Liz was 45, or "ish" as I never asked her age.
Long smooth chestnut hair that fell below her shoulders she was just over 5 feet tall and had gravity drying C cups and strong athletic legs consistent with her medium frame which led to the most wonderful bubble butt.
"Take my shirt off." Standing there she had to stretch to get it over my head which exposed her sides and wonderful tits.
"Stop! Stand like that."
Liz had her arms up over her head and I ran my hands down her sides focussing on the sensitive parts under her arms and in the sides of her breasts. They were really warm which surprised me given how cool the room was. Her nipples were sticking out their full half inch but the dark circle surrounding them hadn't engorged yet.
She was smooth as a baby's bottom and I was guessing that she was visiting El's spa again since I introduced her to the delights of the women's only boudoir.
Taking my right hand, I ran my forefinger down her sternum and under one breasts and then the other. My left hand drifted down the outside of her right thigh and back up and around to her ass cheek. I increased my pressure so that her cheek was pulled away from her crack.
I could hear her "mmmmmm" as she exhaled the breath she had been holding and leaned forward into me a little, close enough for me to get a scent of jasmine from her hair. Yes, she was at El's just before she hooked up with me.
"Squat" I said. "Take my pants off".
As I looked down I could see something was different. "You've lost weight?"
When I first met her with her husband some six weeks before she was weary baggy clothing trying to hide the 20 or so extra pounds she was carrying on her midsection. "Answer me."
Casting her eyes down she mumbled something that I couldn't hear. I quickly grabbed her by the chin and forced her head up. She gasped in surprise at both the speed and the threat of violence.
I prefer my subs to have eye contact with me - I learned a long ago that no one could lie to me easily if they were looking into my eyes. And the expressions around the eyes always gives fleeting reads on emotional turmoil within.
Liz's eyes popped wide open in shock and surprise, until her eyes narrowed in anger. "I started working out" she gasped though I was still holding her chin firmly, fingers coiled on her left and applying a little pressure to the throat. Her eyes widened again into a confidence that I found attractive in her, quite un-sub like.
"Take my pants off". I was already hard and my cock was straining to get out. I'm not very long, six inches maybe, seven if I didn't have a pot. Try as I might I just couldn't shed those extra pounds in my belly.
She reached for the button and struggled a bit to undo the top one - because they were button down jeans the grommets were a little larger to keep them in place - it wouldn't do to have them pop open in public particularly since I preferred to free bag.
I could tell she was a little frustrated when she discovered that there were more buttons. My cock head was already poking out and she brushed, and then paused, her fingers on it as she struggled with the second. She discovered at that point why I like button down jeans as she pulled the fabric in both directions and opened the other four in quick succession. My cock was in its full glory and smacked her in her face. She spread her lips as if to take my head into her mouth.
"No, I told you to take my pants off". I went on, "you can cuddle it with your cheeks while you're finishing."
Pulling my pants to my ankles I lifted one foot slightly and then the other. Liz ran the palm of her hands up my calf before moving to slip the jeans off one leg at a time. "Cheeky little bitch" I thought before saying to her, "fold my clothes neatly and put them on the night table. Get me a towel from the bathroom and bring it to me. On your knees."
She pulled her face away from my crotch; you could see she was struggling, like this is what she had to endure to get shagged. But she complied, gathering up my jeans and T, folding them neatly and smoothing them out, but not before sniffing the shirt. Turning she looked at me and I said, "you can walk to the bathroom and back but present the towel to me on your knees."
As she went back down on her knees, the same flash of anger washed across her face.
This time we were in a hotel room of my choice, a boutique four star downtown close by where I lived. My sometimes-gay lover Alexis was the manager and he hooked me up with the room with his usual smile, "... you owe me for this. And I know you always pay your debts."
He had arranged to have the heavy sofa table to be moved slightly to one side and on it was a chiller of ice with a couple of bottles of mineral water, six amber beer from a local brewery and a bottle of decent white wine. I stood there and pulled the cork from the wine (it had already been uncorked and resealed) and poured it into a fluted glass. I grabbed one of the light beers and stopped to consider whether to drink from the bottle and instead reached for one of the pilsner glasses and poured it in.
Setting the beer down, I grabbed the towel from Liz and spread it out over the leather couch and sat down on it, cock at glorious full mast waving in the air. Picking the beer up and taking a sip I told Liz, "shuffle forward until your knees are against my feet."
Once settled I lifted my feet and placed them onto of her thighs, toes tight against her hip bones. Taking another sip of my beer I took the glass of wine and offered it toward Liz. As I expected as she leaned forward she was stopped by the front of my feet against her hip bones. I closed the remaining distance to her lips and lifted the glass slightly. She hungrily went from sip to a gulp - I could feel her hands grip and tighten on my ankles as she did.
"You might want to loosen that grip. Rub them where you hurt me." I offered her another sip of wine and rested the cold stem of the glass between her breasts. A little wine had escaped her mouth this time and I reached forward with my other hand and ran my finger through the spill and onto her lips.