We had hoped to meet for breakfast, but she was running much later that morning than she’d hoped; I met her for coffee just before her single class of the day (buying her a book of lolcats at the bookstore next door to the coffee shop, just because), and escorted her to class. After going to buy some bath salts and bubbles for our ritual bath I returned to wait for her just outside the building where her class was held. My mistress once had a girlfriend who complained when she did that. My mistress’s girlfriend must have been crazy not to be flattered silly. I do daydream of my mistress waiting for me at the door after work…

After lunch at my mistress’s favourite Chinese restaurant, we headed to the hotel room I’d booked, a series of converted townhouses not far from downtown. It wasn’t what I’d hoped; it had needed renovating some time ago, and the room was cold; late autumn is not terribly forgiving in her city. But it did the job. We lay down on the bed and made out: I showered my mistress with kisses and then reaching under her pantyhose and panties and rubbing her clit until she came; she returned the favour by forcing me down onto the bed and dry-riding me, taking off her blouse and tempting me with her breasts…ohh…

It ended far too soon. The mistress wanted her bath.

The bath water, when we ran it, took a very long time to heat up–but we made do. I held my mistress in the bath while she shaved her legs–she’d been in such a rush she hadn’t had time. It occurred to me I hadn’t watched a woman do that before. It was something of a privilege watching it now, another side of her I hadn’t seen.

She’d asked me the night before to make sure I licked her pussy that day. I didn’t need to be asked twice, of course…we dried off and she lay on the bed, and I licked and sucked her clit, slipping in a finger, then two. My mistress decided, for some reason, she wanted one more. She never has trouble lubricating, so it went in surprisingly easily.

Thing is my mistress (so far) has rarely gotten much pleasure from pure penetration, but the sensation of my three fingers inside her felt so good that she had to ask me to stop licking her clit, just so she could satisfy herself that it was in fact my fingers inside her doing the work of getting her off this time. Not that she wanted me to stop for long; I finger-fucked her with three fingers and licked her clit until she shuddered and came.

We relaxed for a bit, and cuddled under the covers. I kissed her and told her I loved her, and ran my hand over her body…but my mistress directed my hand to her ass. She loves having it played with, and it hadn’t had attention yet.

She got on all fours, her gorgeous ass in the air; I kissed her ass, I admit, before I started to finger-fuck her pussy again with one hand, while I lubed up a finger of the other hand and eased into into her ass. That’s as much as she’d ever taken before, but today she wanted more. I was a bit reluctant–last time I’d finger her ass something had gone wrong. Certinaly I was more careful this time, going as slowly as I could, easing the first finger all the way in, then lubing up thesecond and managing slowly and surly to ease them both inside as far as they would go, at last starting to finger-fuck her ass.

She admitted later that she’d mostly asked me to do it just to be able to say she had; she didn’t quite believe the stories on sex blogs of women passing out from sheer pleasure from their first time being sodomized. But as it was–my mistress made noises of ecstasy that even she’d never heard herself make before, and looked back at me begging me to keep fucking my little slut as hard as I could–which I did, cheering her on while she rubbed her clit to drive herself over the edge…

The day was worth it just to see and hear her as she exploded. It was amazing for us both. Something I hadn’t seen from her before, but I’d like to see again. I hope she won’t mind…

—

My mistress couldn’t lie with me in afterglow too long, though. She had to work later, and I had another date that afternoon. My mistress had recommended her highly. I’d serviced her plenty for that day, it was time for someone to service me.

I’ve seen professionals before, and invariably the customer and the professional get to know each other first. Ada, bless her, knew I hadn’t really invited her in to talk, and didn’t try to pretend I had.

I sat on the bed, and Ada knelt before me, giving me an exquisite blow job, the slutty look in her eyes letting me know she really enjoys her profession, and sucking cock in particular. It would have been all too easy to come in her mouth, but I didn’t want to; I wanted her on top of me, to ride my cock until I came deep in her pussy…

Thing was I actually came a bit too quickly–too much tension built up when my love had been there with me. No matter…Ada was professional about it, and was very helpful in reviving my cock, giving me a nice hand job, then sucking me some more. I did want to come in her mouth, so I had her kneel on the ground before me while I stood over her, stroking my cock, while she alternately sucked me and offered me her body to come on, half-whispering all the filthy things I could do to her if I wanted, bend her over, fuck her in every hole, come on her and in her…

What on earth was I doing standing there and stroking my cock listening to that when I could be doing it?

