Delilah and Cliff

I went out for coffee Monday morning, but I was tired of StarFucks and their overpriced mochas, so I tried a little cafe down the street. I like to change my routine now and then because when I do, unusual things happen. Serendipity, synchronicity, sensually exciting...all from a routine thing like getting coffee from the next place down the street.

I strode in through the front door and put my laptop on one of the high tables they had. I took a look around the place before going up front to make my order, and I noticed her immediately. She was sitting in the back and alone with just a cup of black coffee half full in front of her. But her head had turned when I walked in, and she noticed me checking her out. Her head turned away, but I continued to assess her until she looked back and saw me still looking.

She looked to be about forty years old, at least, the way she was dressed suggested that. It was only 8:15 in the morning, but she had her makeup on--just enough to accentuate her good looks, nothing gaudy or flashy. She wore a form-fitting sweater that showed off her ample chest and a blazer that would never close over her tits but otherwise was impeccably tailored. The table hid the rest of her from my view, but she glanced away, then slowly looked back, meeting my gaze for almost a full minute. Then her mouth turned up at the corners slightly, and she went back to contemplating her cup.

She seemed bored.

I decided to pick up my laptop and head for the back. She was sitting at a four-top, so I placed my laptop across from her.

"Is this seat taken?"

She gave me a look that was equally annoyed and amused.

"No, go ahead and sit down." The corners of her mouth made an almost welcoming smile. "I'm Delilah. And you are?"

"You can call me Steve," I said. "Excuse me, please, while I order. Would you like anything?"

She fiddled her fingers a bit so I would notice the substantial diamond on her left hand. "No, I'm fine with this," making a little flourish over her coffee cup.

"Are you sure? It's no trouble."

Her eyes met mine, and my smile was already dimpling my cheeks and lighting up my eyes.

"Alright then, Steven, I'll take one of those chocolate croissants since it's no trouble."

I gave a slight bow and went to the counter. When I returned with my mocha, I had two croissants and gave her the larger one. I didn't open my laptop or sit across from her. I took the seat next to her.

"You seem dressed for the office, but you also seem unconcerned with time." I took a sip of my coffee. "Do you run the office and have the utmost confidence in your team?"

"Observant, aren't we?" Her smile now spread up to her eyes, which sparkled with mischief and curiosity. "Should I trust a stranger in a coffee shop with my closely guarded secrets?"

"Maybe I know them already," I replied.

"Do tell," she said.

"Well, let me see." I gave her a more observant once-over, in response, she bowed her head over her coffee cup and let out an amused chuckle.

"If I may be so bold," I said, looking her in the eye. "You're not the boss of your office; you're carrying a small purse and no briefcase."

Her smile widened.

"I would say you aren't going to the office after all because you don't work there anymore."

She gave a little gasp and looked at me with a bit more respect, but her smile now widened to a grin.

"And your husband doesn't know, either. That's why you got dressed up this morning and left at your regular time, but now are sitting here, talking to me."

"What gave it away?"

"Your shoes. And your purse. And the croissant." I took another slurp of my mocha, enjoying her look of surprise and curiosity. "So, I know some of your secrets already. No need to divulge anything."

"Clever, aren't we," she said with a laugh.

"Well, one of us is," I laughed. "So, tell me, how did you get fired?"

"Well, I wasn't fired exactly. They came in Friday and said the HR department is being outsourced to an independent entity. The boss came in with three security officers and escorted me, my assistant, and my secretary to the main receptionist area. While the boss handed us our severance checks, the security officers brought down the personal items from our desks."

She took a sip from her coffee and finally took a nibble from her pastry.

"Go on," I encouraged.

"I was in shock when I got home; there was no forewarning that it was about to happen. When hubby got home and said how was work today, I still hadn't grasped what had happened. So, I said, fine, dear, and started dinner like nothing had gone wrong." She took another bite out of her pastry, washed it down with coffee, and looked out to the middle distance wistfully.

