I was sitting at a table in the corner of the pub waiting for my drink to arrive.
The Travellers Rest is a pub about five miles from the outskirts of the city. It's an eighteenth century coaching inn and has retained a lot of its Olde Worlde charm.
I looked around the room and saw the pub was about half full with a mixture of couples and singles either drinking or eating lunch.
There was a couple not too far away that looked like the typical middle aged man and wife. They weren't talking and he was staring into his pint. She was glancing around the room when I noticed she was looking at me. I looked back and she quickly looked away. She was an attractive woman in her forties, I would say, probably in a sexless marriage by the look of her husband. I saw her glance at the bar then straight back at me. I smiled.
A pint of beer was placed before me and Aunt Cynthia sat down to the side of me with her glass of red wine. Aunt Cynthia was wearing a very smart business suit having just come from a meeting with her financial advisers in the city.
'Well this is pleasant, a young nephew and his old aunt having a civil lunchtime drink,' she said as she leaned over and kissed me on the cheek.
The married woman glared.
'Thank you Aunt Cynthia,' I lifted my glass and toasted her health. 'I think that lady over there thinks I'm your gigolo,' gesturing in their direction. Aunt Cynthia discreetly turned and saw the woman looking.
'Let's give her something to look at then,' she said mischievously as she placed her hand on my knee and slowly worked its way up to my crotch. I nearly spat my beer all over the table.
'Aunt Cynthia!' I whispered in shock. She continued to caress my cock and balls under the table although it would have been obvious to the woman what was happening.
Soon I had a raging hard on.
Aunt Cynthia then grabbed the back of my head and brought my face in for a deep, hard kiss. I looked over and the woman was staring, her mouth open in shock.
My mother had gone off for the day with Mrs Simpson one of her Bridge Group of friends to London shopping. I was actually looking forward to spending the day alone but was dragged out of the house by my aunt and thought I wouldn't enjoy it although I was beginning to. We had a second round of drinks, paid for by Aunt Cynthia, and then the conversation steered towards me coming back home.
'So Harry, how do you like being back home with your mother?'
I just looked down at my drink not knowing what to say. I knew that Aunt Cynthia was aware of what was going on between my mother and me.
'How long have you known you were submissive Harry?'
'Can we change the subject please,' I asked.
'No. I really want to know how all this started,' she said.
I explained about the spankings and how I started to enjoy them to the extent that I needed to get away to see if I could escape Mother's clutches.
I then told her the story of my life working in the hotels and what made me the way I am.
It started the day I was tricked into helping one of the older cleaning ladies and finding myself trapped in a linen closet.
She came up to me and started to kiss me. 'Shouldn't we get back?' I asked after it got a bit passionate and my cock was starting to press the cotton of my trousers. She could obviously feel it rubbing against her leg as she dropped to her knees, unbuckled my belt and eased my zip down. Then when she got my trousers down to my ankles she gasped, 'my God, where did you get this from? It is huge!'
My nine inches of throbbing cock was pulsing in her hand.
Without saying anything else she had devoured it, sucking and slurping on its length.
I was soon feeling the tingling in my balls and tried to warn her. This just encouraged her more as I came hard and long right down her throat. She carried on sucking until she was sure she had fully milked me and swallowed the lot.
'Oh my, you are going to be in high demand when I tell all the other girls about this,' she said as she straightened up and left the closet with my pants still around my ankles.
I had been out with a couple of girls my own age since I'd been in London but without much success. One took a look at my cock and point blank refused to let me fuck her. I lost my virginity to a twenty two year old unmarried mother of three who was a bit of a slapper. Mostly though when I went out to pubs and clubs I never pulled.
Now I was being dragged into closets and guest bedrooms on a daily basis.
One day one of the older supervisors got me in a bedroom and told me I was only available to her and the other two supervisors. They were pulling rank on the others and that suited me as all three were quite attractive and all had good figures.
By now I was nearly nineteen and working as a cocktail barman from five pm until midnight so most afternoons I was being fucked by one of the the older married supervisors.
One evening I was working when Joyce Grenville came into the bar with some of the hotel managers. Mrs Grenville was one of the two hotel General Managers the other, Mr Johnson, was the man who had appointed me. I didn't know Mrs Grenville very well other than she was married to one of the hotel's owners.
She was a petite woman in her late fifties, always very stylishly dressed and well made up with short blonde hair in a pixie cut and piercing blue eyes. She was a very attractive slim lady but no one let that fool them as I'd heard she was ruthless. I was determined to be on my best behaviour that night.
I made them their order of cocktails and took them over to their table, presenting them with a slip to sign.
'Harry is it?' asked Mrs Grenville looking at my name tag.
'Yes Ma'am,' I replied with what I thought to be a dazzling smile. She just signed the slip and dismissed me making me feel a little deflated.
I was tidying the bar when she walked behind it and started to check everything was in order, not saying a word.
In a voice that no one could hear she asked me what time the bar closed. I told her midnight. She asked how long it took me to cash up. I said about half an hour. She placed her card with her room number written on it and told me to be there at twelve thirty then walked back to her colleagues.
At the exact time she told me I was gently knocking on the door of her suite.
She bade me in and locked the door before sitting on the sofa in the room and crossing her legs. My eyes couldn't help but be attracted to her slim legs and the sounds her stockings made as they rasped together. I just stood there with my hands behind my back awaiting orders.
'So Harry. How do you like working at the hotel?'
I explained I really loved working there especially as I got to meet so many interesting people in the hotel bar.
'And what about the staff?' she asked.
I told her that nearly all the staff were very pleasant and great to work alongside.
'What about the ones who fuck you?'
I stood there motionless.
'Cat got your tongue Harry?' she said as she stood up and walked towards me. Even in her three inch heels she was still shorter than me.
'Oh I've heard a lot about you Harry. How you are servicing the hotel Supervisors. Using the hotel's bedrooms for your sexual gratification.'
I tried to say something but the stern look I received made me think it wouldn't be wise.
'Don't worry about them Harry. They won't be bothering you again as I have threatened them with expulsion should they go anywhere near you.'
I must have had a disappointed look on my face.
'You see Harry, from now on you'll be fucking me. And only me!'
Now I was really thrown. Here was a married woman who was also the General Manager of the hotel and married to the owner saying that I was basically her pet fuck toy.
'Why don't you strip for me? Let me see what all the fuss is about.'
It took a couple of seconds to register but I came to my senses and realised that when this woman says strip I had better strip.
