"Fuck."
"Don't swear." Jenny's best friend, Amy, perched at the end of Jenny's bed, calmly polishing off the last of Jenny's double chocolate chunk ice cream. Normally, Jenny would eat half of it herself, but the date she had planned, was not like the others she'd been on. Jenny was not a prude, but her fantasy of a dominant male lover was about to come true. This was not a time for ice cream, but shoes.
"May I ask what the hell it you are doing?" Amy asked, while she waved her spoon in the air. It looked Ay was casting a spell with a magic spoon for a wand.
Jenny plastered on an overbite smile as she nabbed a wayward high heel, "Pardon me, Miss Perfect, I can't find my black underwear. Where the fuck are, they?"
"You have what? Fifty pair now? Why does it have to be this particular pair?" Amy stuck a spoonful of ice-cream into her mouth. How that woman stayed a size four at fifty while eating a steady diet of crap, always amazed Jenny.
She thought about the answer why was it this pair? "I don't know, they make me feel...sexy." It was the best answer she had. Nothing in her life was the way she'd imagined it in her mid-forties. She'd turned out okay, was happy, healthy and complete, but she wanted... Sex. She wanted hot sex, with the man she was going to see. Maybe sane was not on her list of accomplishments, but she was excited for tonight.
"Oh, whatever, you can feel sexy in anything. "Amy flipped her hair. "I pronounce you, sexy and kinky."
"Gee, really? You think?" Jenny shot back. "Now get off your ice-cream stealing butt and help me find my freaking undies."
"Do you mean, these?" Amy held up her spoon in triumph, Jenny's black lace panties dangling from the silverware. With a flick of her wrist, Amy lobbed the errant panties off in Jenny's direction. Half prepared for her friend's antics, she reached up, snatching them from the air.
"You are going to make me late."
"And you're horny, but that's not new either. What are best friends for?"
Jenny stuck her tongue out and headed for the door. "At least I'm not elbows deep in chocolate ice cream, anymore."
Jenny ducked out of the room as the spoon thwapped the wall next to her.
"Have fun sweetie."
"I always do."
An hour later Jenny pulled up outside the boutique hotel Michael had booked for their date. A date with a purpose. She'd met him weeks ago, and a few coffees and lunches later, he'd asked her out overnight. A hotel overnight, a man and a her. A fifty-something divorced mom of two. What the hell had she been thinking? The valet smiled as she pulled up, it should have reassured her, but the lump in her throat stopped the, "thank you," that rose automatically. Nervous, she felt so nervous and nerveless.
Her phone buzzed, Amy texting her. "How's the hotel?"
"Schmancy." Was her text back.
"May I help you?" The receptionist seemed warm and friendly, neat in her uniform and perfectly polished fingernails.
"Yes, I'm, um," Jenny cleared her throat, "here to meet my boyfriend." Was her voice shaking? Crap, that was the last thing she wanted, to sound as nervous as she felt.
"Yes, he's waiting for you in the bar." The woman's smile was sincere as she pointed in the direction of the bar. Have a nice evening. Jenny smiled. She intended to.
With a small smile, Jenny headed toward the bar and what she had quietly told herself, was her fate.
Jenny stood at the entrance to the hotel bar and swiped her hands across the skirt of her dress, for what felt like the hundredth time. She was a wreck. Cold and clammy was not the greeting she'd planned for Michael. Confident, cool and collected, had been the strategy. Oh well, the best laid plans...
Her go-to attitude, in the face of all things nerve-wracking, was to dive in and experience life. Maybe her attitude was on vacation tonight. She was not feeling at all like the strong woman she was normally.
Michael sat at the bar, looking confidant and sexy. He was not tall, he was not broad shouldered, but his presence commanded attention. With a drink in front of him he was speaking to the bartender in his usual easy-going manner. The man had a skill for effortless verbal exchanges. Probably why Jenny was happy to go out with him as much as she did. He looked so calm; how could he be? She was a wreck inside. He waited, in seeming calm, but the slightly predatory look in his eyes when he noticed her, felt and very male.
He was waited for her. Handsome. Older, salt and pepper hair, in theory, exactly what Jenny wanted, but tonight would test her theories. Probably proving her wrong. "Please don't make a total ass of yourself, Jen." she whispered.
She dropped her shoulders, unclenched her jaw and walked with purpose toward Michael, her fate, whatever this was.
"Hi." What a lame greeting. She smiled to cover up her nervous hello.
Smiling, Michael rose, pulling the bar stool for Jenny to sit in one smooth motion. "Would you like a drink? It might loosen you up."
Jenny wasn't sure a drink would loosen anything, but her tongue, but she nodded anyway. "Expresso Martini."
He ordered another drink for himself and her martini. Jenny sat awkward and nervous, until the drinks arrived. At least she had a straw to play with. Maybe that would cover her nerves? Probably not, she thought.
His gaze, arresting, brown eyes, intense and masterful. He was so... so alpha. The weeks of texts, phone calls, casual coffees, had not prepared her for tonight's invitation.
"You look lovely."