"So, now you have the whole day to yourself and don't know what to do."

She giggled at that comment.

"No, I have a pretty good idea of what to do," she said. "But not here." She took another bite of her croissant, then pointed at what was left in the coffee pots with regular and decaf for customer refills. "Top me off, would you?"

I stood up and got the regular pot, and filled up her cup while she wolfed down the rest of her pastry, and I finished mine as well. The morning rush was over, and the crowd thinned out as the clock headed for 9:30.

"Let's go to my place," she suggested.

"That sounds like fun," I agreed. "Should we leave separately?"

"No, they don't know me here. This the first time I've ever come in here."

In the parking lot, she got into a charcoal gray Mercedes-Benz C 300 Convertible. I followed her in my red late-model Corvette as we headed out of town and up into the foothills. The houses got larger and more hidden as we climbed until we were winding around hairpin turns with nothing but gated fences visible from the road. She made good time, familiar with the roads and showing off a little, daring me to keep up.

She pulled off at a substantial gate and keyed in the access code for it to allow us entry. It still took us a few minutes to get to the house. I pulled in behind her and got out.

"Welcome to my humble home," she said as we climbed the steps to the columned front porch. She opened the double front doors, we entered the foyer, and took off our shoes. She took off her blazer, and I handed her my coat, and she hung them in the closet. "Come in and make yourself at home." We strode into the lushly carpeted sitting room, and she immediately went behind the wet bar and got two glasses, dropping two large cubes of ice in each one.

"At 10:15 in the morning, really," I said, intrigued. "Make mine scotch." I sat down on the leather couch and waited for her to bring me my drink.

She poured a few fingers of Glengoyne Distilleries' finest into each glass.

"Just something to take the edge off all that coffee," she said and placed the drink in my hand, then sat at my feet on the floor. She looked up at me with a wanton curiosity. I took a long, slow sip from my glass.

"So, certainly, you have something more comfortable than that business attire to entertain in. Take me up to your dressing room, and let's pick something out for you to wear, shall we?"

I followed her up the grand central staircase upstairs, watching her ass on the way up and giving it an affectionate caress. I had her figured out at the coffee shop, but bringing my drink and sitting demurely at my feet told me all I needed to know. The house was expansive but cold. We walked down a long hall upstairs until we came to the master bedroom, festooned with full-length mirrors on every wall and at strategic spots on the ceiling. She opened the French doors, and we entered a spacious dressing room.

I set my drink down on a vanity and simply said, "Strip."

Her eyes smiled as she took off her sweater.

"I'll take that," and she handed it to me. I held it to my nose and inhaled deeply. "Keep going."

She handed me each piece of clothing, and with each, I savored her natural perfume and then tossed it on the floor. I walked around her, examining her as if she was a mare I was thinking of purchasing.

Once naked, I could tell so much more about her. The slight bruising on her ass and tits, the little tattoos are hidden where the normal dress would hide them. The cool air of the house made her nipples stand at attention and gave her goose pimples when I breathed a hot breath close to her skin. I didn't touch her, letting her wonder if I approved of her tan, fit body, her pert, large tits, her smooth, taut stomach, her shapely ass. I took another swallow of my drink and wandered about the room to one of the many wardrobes in the room, opened one, and was greeted by more business attire.

"Boring," I admonished her.

I opened another and found evening wear, long sweeping dresses, many of them slit almost to the waist with plunging necklines and no shoulders. It took me opening several more until I found what I was looking for: corsets, latex body suits, bondage costumes.

"So, your husband likes to see you dressed up like a slut, does he?"

She giggled.

"Yes, he does," she admitted, "but he gets tired of bossing me around."

"Well, I'm not tired of it yet," I said. "Get down on all fours."

She did.

"Crawl to me with your mouth open."

Delilah crawled forward, her mouth open and her eyes hungry. When she got up close, I spit in her mouth. She didn't pause a beat. I loosened my belt and my fly and let my pants fall to the floor around my ankles. My erection strained against my briefs, and I nodded for her to let it out of its restraint. It popped out, all ten inches, and hovered and twitched in front of her face.

