This story is a continuation of Learning Pleasure (https://www.literotica.com/s/learning-pleasure). I've done my best to make it enjoyable without reading the previous stories. But I believe readers might care about the characters more if they start at the beginning.
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The crowd was like a fog, and Aria Thames the sun. The dense cloud of people on the dance floor and around the bar parted like wisps before her. Aria had something mysterious about her -- something almost magical. Things always went her way. From gliding through crowds, to acquiring power, to women.
To me: Carol Small, mother, housewife, in my thirties. And very much going Aria's way, like everything else in Aria's world. I was going Aria's way, wherever she might lead me.
Maybe it was beauty that got Aria everything she wanted. Every single piece of Aria's physical presence in the world defined perfection, from her long legs to her tight, flat tummy, to her pert, round breasts to her inky black hair.
Maybe it was clothes. Aria was wearing them, but barely. Her strapless dress barely got started in time to cover her breasts and screeched to a halt the moment her butt was covered. Her heels weren't costume-hooker height, but they definitely weren't flat.
Maybe it was money. Her father was the majority owner of one of the country's oldest and wealthiest law firms.
Since she was eighteen, some might imagine that youth contributed to the ease of Aria's life, but I disagreed. I had an eighteen-year-old daughter. I knew girls that age weren't, as a general rule, composed. They were bubbly, mercurial, tempermental, dramatic and above all else, they were growing into life and learning. Eighteen-year old girls weren't smooth, they weren't sleek, they weren't composed and dominant.
Eighteen-year-old girls were often ready to take on the world.
Aria Thames had the world at her feet.
And she enjoyed letting it feel her stiletto heel and wine-painted toenail occasionally, just to remind it where it stood.
I fell for her when Aria walked up to me at a party and offered me a glass of bourbon she should have been three years too young to get.
I was married, I was straight, and I was twice her age. But everything went Aria's way. Everything. Now I was locked in her orbit, forgetting to worry about whether my husband would eventually find out, forgetting to worry about my excitable, melodramatic daughter and what she might think of her mother having a lesbian affair with her fellow senior.
I wore a dress Aria picked out for me, maybe even more revealing than hers. She liked red and black. She wore red, so I wore black. Like hers, the hemline was miniscule. Unlike hers, mine was so high necked it competed with the diamond necklace she had given me. It had a big oval cutout right between my breasts that showed most of them.
The necklace was an overwhelming gift that had been part of my seduction. I guessed at a value of $30,000 for the diamond choker, though I was unqualified to guess at dollar values that big. One way or another, I had more money around my neck than my husband drove to work every day.
And then there was the garter.
Also diamonds.
Probably equally extravagant in terms of cost.
And snug right at the top of my thigh, scratching my butt a little bit. And still I showed a flash of sparkle with every step, my dress was so short.
Aria was a girl playing dressup with her new favorite doll.
I just hadn't quite gotten used to being a barbie.
On our first date, she taught me about pleasing another woman. On our first date, she taught me how it feels to give, and give, and give, and not receive. On our first date, she taught me to call her Mistress.
Now I followed where she led, still uncertain about everything submission meant, but certain that I loved it. I loved Aria commanding me. I loved obeying. I loved wearing what she told me, going where she told me, doing what she told me.
Her father owned the law firm where my husband worked, so Aria found it easy to get him out of town when she wanted me to herself. My daughter, too, had been whisked away when Aria found some of her friends to invite Lisa to a weekend trip.
When both of them came home and announced they were going out of town for the weekend, I knew what was coming: another weekend with Aria. Another weekend pleasing Aria. Another weekend belonging to Aria.
But we were only on the second of our weekends together. I didn't yet understand just how far my obedience could be pushed.
"Pick out a girl, Plaything."
I could barely hear her over the pounding electronic music. The frantic beat drove my heart faster just listening to it. The sampled vocals sounded high and exotic.
"Mistress?"
"Choose the girl you're going to go down on tonight."
She didn't mean... she couldn't possibly mean... the kids these days must use that slang term to mean something other than what it meant to people of my and my husband's generation. Maybe the deafening club music made me mishear.
"Um.... I choose you?"
Aria giggled. "That'll be the second girl you go down on tonight, Plaything. Choose the first. Pick out the girl you're going to kneel before and service. I'll seduce her, don't worry about that. It's what I do. But you choose who."
My jaw dropped open. I stared at her, mouth opening and closing like a fish.
She threw her head back and laughed. Then Aria leaned in close to me, so I could smell the light, fruity perfume around her neck. Her lips brushed my ear. She spoke right into it, so there was no question of whether I could hear her.
"What did you think, when you begged on your knees to give me every kinky pleasure I could imagine, Plaything? Did you think we'd stay comfortably in my bedroom and you'd keep doing what you already knew how to do? I like watching girls give pleasure they never imagined before. I wouldn't keep you if I was going to be bored.
"Tonight, you will apply those oral skills you worked so hard to learn with me, to a girl you meet in the next thirty minutes. You will give this lucky girl the most amazing orgasm she's ever had in her life. And I am going to love watching the show."
"I... um... Mistress, I..."
Aria was making faces at me again. She liked to strike these elaborate, thoughtful poses when teasing me about our relationship.