Quickie 46

It's the jumpsuit that always makes me wet. Not just anything about the jumpsuit, although it's so much fun to imagine Linda's firm, toned stomach muscles rippling away under the tan fabric--no, what always gets to me is the way she rolls up her sleeves to do her daily deliveries and shows off those big butch guns of hers. She's got the kind of thick, powerful biceps that make me imagine her lifting me right up off the floor and hauling me away on her back just like I weighed no more than one of the beer kegs she delivers every Tuesday afternoon. I love that kind of strength. I love to trace her tattoos with my eyes, the bright green of the dragon on her left arm and the vivid orange of the phoenix on her right, and picture my fingers following where my gaze has already gone. It's enough to make my pussy fucking drool with anticipation. My panties are damp within seconds.

She looks over at me, and there's a twinkle in her eyes that tells me she's been waiting all damn day for this stop in particular. "Hey, Mel," she says, her voice husky with that delicious working-class Philly accent of hers, still audible even after two years of living in the Midwest, "you got a few minutes to help me check in this week's shipment?" She gives me a crooked little smile, just the tiniest little quirk at the corner of her mouth, and I know that she's down to fuck. I know what I'm going to find when I unzip that jumpsuit and reach down between her legs to that sloppy mess she's already made of her cunt. God, I can't fucking wait.

Still, I keep my voice light and casual. "Sure," I say, reaching under the counter and putting out the 'Back in Ten Minutes' sign. "Babs, can you keep an eye on the place while I go give Linda a hand?" Babs is my best friend, occasionally with benefits, and my bar is pretty much her home away from home. She's here on her lunch hour, and I know I can trust her to refill a drink or two or close out a tab for one of the four or five regulars that come in on Tuesdays when business is light. So long as I tell her later what Linda and I got up to in the back room together, that is. Or maybe show her instead.

Linda heads through the swinging double doors that lead into the back of the bar, and I follow. I can see those strong legs and tight, firm buttocks working even underneath the obscuring fabric of the jumpsuit, and all it's doing is making my clitty throb harder. I can't stop imagining what I want to do to her, how I want to see that toned stomach and jacked chest with its stiff nipples. Linda doesn't have much in the way of tits, but damn if those nipples don't stand up a full inch once you get them teased properly. Sucking on them is like having two extra clits to play with.

She stops next to the supply room and turns to look at me, still pretending she's talking about work. "I'm running a little early today," she says loudly, just in case Gina's listening from the kitchen--not that Gina cares who the owner fucks, but half the fun of having a quickie with the delivery gal is pretending you have to sneak around. "I might be able to knock off about ten minutes early--"

That's all I need to hear. I put my finger to her lips, and shiver with delight as I watch the awareness fade from those pretty brown eyes and see those strong arms go slack at her sides. Linda's such a good hypnotic subject, so imaginative and eager to sink into trance for me. Putting triggers into her soft, fuzzy little mind makes it easy to drop her on those occasions when we don't have a lot of time for a real induction... and plus, it's so fun to watch her switch off like a light bulb when I touch her just right. I can't lie, my pussy clenches like a fist every time I see her go blank like this. I take her hand and lead her into the supply room like a puppy on a leash.

God, it's so fucking hot to feel her limp arm held in my grip and know that all of Linda's strength and power belongs to me now. Her biceps are twice the size of mine, she could literally bench press my entire body with no real effort, but all I have to do is speak a single word and she's helpless. This is why I always go for butch women. Topping a slender little thing with big doe eyes and a cute little cupid's bow of a mouth is one thing, but making a badass tattooed amazon into my personal bitch? Nothing makes me feel toppier than that. I'm fucking soaking down there even before I reach past her to push the door shut and stick the doorstop in place.

As soon as I know we're alone, I push her back against the door and plant kiss after hot, searing kiss on her neck. I have to lean my body upward just to reach that high; Linda's a good foot taller than I am, and I'd have to go on tiptoes to reach her lips. But she melts so much more quickly when I nuzzle the sensitive skin of her throat anyway, and I like pressing my body into her firm, broad chest while we make out. She lets out a soft, trembling moan that's about an octave higher than her usual voice, and I know that she's getting lost in arousal for me. Her foggy little mind is twisted around my dainty little finger, and I love every second of it.

I reach in and unzip her jumpsuit, pulling the zipper all the way down to her crotch before sliding my fingers inside the gap to caress her taut, well-muscled flesh. She's wearing nothing but a tank top and a pair of light gray gym shorts underneath her work uniform, and it doesn't take me long to find out that she's wearing nothing at all under that. I brush past the downy patch of fur covering her vulva to find a pair of labia that are so already so slick to my touch that my fingertips skate right over her skin without a moment's resistance.

She moans, and I growl out, "Ah ah ah, pretty girl! We're staying quiet, remember?" I pull her tank top up to reveal the tight, stiff buds of her nipples, and roll the shirt into an impromptu gag. Pushing it into her mouth forces her to hold the thin fabric in place, allowing my free hand full access to play with her flat titties and those big firm nips of hers. My mouth closes over one and my fingers squeeze the other. The gag does almost nothing to stifle her whimpers of helpless bliss, but I don't really care. Neither does Linda.

