exotically seductive face oozed with sensuality, and only countless hours of determined effort could have sculpted a body to such perfection. Strong women are a huge turn on for me. Especially slender, long legged, sexy brunettes like Dominique.
Although I'm in fairly good shape and still can turn an occasional female head, I'm completely out of Dominique's league. Being 15 years older than her didn't help bolster my confidence towards approaching her either. So each time she caught me looking her way, I would quickly avert my eyes. She was so damned irresistible, however, that I couldn't help but sneak a glance at her whenever possible. I mentally worshipped her.
One day we passed each other in an aisle. I quickly broke our brief moment of eye contact, and averted my eyes downwards.
"Excuse me," she said.
"Yes?" I responded, a bit surprised.
"I've noticed that you've been staring at me a lot. That's not very polite," she said.
"You're right. You're so attractive that I haven't been able to resist. I'm sorry. Will you forgive me?" I responded, averting my eyes downwards. I could feel my face flush.
"I might, if I find you so deserving, that is. My intuition tells me that you can be useful to me. Shall I continue?" she asked without a smile.
"Please do," I replied, taken aback by both her directness and seriousness.
"Not here. If you want to know more, meet me at the bar next door at 8:00 SHARP! Understand?" she asked.
"Sure," I eagerly responded.
Since it was already 7:40, I did fours quick sets of curls, then headed for the showers. I made it to the bar with 5 minutes to spare. I selected the most private booth available, and ordered a Guinness to calm my jumpy nerves. Dominique walked in at 8:00 sharp, just as the waitress came over to fetch my empty glass.
"What can I get you both?" the barmaid asked.
"White zinfandel," my date replied.
"Another Guinness," I responded.
The waitress quickly departed.
"By the way, I'm Paul." I said, offering my hand and smiling. She shook my hand with a strong grip, and introduced herself. She did not, however return my smile.
"Let me get to the point, Paul. As I mentioned at the gym, you may be of use to me. I think you might be the kind of guy that would enjoy pleasing a woman like me," she explained.
