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Valentine’s Day. I fucking hate Valentine’s Day. Everyone is “in love” but me. Being forty and single is difficult enough, but add Valentine’s Day to the mix, and its absolute hell. I have been on a dating frenzy this past year. Met some real nice guys, but I didn’t make any love connections. They were either funny, but completely unattractive or hot as hell and dumb as a rock. It’s going to be a very, very long day.
When she first mentioned that I would make an excellent mistress, I was confused. Should I be flattered or insulted? What did she mean by “mistress”? Did I look like the type that would fuck a married man?
But that’s not what she meant.
Mary Ellen was the owner and proprietor of an adult toy shop. I have been single most of my adult life with a few quick relationships mixed in. The only real pleasure I could count on was Bob (my battery operated boyfriend). However, Bob liked different oils and lubes and an occasional upgrade to the clit critter attachment. It took me years to become comfortable with myself enough to actually use my toys, but to be a frequent costumer in a store…
Little did I know that Mary Ellen was not only running a toy shop, but also a dungeon. No prostitution of any kind, legal, safe, and anonymous. The clients as well as the mistresses had complete anonymity. Only Mary Ellen knew the identities of her costumers and she was the epitome of discretion. When a client would come for his appointment, she alone would escort them down the back stairs to the basement, the dungeon. Once he paid his “bill”, she would shackle him to whatever to the device of his choice, a pole, a bed, or even a crib. Then she would disguise him with a black hood with a mask.
Anyway, a few weeks ago, as I was making my purchase of a new water soluble lubricant for Bob and I, when Mary Ellen and I got to chatting about men and money, my least favorite topics. “You would make an excellent mistress” she said.
“Excuse me. Did you say “mistress?” Then she reaches under the counter and hands me a pamphlet, BSDM — Submissive Play for the Adventurous Adult. “So many of my clients ask for a redhead and your long hair is would really bring in the cash. It’s completely safe and anonymous. I have all types of ladies that work for me, teachers, accountants, even a lawyer.”
“I don’t think that’s for me. But thanks for the, uh, complement.” Mary Ellen put the pamphlet in my bag, told me to read it and think it over. I could make easy cash and I just might enjoy myself.
Five weeks later, it’s Valentine’s Day and I am working as a mistress for Mary Ellen. Just one night a week for a few hours. The pay is phenomenal and it is actually kind of fun. Definitely empowering.
She saves the easy ones for me. I am still what she likes to call a “mistress in training” with only 5 slaves under my belt. My very first client was an older gentleman, I think. He was into the baby scenario. When I walked into his cell, he was laying in an oversized makeshift crib wearing a diaper. He asked if he could call me “mama” and I had to spank him for making “poo poo” in his diaper. I made $125 that night on him alone. Oh the stories I will have to tell, if I ever görükle escort get the nerve up to tell anyone what I do in the evenings.
When I am in my leather costume, the only thing that really shows is my hair, which I pull back into a pony tail. I wear a mask and gloves and black boots with 5 inch heels. Slaves have absolutely no idea who I am and I don’t have any idea who they are. Perfect.
My client for tonight was a newbie. Mary Ellen gives me just a quick background on him. My client tonight, on February 14th was a virgin to BDSM. He actually has a gift certificate for it. Apparently his friends bought it as a gag and he said “What the hell? Never know you like it till you try, right?” according to Mary Ellen.
He begins to talk. “Excuse me, who’s there?” His voice is different. Masculine without being macho. Manly and articulate. I am instantly aroused. This is going to be a fun one. Before I walk into the cell, I get my mistress act on. Being as bitchy down here as I want to be in real life…now I am in the dungeon.
“Shut up! You talk when your mistress allows.” I reply attempting to disguise my voice.
“Oh, sorry. I am new to this.”
“Did I ask a question? Now shut up and get ready. Before I begin your pleasure, slave, do I need to review the rules?”
“No madam.”
“I am your mistress, not your madam. We need a safe word, your choice, as long as it’s not ouch.”
“Um, how about cellophane?”
“That’s a new one. You are a creative slave that I get to punish tonight.”
“It’s just that lately I feel like cellophane, you know, see-through.”
Although I completely understood his feelings and I absolutely loved the analogy (hmm, a man with a creative brain…interesting), I raise my leather flogger and ‘crack’ right on his ass. “I didn’t ask for your life story, boy!”
Crack! Crack!
I raise my whip for the next one and …
“CELLOPHANE!” he yells out.
“Jesus, slave. That was a quickie. I hope you enjoyed your punishment. Mary Ellen will be in soon to untie you and give you some instructions.” I step out of the room and shut the door behind me. It’s a waste that I didn’t get to see his face. I would ask Mary Ellen his name, but that is against her rules. Slave and Mistresses will always remain anonymous, no exceptions.
I go in the changing room and put on my street clothes, just a old pair of jeans and a sweater. By the time I get to the back door, Mary Ellen is there with my tip. “What the hell did you do so quickly? He left you a $150 tip!”
“Three hits and he was done. I know you can’t tell me anything about him, but can you tell me one little thing?”
“That depends. What do you want to know?”
“Is he handsome?”
“He was an attractive guy. Nice smile and sweet brown eyes.”
As I remove my costume, I decide to enjoy my Valentines’ Day the best way I can. I say my goodbyes and head out to enjoy the rest of my Valentine’s Day at my favorite pizza place.