Within seconds, I've worked three fingers into her tight little cunt, pushing in and out of her soaking folds until her pussy muscles clench around me like she's doing a new exercise routine. Linda's eyelids flutter gently, showing me just a little bit of the whites of her eyes as she involuntarily rolls them back in her head with pleasure. She looks like a total fucking slut, all that strength and determination subsumed into desperate lust for me, and fuck if it isn't the hottest thing I could possibly imagine. There's no trace of the powerful woman other people see when they look at her. She's totally mine now, utterly open to my will and my control, and it's all I can do not to grind myself against her thigh like a bitch in heat.

But first things first. I find her clit and rub it relentlessly, whispering, "That's it, baby doll. Give me all that pleasure. Give me all that release. Melt away all those thoughts and leak them out onto my fingers, and let yourself go for me. Let yourself go for Mistress." Linda grunts in mindless ecstasy, my words hitting every single one of her hot buttons with a fucking sledgehammer of sheer bliss. She shudders and quakes with every breath against her stiff nipple as I punctuate every phrase with another hard, wet, suckling kiss. I know it won't be long before she cums for me.

For me. That's the rush right there, knowing that every guttural moan and mewl comes from my touch and my control. It's so hot to see Linda so helpless like this, almost as hot as it is for her to be so helpless. I suddenly remember the first time she stopped by the bar, the uncharacteristically shy look in her eyes as she asked me if I could really hypnotize people the way Babs said I could. I've never hard to work hard to find my kind of play partner, not when my reputation spreads so fast; there are always a few butch ladies out there who love to top physically and can't get enough of the kind of mental control I offer. I know Linda gets off on the idea that all her strength and toughness is useless when she's too blank and mindless to use it. The Tuesday afternoon quickies are just a bonus.

Her muscles tense despite the hypnotic relaxation that grips her mind, and I can hear in her choked whimper that she's cumming on my fingers. "That's it, sweetie pie," I murmur, taking my lips away from her nipple just long enough to encourage her into deepening her climax. "Cum for me. Cum for Mistress. No more thinking, no more will, just cumming. Good girl." Then it's back to suckling. She's got such sensitive nips that it would be a shame not to tease them while I finger her pussy.

Linda's palm slaps the door, unable to control herself in the face of so much overwhelming pleasure. I can feel those quivering, clenching spasms against my fingers, one orgasm becoming two becoming three as I continue rubbing and thrusting and forcing more and more climaxes out of her needy cunt. If this was closing time, I'd be happy to keep going until she was drenched with sweat and there was a visible wet spot on the crotch of her outfit, but we don't have time for that. Not in the middle of her route and twenty minutes away from my next rush of customers.

So I pull my fingers out and shove them in Linda's mouth, pushing the tank top out to slide loosely back down over her chest. I can't help smiling as she mindlessly licks herself off of my flesh with a blank, eager abandon that makes my clit throb and my cunt leak like a fucking faucet. I hook my slender digits carefully around her lower jaw and tug her downwards, supremely gratified by the way that my lightest touch achieves what my full body weight and possibly a pulley wouldn't be able to do under normal circumstances. Linda sinks to her knees, and it's the work of a moment for me to shimmy out of my panties and lift my skirt up over her head to give the helpless woman easy access to my soaking pussy.

She doesn't need me to tell her what to do, but that doesn't stop me from saying it. "Lick me, slave," I purr, so consumed with the thrill of dominance that every inch of my skin feels like it's incandescent with arousal. "Fuck my pussy with your tongue until I cum on your face." I can feel her down there, parting my labia and burrowing her way as far in as she can reach while she grunts and moans like an animal. She's trying to talk, to tell me that she's my obedient slave and she lives to obey, but it's hard to make out the words with her mouth full like that.

God, she's got an amazing tongue. She finds my clit within seconds, flicking back and forth and around and around until my fingers are gripping her head through the fabric of my skirt and pressing her tightly into my mound. I don't need to see her down there to imagine exactly what she looks like with her lips firmly sealed against my cunt and her eyes closed in mindless, obedient rapture. I know from memory what she looks like when she's eating my pussy, and it's absolutely fucking perfect.

She reaches around to grip my ass and literally, physically lifts me off the floor in an attempt to push her tongue deeper into my cunt. I can feel my toes wiggling, my shoes slipping off and falling maybe an inch to the bare concrete as I'm held aloft in her strong arms. It's the strangest blend of helplessness and total control, knowing that my body is nothing more than a plaything in her firm grasp but that all her power is bent to obeying my will. It's the best feeling in the world, and it blows the top of my head off with pleasure. I cum with a high, wordless wail that I'm sure they can hear from the front room.

What the hell. I'll say that we accidentally triggered the security system.

When I finally come down from my firecracker string of climaxes, I tap the back of Linda's head three times. She sets me down and slides out from under my skirt, her chin slick with my juices, and flutters her eyelids open as she comes out of the trance. "T-thank you, Mistress," she whispers, picking up my wet panties and handing them back to me.

I don't bother putting them on. Instead, I use them to mop up the mess between my thighs before reaching into her jumpsuit as she stands up. "A little reminder for the rest of your route," I say, working the damp fabric in between her labia as far as I can get it to go before I pull my hand free and zip her up. The startled, shy look on her face is going to stay with me the rest of the day.

"Now come on, pretty girl," I say, nodding to the door behind us. "We've got to get that shipment checked in, don't we?" Linda's head bobs up and down vaguely, but I can tell she doesn't have her mind on business anymore. She's reliving every second of our sexual encounter in her head, savoring the pleasure of her uncharacteristic weakness in the face of my subtle strength, and I already know that she'll be stopping by around closing time for a second round. And when she does... I intend to take my time with her.

THE END