I smiled inwardly watching him squirm at my sight. It wasn't very fair of me because Ashley couldn't possibly know that I was the real owner of Escape Club and therefore his employer. He composed himself, faked a reasonable measure of confidence and smiled at me.
"Your husband would freak out if he knew you were here Mrs. Barclay."
"Oh, I doubt that he will ever find out, Ashley. Would you tell Richard I visited?"
"Only once it was time to resign and move on."
He made light of my appearance at his workplace while it was closed, but I knew he was anxious. I meandered past empty plush leather sofa's, trailing my finger along their backs until I reached him at the bar.
"A few hours ago these sofa's were full of women being fucked."
"Yes, men get fucked here too, but now we're closed."
"Were you fucking anyone last night, Ashley?"
"It's my job, so yes."
I stared at him long enough to register my interest, undressing the only garment he wore, a pair of simple boxer briefs.
"Look Mrs. Barclay, your husband left standing orders to inform him if you came here."
"This is a private members' club and, if I recall correctly Ashley, I'm enrolled."
"Yes. It's also a fetish club and you are the wife of its owner visiting out of hours, meeting with the in-residence bull."
"Quite right my dear. You received my email, then?"
"Yes. It's why I came."
"Are you intrigued by the danger or simply obeying someone you aren't quite sure of?"
"I don't obey, Mrs. Barclay. I follow sometimes but only if I choose."
I'd always had a penchant for younger men. I don't mean too young, because that wouldn't be much fun in the teasing and seduction stage, nor would they make effective lovers. I like men around thirty years old, very fit and crammed full of testosterone, with an appreciation of the finer things in life.
Ashley definitely impressed in all areas, and since my husband had fucked every whore he wished for our entire marriage, it seemed fair for me to succumb to sins of the flesh and enjoy what I most desired for my fiftieth birthday celebration.
"I didn't come here to fuck you, Ashley."
"Okay, why are you here then, Mrs. Barclay?"
"Won't you call me Celia please?"
He relaxed somewhat, tried to eyeball me, blinked and smiled, knowing I wasn't going away until my goals were met.
"Of course. Won't you sit?"
"This will be my first time in such an exquisitely designed bar stool although I've heard all about them from friends."
"Would you like a spritzer, Celia?"
"Only if you'll join me."
"How could I not, since it is your birthday."
"Oh, you knew?"
"I make it my business to know these things."
I enjoyed watching Ashley move around, bend over, tend bar and serve me almost as an art connoisseur appreciates a well-chiseled statue. There were no romantic feelings involved in my mission, because I'd lost that capacity years ago to a tragic marriage.
The in-residence fuck toy at Escape Club, available to discerning ladies like me, but not actually me, was a delightful man.
Ashley was built like a Greek god and hung considerably according to my friend's who could afford and partook of his services. I had not enjoyed the prime cut of beef others spoke highly of... yet, hence my visit to arrange a tryst that would change that unfortunate oversight.
"Why did you come here today Mrs. Barclay?"
"We'll get to that soon enough, Ashley. Are you an impatient man?"
"Not ordinarily."
He slid a chilled spritzer across the highly polished wooden bar counter separating us, smiling broadly. I checked him out noticing flared nostrils, pupils deliciously dilated, cheeks flushed and a bulge in his crotch that almost poked through the boxer brief he wore.
"There now, you're relaxing nicely."
"I love confident women."
"Do you ever feel objectified Ashley?"
"All of the time... and I fucking love it."
"All those young women, with pussies leaking like faucets, brushing up against you, feeling your ass and rubbing your cock, desperate to be fucked. It can't be easy."
"It's my living and I enjoy it. Mostly, it doesn't feel like a chore. I take bookings as they come, but I much prefer older women."
He'd turned the sexual tension tables around, eyeballing me again, winning because I blinked this time. I crossed my legs, desperate to generate some friction between two swollen pussy lips that were desperate to be released on him.
"Oh, now you're just being fucking naughty, Ashley."
"I'm not the one out of bounds, seducing a bull."
"Am I seducing you?"
"Are you Celia?"
I sipped an excellent spritzer while studying my fuck buddy prospect. He'd fully set aside my husband's rule about me not visiting unaccompanied, figuring opportunity beckoned.
He also looked mightily aroused and no longer afraid of Richard.
"I've heard you are an expert with your tongue. My friends' claim you are the most accomplished cunnilingus practitioner they ever enjoyed."
"I'm glad they appreciate my work."
I studied him carefully, noticing his outrageous desire for me. Having kept myself fit, enjoyed the care and style afforded by a billion dollar fortune built by me in my own company, it felt uplifting that one so considerably virulent might genuinely desire me.
"Do you want to fuck me, Ashley?"
"I can't."
"That isn't what I asked. Answer my question please."
"Yes, I do. Not fuck... perhaps something else."
"You want to make love to me?"
"Yes, that's closer to it, although I'm not in love with you. You deserve to be treasured and savored."
"I'm incapable of love my dear. Mr. Barclay has exorcised that aspect of my soul although my passion and libido is unchanged from my youth."
"If not to fuck, but to seduce me, where are you going with this?"
"Do you realize my husbands' wealth is an allowance granted by me?"
"I didn't know."
He looked shocked and I felt the power exchange. Ashley suddenly realized I was the power behind the throne and had claimed that exalted seat for myself.