Pleased To Meet You Ch 02

[This chapter will make much more sense if you read chapter 1 first. This is only my second story here at Literotica. I have posted it in Mature, but it could also have been posted in Fetish, BDSM, or Romance. Obviously, it has a range of themes. Everyone in this story is well over 18.]

Chapter 2

Now with Margaret's permission for him to do with her as he liked, Will stood a moment in thought, pondering the possibilities. He picked up her damp half-jacket in one hand and grasped her arm with his other, gently propelling her into the living room and seating her on the settee. He picked up the print-out of his story and handed it to her.

"Here, I'm going to go hang up your black thingy to dry in the bathroom. You remember I mentioned my little stories earlier, well here's one you can read while I find a hanger and get that taken care of. It's not too long, and I hope you find that it sets a lovely mood."

"Typical Littersmutica author's fantasy," he thought to himself. "Take control of a bashful little submissive and the first thing you do is make her read your smut!" He rolled his eyes at his own vanity as he opened the hall closet and rifled around until he found an empty hanger.

Meanwhile, back in the living room, Margaret was seated primly in her slip and lingerie, carefully holding her legs together tightly as if trying to maintain some decorum as she avidly read Will's lascivious story. It was uncanny how the woman in the fantasy was so very much like herself! The woman was visiting the home of her Master whom she called on weekly for his attentive skills in making her do the most embarrassing and humiliating things, culminating in her punishment and erotic release.

Margaret was beginning to get overheated again, and as the story drew to a close, she realized that she had her slip hiked up to her waist and her little hand poked down into her satin knickers urgently fingering her quim. Her panties were a twisted mess.

Just then, Will walked back into the room and caught Margaret helplessly masturbating. She flushed bright red and hastily withdrew her sticky fingers from her panties, mortified that Will had caught her. It was as if he had set her up! How very like her dear Paul. She tried to surreptitiously wipe the juices from her fingers by hurriedly straightening her slip and fanning herself with the print-out.

"Enjoyed the story, I take it?" Paul leered puckishly. "You've just given a writer of erotica the greatest possible compliment, short of an actual orgasm."

"Will, I..., I mean to say, I'm feeling so hot, no, I mean... you write so well."

"Thank you, my dear, but really, you read so well! You were such a charming sight to behold. However, it looks like you are about to faint again from heat prostration. We really need to get you out from under all these layers of underthings. I realize that they are all part of your style, and I do appreciate that. But I can't just have you perspiring all over my couch. And just look at your knickers! Absolutely soaked! Though, I realize that most of that is pussy juice, which I must say smells quite spicy."

At the mention of her intimate odors, Margaret cast her gaze downward and shivered with humiliation. She tugged her slip up until she could see her panties and cringed with embarrassment. They were as Will had said, soaked right through. She forced herself to look up at him, displaying a helpless expression. Her face was burning, but she couldn't find any words to say. The best she could manage was a little whimper of shame. She awaited his next move.

"Alright then, jump up for a moment and raise your arms above you. Let's get this slip off for starters." Will walked over, tickled her pit hairs, and pinched the satin fabric right beneath each auburn tuft and tugged the slip up. Once it was up by her head, she lowered her arms and pulled it off, bowing her head to make it easier.

"Okay, now we're getting somewhere. I don't know about you, but I think this girdle is the root of the heat problem. Now, please understand that I think there is nothing quite so fetching as a woman of a certain age poured into a nicely designed foundation garment. It pushes that tummy in and helps uplift the bosom; all very flattering. But I think at this point in our proceedings, the girdle is getting a bit in the way, no? If we are to relax together - or even get excited together - the girdle must go. Don't you agree?"

Margaret gave him a look of great embarrassment in anticipation of having to take it off in front of him.

"Yes, Sir," she said a bit grudgingly, trying to hopelessly maintain what was left of her dignity. "It's just that I wanted to look my best for you."

"I quite understand and you looked stunning; you did - and still do. But I'm not interested in a mannequin. Someone with your charms can also look her best in complete dishevelment or when humiliatingly debased. It's the purity of your surrender and submission with an open heart that elevates our meeting above a mere kinky hook-up.

"Margaret, I want you to look me in the eyes... no, no, don't look away... look me in the eyes as you remove your girdle. You can do this."

Margaret felt herself on the verge of tears. She had taken a leap of faith and surrendered herself to Will, but somehow she was still hoping to maintain her familiar defenses - her comforting wardrobe, her veneer of propriety, her sense of looking her best - as these had stood by her in the wake of dear Paul's death.

Now she was being ordered to divest herself of all her defenses and appear before Will as the aging woman that she undoubtedly was. Busty and big-bottomed, certainly. Hirsute, undoubtedly. A neurotic "piece of work"? No question. But these things hadn't hindered her late husband's devotion, and she prayed that this would also be true with Will.

She stared at Will as she began to undress. This had to proceed in a certain order. As embarrassing as it was, her sopping knickers had to come off first, as they were worn on top of her garters, in case nature called and she had to do her business. Without breaking her eye contact, she slid the panties over her generous hips and thighs and let them drop to her feet. Still wearing her black pumps, she stepped out of the knickers and bent at her knees to reach them and pick them up.

"You can hand those to me, my dear, I simply must sniff them." Margaret sheepishly draped the sodden undies over Will's outstretched palm and watched in humiliation as he brought them to his nose and inhaled deeply.

"Ahhhhhh... delectable. Your bouquet is the very essence of femininity. Eau de Twat. Quite complex and tangy - just superb!"

Will was making her feel all flowy again and the strong odor of aroused pussy hung in the living room air.