She blushed and looked down, "thank you."
A finger reached her chin and pulled her face up towards him. "Never lower your eyes in public to me. I want to see your eyes. You may save that for private time."
Jenny could only nod, the lump in her throat felt constricting, making words difficult.
"Take off your panties and hand them to me."
Jenny felt her eyes widen. "What?"
"Take your panties off and hand them to me. I'm not going to ask again."
The implied threat in his voice made her want to challenge him, say no, but Jenny was not about to tempt fate more than she had. Part of her wanted to run, not step into this world of fantasy she'd imagined for years. The part of her that wanted this man, rose from her seat, only to feel a hand on her shoulder, pressing her down.
"Where are you going?"
"To the bathroom, to take off my panties." It came out as a whisper, childlike, a bit scared.
"No, take them off here."
"No, I..." His eyes. The intense stare did not waive. She gulped.
"Okay." With a quick glance around, Jenny reached to the bottom of her dress, with a nervous glance to make sure no one was watching, she slipped her hand up her thighs and to her black lace panties. Slowly, trying not to be noticed, she pulled them down, inch by inch, until she'd wrestled them to her ankles. Reaching down she balled them up and placed them in his waiting hand.
"Thank you. I prefer you comply the first time, but I do enjoy watching you squirm. Are you ready to obey me?"
"Yes."
"I can't hear you."
His fingers reached up, touched her face, running down her jawline in a sensuous caress. They stroked her cheek, with kindness and gentility. She felt her jaw relax; her nerves still. The butterflies still danced in her chest, but she felt far more comfortable than when she walked in.
"Yes." This time her words audible, but her voice cracked a bit.
"Good girl."
Oh God that did it. Her thighs dampened with her need for this commanding man. Her breathing shallowed, desire curled in her belly like a contented cat, and purred.
"Come with me." With a hand to her back, they rose together and walked out of the bar.
Jenny could not think, see straight and had no idea how they managed to navigate to the lovely, quiet hotel room, got in the door, and stood before the bed. She looked at the room. Nice, small, but quiet and lush with thick pillows and an oversized bed. A bottle of champagne chilled in the corner. She glanced back at the bed and gasped. The thing looked like a sex toy shop. She didn't even know what half of it was for and the other half? She didn't want to know. Well, maybe a little.
Without warning, his arms locked around her from behind. One held firmly across her chest, the other hand enveloped her throat, and placed gentle pressure on her neck.
"Tonight, your body is my toy, and your pussy is mine. I will do whatever I want to you and you will cum for me, over and over, as I allow it. Do you understand?"
She nodded against his hand. Excitement beginning to overtake her fear.
"I will not allow you to leave until I'm done playing with you. This is your chance to back out. Take it or leave now."
She answered by leaning into his body, pressing her ass to his semi-erect cock in his suit pants. The hand at her throat tightened slightly.
"That is a very good girl. I'm going to enjoy this. Whose pussy is this?" The hand around her throat moved down, pulled her dress up with a yank, exposing her naked lower body to the air in the room. A finger lazily traced the outline of her vaginal lips, then moved over her clit, making her throb for more.
"I asked you a question. You will answer me."
The hand wrapped around her chest moved, fingers pinched her left nipple, there was nothing gentle in his touch this time. He demanded an answer.
"Yours, it's your pussy, your body. I'm your toy." She breathed it, barely above a whisper.
A finger moved slowly over her clit, enticingly, seductively. Her hips began to move with the rhythm of his hands. Her head dropped back, legs parted, and she sighed in delight. No one had touched her, besides her, there in a very long time.
His hand stopped, while the grip on her nipple tightened into burning pain.
"You will cum only when I allow you to. Do you understand me?"
This time he did not wait for her to nod. Fingers moved against her pussy, slipping in and out of her. She held still, tried to stave off the orgasm that had been building since they first met, weeks ago. The first kiss, every text her, the sexual need that this man burned her with, had grown into desire for what she could only describe as sin. Fine with Jenny, she was no angel, and this felt foreign. A few random fantasies and now this? She had to be crazy, but as his scent filled her brain, she was too far gone to think of anything but wanting to be naked for this man. All she wanted to do was cum. Feel the waves of orgasm flooding her. His hand stilled.
"You're a needy slut. I like that."
Jenny heard the smile in his voice, feral, hard, but the feeling it left was intoxicating. More than the drink in the bar had been.
"Tell me what you desire?"
"To be fucked."
He chuckled. "Not good enough. I want to hear you beg for me to take you, any way I want to. Beg me." His voice a low growl in her ear.
"I want to be whatever you want. I am your toy, your plaything, your whore. I want to be your slut." Her voice, who was that? It dripped with sex, need, want.
His finger began its assault on her clit again. "I like a compliant toy. On your knees."
The hand on her nipple moved to her shoulder, pushed down, forcing her to kneel.
She heard the whisper of his zipper, the soft thud of his shoes hitting the floor. She turned to look.
"I did not give you permission to look at me. Eyes forward."
She reluctantly turned and cast her gaze to the floor.