"Well, what are you waiting for?"

"Permission."

"Good," I replied. Her husband had trained her well. "Turn around and show me your fuck-holes."

Still on all fours, she turned around till her ass was facing me, then she put her face on the floor and raised up on her feet, presenting herself to my judgment.

I took a good slap on her left ass cheek, which dropped her to all fours again.

"Did I tell you to rise?"

"No, sir."

The handprint on her ass cheek glowed bright red. I pulled her ass cheeks apart to examine her and spit into her anus. I teased her with my index finger, pushing my spit into her ass. It didn't seem like enough, so I hawked a good mucousy glob on her and started working it into her asshole with two fingers, then three. Besides my glowing handprint, her ass was shapely. Large, but not too large. But the thing that appealed to me most about it was her wet, dripping cunt under her open asshole. I took my fingers out of her ass and wet my fingers with her copious vaginal seepage. I lubricated my staff with it, then grabbed another handful of the liquid and lubricated her back door.

She was whimpering with anticipation, so I eased the head of my turgid manhood into her, feeling her anus grip me and then relax. I gave her another inch or two, meeting more resistance, but after that, her muscles grabbed me and drew me in until I was literally balls deep.

"Now, that's what I like," Delilah whispered.

I slapped her ass again.

"Did I say you could talk?" I pulled out of her and then went in again, harder and faster. She gasped but knew better than to say anything. I ass-fucked her for a few minutes, shallow strokes, pulling out and admiring how much I stretched her, then thrusting my cock deep inside her again. She reached back to stroke her clit, and I slapped her hand away.

"You can come when I say you can," and her ass gripped my cock again, pulling it deeper into her. I pulled it all the way out of her and told her to turn around. When she did, she opened her mouth and took my cock in, sucking it and cleaning it.

As much as it felt good being balls deep in her bowels, her mouth was even more enjoyable. She had no gag reflex--she swallowed me until her lips met my stomach, and she held me in her throat for several minutes while she attempted to make me empty my balls into her stomach.

I took about two minutes of that before I backed away, and my cock came out of her mouth with an audible pop. Delilah looked up at me innocently, awaiting my next command. I realized I was short of breath, trying not to cum.

"Let me see that ass of yours again, but keep your knees and hands on the floor."

Delilah dutifully followed my instructions and raised her ass into the air, an invitation for me to do anything I wanted. I spat on her asshole and watched it dribble down on her snatch. I smeared it across her ass pussy with the head of my cock, then bent down and entered her. I began slowly, spanking her every few strokes, then increasing as the speed of my thrusts increased.

I fucked like that, stopping teasingly just before she was on the maddening brink of orgasm until we both came together. I drove deep within her, and her orgasm pumped out a pint of her squirt and my cum streaming across the carpet.

"My husband will love that," she said after I permitted her to get dressed. After the post-coital wore off, I was eager to clean up in case her mate got home. It was now nearly 3:00 pm.

"Wait," I said, noticing the satisfied look on her face, "You're serious, that's not sarcasm.?"

"Yes," she replied. "I'm completely serious." She stretched, displaying a lot of shapely leg, and smiled. "I can't wait for you to meet Cliff. He enjoys the debauched side of my life and appreciates my dalliances. We should go out for a drink sometime, and you can order me around like you own me. You've seen some of my clothes. I will wear what you command and do whatever you command while we're out." Her smile turned into a lecherous grin.

"So, you like being told to dress like a whore and being made to follow orders from me and your husband at some dive bar? "

"Definitely. When I play, I truly love to be told what to wear and follow orders, no matter what."

"Or being tied up with your holes exposed while your husband and play poker?" I considered the possibilities of such an arrangement.

"Fuck, are you serious? That would be so hot! Are serious? You would do that?"