Parking is a bitch, so I park a few blocks away. It’s cold outside, blustery winds, but the pizza is worth the walk. I come up to the door at the same time as a man approaching from the opposite bursa görükle escort direction. He reaches for the door and gently grazes my hand. With a quick glance I can tell he is tall with dark brown hair, conservatively dressed in a button down shirt and jeans. He has very kind brown eyes. As he moves in toward me I can smell him, clean, not over done with cologne.
“Excuse me. Ladies first,” he says just above a whisper.
“Thanks.” I give him my filthy smile, after all I am only human, and walk in. The place is packed with couples enjoying the best pizza in the city. I walk up to the counter, noticing kind brown eyes behind me. I reach the counter and give my order.
“Large Pizza with double pepperoni, please.”
“Ha Ha! That’s exactly what I was going to order,” he says under his breath.
The counter girl says, “Sorry we are low on pepperoni. No double orders tonight.”
Just as I begin to say alright, the man begins politely interrupts. “I was going to order pepperoni, too. Can we just put our two pizzas together? Oh, if that’s alright with you? If you wouldn’t mind sharing with a stranger?”
The flirtatious frenzied dater in me agrees, of course, and so does the young girl behind the counter. How could she deny two lonely people on Valentine’s Day? “Would you like it for here or to-go?” she asks with a sly smile across her face.
Without hesitation, I reply, “To-go. Oh, I am sorry. Would you prefer eating here?” With that I am praying he wants to get out of here. I am more than horny and he is really cute. I quick Valentine’s Day fuck might be nice. Definitely worth a go.
“Your place or mine?” He laughs and so do I. We introduce ourselves and pass the time with small talk until the pizza is ready. He is so friendly and talking with him is not only interesting but also easy. I am trying to flirt but I am not putting on my best game. He agrees to go to my place since I live just 10 minutes away.
We ate and talked for what seemed hours about everything and anything from movies, books to childhood and even religion and politics. Thank god I had some beer in the refrigerator. Alcohol always helps me relax a bit when trying to flirt.
This guy is definitely different. He is funny and intelligent. I fall at ease so quickly with him. Most men I have dated have either turned my on because they are just cute or just funny, never both. It’s hard to find someone who is funny AND cute, but adding smart to the mix just makes me wonder if I should just knock him out and tie him up in my bedroom. I can’t let this one get away.
As we sit at the dining room table, finishing off the beer, I notice that his leg is touching mine. I slowly rock my leg back and forth. Just this light touch is making me hot. Suddenly he gets up to leave. Maybe I spooked him, too much too soon. He might just want a friend, which I can do very easily, but I am dying to get laid and he is too perfect. He really seems like a great guy. I walk him to the door and thank him for a wonderful evening. “I haven’t enjoyed a Valentine’s Day in years.”
“Me either. This was great. We’ll have to do it again soon.”
Oh great! Like I haven’t bursa eskort heard the “we’ll do it again” or “I’ll call you’. Maybe he is just the typical man who runs, but without getting a piece of ass. That never happened before. And I was getting that warm and fuzzy feeling again. Oh well, don’t dwell. I did have a great conversation and absolutely delicious pizza. I could always use another friend, especially one that I can talk enjoy talking to so much.
We reach the door. There is an awkward silence. He stumbles over his words, “Good night and happy valentine’s day.”
“You, too.”
With what seems like an eternity, we stand at the doorway just staring in each other’s eyes. Finally, as if he couldn’t take it anymore, he kisses me. With the slightest touch his lips meet mine. Sweet and soft. He pulls away and we both have a smile. Without any hesitation, I lean forward and get on my tiptoes to meet him. I kiss him. First, sweet and innocent. Then I slowly move my tongue between his lips only to meet his tongue waiting for me only the other side. With a quick move of his right hand, he grabs my head and plunges his tongue deeply. He moves his tongue around as if to be exploring every inch of my mouth. My knees get week but I can’t stop. He removes his hand from my head and wraps his arms around my back pulling me into him as I gently thrust my hips into his crotch. His hands start to explore my body. First, my lower back then down on my ass. His kisses are wet and hard, and then quickly change to soft little flicks to his tongue. His hands move back up to my waist. He slides his hand into the waistline of my jeans. I can feel his cock grow hard against me and heat begins rising from between my legs. As he starts to suck on my lower lip, his hand reaches under my panties against my bare ass. I groan with excitement and anticipation. If his kisses make me wet, what would sex be like? I can’t stop kissing and grinding against him. He tastes so good and we are so in synch. I start moving my hips back and forth into him.
He moves from my lips and slowly kisses my cheeks, then down to my neck. I moan as he moves his right hand to the front of me. Without stopping his sucking on my neck, he moves his hand to my tits, rubbing on the outside of my shirt. My nipples grow like hard little pebbles with each movement of his fingers. With one smooth motion, he slips his thumb under my shirt and bra. His thumb rubs my erect nipple. I moan a bit louder and our breathing gets heavier. He moves back to my mouth, slamming his thick tongue deep into my mouth as it was his cock. He hand squeezing my tits making me moan louder and louder.
With one movement he removes his hands from my tits and grabs my face. It is my ultimate kissing turn- on. I feel like I am in the final love scene of a chick flick where the leading man gets the girl and kisses her deeply and passionately. I am beyond turned on at this point. My panties are wet and I fear that the moistness will be apparent through my jeans. His cock is hard as a rock against me. I move my leg over so his cock would be right between my legs, if only our jeans weren’t blocking. Oh god, I wish he would just fuck me right now up against the open door.
He gives me one last kiss, sweet and soft. “Tomorrow, dinner, my place.” So he’s not running. My smile must have taken up my entire face.
He steps outside onto the porch, but turns to me and smiles…
He whispers …
“Cellophane.”
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