After I stopped drinking, the bars and that bar scene just lost the attraction that used to afford me. Now I was still young and needed a social outlet. So as a replacement I started going to those trendy coffee shops. Mostly just to read and drink coffee, which was my new addiction, but also to watch the ladies.
One of my favorite places to go was the Café Moon. Café Moon was the epitome of some non drinkers’ meat rack. Every evening after 5pm, the place would be jammed with secretaries, business men and woman of all ages and status. Making contacts and socializing, like one would in some smokey wall street martini bar. An upward mobile places, that attracted the usual business crowd with a craving for caffeine and sex.
My normal routine was to go to the Moon, grab a table and just read my paper and girl watch, until about eight or nine p.m.. That’s when most everyone normally went home anyway.
While sitting there one night, enjoying a cup of the house blend, my favorite choice of swill at the moon.
Inadvertently over heard a group of what appeared to be five or six secretaries talking up a storm. At first they would be whispering. A whisper that was barely audible. This was then followed immediately by shrieks of loud laughter and shy giggles, coming from their table. This only made me more curious and self -conscious. One immediately thinks when a people whisper they are talking about you. I listened more intently. Craning my neck and mentally tuning up my ears, I focused harder and began to get the drift of the conversation.
It seems these nice young professional women were comparing their favorite sexual fantasies.
This was like being a fly on the wall, I found myself privy to a whole world of esoteric knowledge that few men get to experience.
Now most of their fantasies were typical and run of the mill, still I loved hearing them. These nasty young ladies wanted two men at the same time. They wanted two women at the same time. One even wanted to fuck her husband’s boss. Each time one lady spoke, the next one would try to top her fantasy. Kinkier and kinkier, from sex on top of parked cars to blow jobs under tables at the fanciest restaurants in town.
On and on they went, all but one that is, the quiet one who sat with her back to me.
Her friend noticed she was not contributing and began to chide her into coming clean. “Come on Vickie we know you’ve, got a good one, now tell us it.”
Vickie must have had some reputation, from her friends reaction to her silence this made her sound like she was the queen of kink. All of the ladies wanted to know what Vickie had to say. Suddenly Vickie spoke,
“I want to be forced!” “What!” said some of her friends in utter disbelief.
As I spit my coffee onto the sport section.
Vickie repeated herself “I want to be forced.” Vickie went on to explain“I want some strange guy I just met or hardly know to tie me up and make me his sex slave.”
One young lady roared “that’s rape and that’s sick.”
Vickie defended her self, “Rape is violent I said nothing about violence. Ok maybe a little smack on the ass and a pinch of the nipple but, . . . What I truly want, is to be ravaged by someone. Somebody that I don’t have to pretend with. Pretend that I don’t like it. Just like we all do with guys we dated and our husbands.”
.I could not believe what I was hearing. This sweet little voice with a face I could not see, was most defiantly my kind of lady.
I needed to see what she looked like. All my mind could see was, some woman with tits that came bulging out of a blouse that was way too tight, wearing some cheap skirt way too short. Some really tasteless bitch with way too much makeup
Slowly I tried to move without being noticed. It would be so embarrassing to be caught eavesdropping on their conversations. I got up and took my paper and ordered another cup of coffee. On my way back to my new seat I saw her.
Much to my pleasant surprise, she didn’t look anything like what my mind predicted she’d look like.
From my new seat I could look right at her, she sat at the very edge of the booth so I got to check her out from head to toe.
Vickie looked like a little Irish waif. With her long red mane, which I’m sure many women would have killed to have. She had petite tits that push hard against her tight tee shirt, I could see her pink nipples and the shape and size of her areola. Vickies’ legs were long and shapely. Which she accented with a pair of those fuck-me heels, that I do love so much. Shiny patent leather ones, with a tight ankle strap and at least five inches of heel. Don’t get me wrong Vickie was hot, I’d even say she was dam near-perfect. She was sexy, and innocent all at the same time. If I were to cast her to a porn flick, it would have to be. Irish Catholic school girls in trouble.
I was staring once again, and if I wasn’t careful I was going to get caught.
Vickie went on telling her friends how she would be abducted and her abductor would bind and gag her. Making her, his helpless prisoner.
Not realizing it but I was staring right at Vickie, her porcelain skin those piercing blue eyes and that sweet angelic voice. All of which had me hypnotized. Vickie looked up and caught me. I must have been sitting there with my mouth open engrossed in her tale. Surprisingly Vickie gave me a wink and smiled. I turned every color of red, I was so humiliated.
Allowing myself a few moments for my rock hard erection to subside.
Rising from my table and in an effort to save face Casually I walked over to their table and told all of the ladies that I hoped all their fantasies would come true. Then looking directly into Vickies’ sharp blue eyes, and I said, especially yours. Then I smiled turned and walked out as all the ladies turned as red as I had, just minutes before.
Weeks had past and I had seen Vickie on and off at the moon. We always gave each other a flirtatious smile or an approving nod. Just letting the other know it was ok to look and flirt.
At some point I made a conscience decision, to make Vickie’s fantasy come true. It was probably made the night, I first heard it. In some way it was also fulfilling a fantasy of my own. But how was I to do this and not be mistaken as a rapist. What if she didn’t mean what she said. There must be a way to test the waters, before I committed myself. Once I crossed the line there would be no turning back , she would love either it or I would be going to jail.
One evening while milling around at the Moon, I tried giving Vickie a test. In a flirtatious way
I struck up a short conversation, while we were ordering coffee at the counter. “Hi there” I told her, as we waited for the counter girl to take our order. Vickie replied in kind “Hi you’ve become quite the regular haven’t you.” Quickly I seized the opportunity and replied. “ Well how else could I fulfill your fantasy.” Vickie stepped back.“Oh God you remember that.” I could see she was kind of embarrassed. Yes and I especially remember yours.” Vickie was quick, and with an inviting smile. She said just what I needed to hear too.“Then we should not talk any longer so you can remain a stranger.” Because only a stranger can make my fantasy come true.” With that she smiled and walked away. I felt heat rush through my body . The heat of arousal flushed over every inch of me. My ears grew unexplainably hot. God I was just basically given permission to make both our dreams come true.
Weeks went by Vickie continued her cock teasing and inviting innuendo. Little did she realize all this time I was preparing my trap, and an evening of total lust.
The anticipation drove me for weeks as I set up my basement like some sex club dungeon. Purchasing one of those love swings, the one with hand and ankle supports as well as two padded body supports Vickie would literally be suspended in the air once she was tied into the swing.
This was only the beginning of what I had done to prepare. Over the past few weeks I must have hit every sex shop in the metropolitan area. Like some wandering degenerate searching for the perfect sex toy.
Walking in looking around. Always looking over my shoulders. Working up the nerve to make the most simple of purchases.
The owners and cashiers of these shops must have thought of me as some kind of freak. All the time I was praying I didn’t see anyone that I knew, while in the stores. God forbid anyone would see me with a package as I’d leave in a rush.
Hurrying down the street to my car. That I never parked in front fearing someone would recognize it.
Now it was not like I had never been to those places, it was just I felt so guilty for being so turned on by what I was planning.