"I'm very serious. Would your husband like to see you like that? Have you done this before? But you would be touched in that scenario, could your husband handle that? Me getting up from the poker table and sticking my fingers into you? Or my tongue? Or my cock? I'd like to talk to him, too, to make sure what I might plan for you meets his approval."

"If you just talk to him, you will see how he is down with all of it. He would be going crazy seeing me like that! He is the one that got me convinced to have threesomes. He opened me up to this. God, I love it, and I love the excitement of my limits being pushed."

"I could have a lot of fun pushing your limits and his." I thought about it for a moment. "I just want to make sure I don't end up dead in a ditch somewhere."

She stretched languidly again, letting her dress ride up so I could see her swollen pussy, still leaking our cum.

"So, what kind of threesomes have you had? "I asked.

"I've been mostly with one guy and my husband, but we have met some couples, also."

"You haven't watched him with another woman?"

"Yes, when we were with a couple." I wondered if I could share a hypothetical wife with another man. Undecided, I thought that wife swapping was more my style, seeing my wife watch me dominate another woman.

"What kind of limits do you have? And which ones can be pushed, and which are hard limits, if I might ask? For both of you... for example, he probably wouldn't want to be tied to a chair and watch you get gang-banged... but would you like to be tied up and have your husband and some other guys do you until you can't take it anymore? I'm just trying to get a feel for where you would say 'no.'"

"I love to feel pushed into anything. I love to be punished and even humiliated. I mean that. Just no scat or blood, for sure. But I'm very open to being punished, pretty severely, if you like to do that."

"Have you enjoyed whips? I know you enjoy anal."

"Yes, whips, paddles, crops. Soft ones, not bullwhips. And, yes, I do love a lot of attention to my ass in all sorts of ways." She spread her legs wide and sat back, giving me a priceless view of the two holes I'd enjoyed all afternoon.

"Nice, very nice. You've had a guy in your ass and another in your pussy at the same time?" Her lewd grin got wider and gave me my answer.

"So, you do what you like to me, and don't be afraid to spank or whip me with anything! Just use it good on me. I seriously hope you get into meeting us in public and make me feel that you own me completely. It would make me so hot to feel truly owned by someone."

"You don't feel owned by your husband?"

"Cliff is more dominant with me when we play by ourselves, but when we play with others, he plays more of a cuckold."

"Ah, an interesting dynamic...I could never play at being a cuckold..." I shuddered at the thought. "But I will dominate the fuck out of you in front of him if that gets you both off."

"God, yes, the whole thing excites me!" To emphasize her pleasure, she began stroking her wet labia.

"So go ahead, touch yourself, I like to watch women debase themselves."

"You are really okay to meet us and to demonstrate that you own me? A lot of men say they will, but when push comes to shove, they can't do it in front of Cliff. He gets off on that, but not me."

"I would love that," I assure her. "I already own you. I knew it in the coffee shop."

"Did you?" Delilah stopped pleasuring herself and looked at me quizzically. "How soon?"

"Pretty much as soon as I sat down beside you," I admitted. "You were a little too smug, being accosted by a stranger."

"I know talent when I see it," she said smugly.

I laughed at this appreciation of my skills.

"Yes, you can see how wet I get so easily when properly stimulated. I'm very orgasmic, and Cliff made me learn how to squirt on the vibrating end of his Hitachi. Long, long, blissful, and orgasmic hours training me." She shivered delightfully at the memory. "It created the wanton slut I am now."

"He did a good job," I admitted. "He knows his stuff."

"Yes, he does," she said with pride. "Now, I can easily cum anywhere, as many times as I want. But it gets very wet around me." She demonstrated this by stroking herself no more than half a dozen times and squirting precisely on the wet spot where our combined cum had leaked out of her earlier. "Very, very wet. Are you okay with that?" She looked at the wolfish grin on my face and chuckled. "I thought so."

We parted with a kiss, and I took off from her driveway in my car, thinking how much I would enjoy my next meeting with Delilah and the enigmatic Cliff.