Next Margaret had to attend to her nylon stockings. They were upheld by the garters that hung down from the girdle's lower edge.

She bent over slightly, affording Will a deep view of her cleavage, and unfastened the clasps methodically, letting her stockings slither down her smooth legs, requiring her to remove her pumps to disentangle them from her feet.

With each article that Margaret removed, she felt increasingly exposed and mortified. The unshaven jungle of pubic hair that spread out from her quim, extending well down her inner thighs, was secretly her pride and joy - so animalistic! - but brazenly revealing it like this to a man she had only just met really was almost too much for her. It was so humiliating and intimate! And yet, with her panties now removed, her vaginal juices were dripping unrestrainedly into her pubes and down her thighs. She hadn't felt this excited in a long time.

Now it was finally time to unfasten her girdle. First, that top clasp that buoyed her bosom high. Then, one by one, the frontal stays that synched her girdle against her chest and belly. This was the moment of reckoning. With both hands she slid the loosened undergarment down over her hips and bum and tugged it down her shapely legs.

Sometime back, Will had seated himself in a chair directly across from the settee to enjoy the mortifying ritual. Margaret stood before him clad only in her bra and, against all odds, still looking into his eyes, silently pleading with him to be kind.

Will gave her an encouraging smile. "You can leave the bra on for now, if you like. I rather like this look: naked as a jaybird, except for a nice satin and lace bra. Sort of like a fashion shoot.

"Margaret, please sit down with your legs well apart and let me enjoy the view. You look impossibly enticing. I'm searching for the right word for you. 'Slut' doesn't really capture it. And 'Whore' is just too vulgar. Perhaps you are a 'Tart'. Hmm?"

Margaret was deep in her sub space. Of her own volition, she had spread her legs and tugged back her thick labial bush and was displaying her pretty pink glistening love flaps for Will. She gazed at him adoringly with such a single-minded wish to please him that she was oblivious to his word games. Keeping herself exposed with her left hand, she raised her right hand to her beautiful dark red lips and licked her fingers. Then she brought them down again to her "little pink one" and began to finger herself. A low groan came from deep within her throat, as her fingers and labial flaps began to slosh around. She stared at him wantonly with impossibly round eyes.

Will could see that, for the time being at least, snappy word play was right out. It was quite possible that in her present trance-like state that Margaret might not even understand english at all. She was making sounds, but they were more a burbling or cooing than anything coherent. Margaret had hung out the "Out to Lunch" sign and was fixated on Will's eyes and her quim, and that was it.

Under the circumstances, the only thing that made sense was for Will to remove his own clothes and let Margaret feast her eyes upon his "large pink one". It was only fair that she get as much of an eyeful as she was providing him. He wasted no time in stripping down - he pulled off his shoes and sox, his shirt and pants, and set them aside. That left his black boxer briefs which bulged in front showing the shape of his engorged cock. Still standing, he pulled the briefs down and around his vein-gnarled member which was seeping pre-cum. It stood rigidly out at a 45 degree angle, pointing directly at Margaret.

Margaret broke her gaze from Will's eyes and lowered it to take in the handsome meat-stick. With widened eyes, she licked her lips as Will gave it a few pumps, smiling at her interest. She redoubled her fingering of her puss as she stared at this new apparition. Will was tempted to sit back down again and mirror back her own toying with her privates. But he wished to heighten the tension in the air. He wanted it absolutely crackling, so electric that it would override any of Margaret's remaining inhibitions or qualms.

Still stroking his dripping erection, he spread the pre-cum around his cock head and its thick shaft. He stepped over to Margaret on the settee, cupped the back of her head and brought it forward to within an inch of his cock. Grasping his member at its base, he slapped it against her rosy cheeks and rubbed its sticky goo all over her face. He then leaned down and kissed her deeply. Margaret felt her heart in her throat and returned his kiss as electrical sparks again coursed through her nervous system.

Will reached down and deftly gave a gentle flick to her clit and she was over the top. She cried out and pushed her face into his crotch, breathing in his pheromones deeply and rubbing her face against his cock, but not daring to suck it into her panting mouth. Such audacity required his permission and she was just learning his ways. Soon enough they would have all these little understandings sorted out so that they could dance these intimate steps without a word spoken.

Margaret was panting heavily and trying to calm herself. She was terribly aroused, almost to a point of nervous prostration. Will's teasing was exquisite, but she needed something more. She needed his hands roughly handling her, squeezing her flesh, tugging and slapping her naughty bits, inducing the great pleasure that only lovingly applied pain could provide.

Anxious that Will would take her shyness at face value rather than as an emotional barrier to be surmounted, she felt compelled to make herself clear.

"Please, Will. You have to punish me. I beg you! If you are to love me - and I pray that you will - I need a good thrashing to really surrender. I have such unspeakable desires that I can only admit to them if you force me to. Don't worry. If you go too far, I will simply yell 'Stop!' But it is very hard to go too far. Don't hold back!"

She was heartened by his reassuring response.

"Don't worry, my dear. We have all evening to take you to the limit. But we may have to pause for a bit of dinner. Fairy cakes and tea are not enough to take you where you need to go. Let's cool things down for a spell, while I order us a nice meal."

He tossed her slip to her as 'time out' garb.

"There's an excellent Turkish restaurant just a few blocks over that can deliver us a delicious doner kebap plate with salad and fresh bread. Does that sound okay?"

Margaret nodded and smiled. Will was still in charge and reading her needs. She allowed herself to surrender to him anew, trusting that he truly understood her desires. She glowed with contentment.

To be continued

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