I ordered her back onto the bed. I had to fuck her, and I did, hard and fast from behind, and in no time at all I was moaning and coming in her pussy…oh, it was good…

—

We lay down afterwards and cuddled; Ada’s services include post-coital cuddling, too. Very unusual for a professional, but having enjoyed her fantasy of being a high-class hooker my mistress (for it was she all the time, of course) did want to be held, for it wasn’t long until she really did have to go to work.

So many sides to my mistress, and I love them all.

I’d wanted a change of scene, and I’d booked us a room in a four-star hotel. A desk and an armchair with an ottoman, perfect for playing games with. She looked good enough to eat in a black blouse and a black skirt that could have been a French maid’s–though her ensemble could just as easily be a sexy secretary, particularly with her dark lipstick and pink glasses.

We did have fun the next morning, playing Filthy Boss and Sexy Secretary, but that night my mistress planned to be the one in control. She ordered me into the armchair, and got into my lap, dry-humping me a while, slowly unbuttoning her top, her black bra, to offer me her breasts to suck. She knows the power she has over me when she does that, and revels in it.

We took our bath, by now a ritual with us; we put the lights out, and enjoyed a pleasant fantasy where she was a mystery woman who suddenly found her way into my bath, and let me play with her, caressing her pussy and fingering her ass until she came.

Then the fun really began.

I lay naked on the bed, and she blindfolded me and bound my hands together, so I couldn’t struggle as she teased me to distraction. She rubbed the massage bar on my chest, the one that I normally use on her for her backrubs, and gave me a long, slow full-body massage. Not just the sensation of her slick, warm skin and her soft breasts, but of her wet hair from the bath. It felt good as she slid down my body, to take my penis into her mouth.

Then she ordered me onto my hands and knees, offering her my ass, so she could finger-fuck it and at last lube up and slide in the butt plug she’d had me buy and bring. Oh, I moaned in delight, and agreed when she called me a whore, the way she likes me to abuse her. She touched my cock, and marveled on how hard I’d gotten all of a sudden. She should know why, surely? Mmm…fucking is good, but getting fucked is better.

Soon she had me lie back down, and with the plug in me she rode me hard, moaning while I squeezed her ass and rubbed her clit until she came hard with my hard cock inside her; then she lay down, and (not without a little difficulty) I fucked her on top, the way she really likes me to, pounding her with my weight on top of her as she begged me to come for her…after a while of this I moved up so she could suck my cock and I could face-fuck her a little, at last ulling out of her mouth and jerking my cock until I shot all over her pretty face and neck…god, it was good!

Then, of course, I ordered her cheesecake from room service and fed it to her in bed. Like you do after giving your love a facial.

We spent most of the rest of the night cuddling in bed, at turns laughing at the Sex and the City movie and exchanging hot kisses. We couldn’t wait for it to end so we could get back to serious making out…

I was sure rather that one does not leave the woman one loves in want if one can prevent it. And, I confess, one of my fantasies concerning her is as seeing her as the young assistant professor at a prestigious college, the desire of the male faculty, the envy (and desire) of the women. My Young Mistress tells me (how much in jest I don’t know) that she’s sure I’ll find her far too old once she turns twenty. She needn’t worry. If she’s such an accomplished lover now, I’m more than happy to stay to see how amazing she is when she’s an experienced woman of the world.

I tease her that she might become a cougar…though I do hope she doesn’t outgrow me. I shouldn’t be too old for her; when she gets her PhD I’ll still be a young man at forty…

—

Lunch at a Japanese restaurant downtown. Just as we were finishing up, she went to the bathroom; when she came back she rubbed my shoulders as I sat in my chair, whispering in my ear, “I could do this all the time if we lived together. Would you like that?”

“Yes,” I said, and kissed her. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

The waitress smiled as she brought the bill, and did not try to rush us. We must go there again.

—

After lunch we walked to the old city, and to the old port. A while ago my Mistress had wondered couldn’t we take the ferry over to the park on one of the islands in the middle of the river that flows past her city. I liked the idea at once of seeing the wind blow in her hair…

When we made it to the dock, we bought two tickets to the ferry. The next one wasn’t for another 40 minutes, so we sat on a bench, cuddled, and began to kiss deeply until she said, “Stop it! You’re making me want to fuck you!”

Of course when I stopped she asked me to kiss her again…

She lay down on the bench, her head in my lap, and looked up at me as I stroked her hair and looked into her eyes, and started to get hard, my erection poking into the back of her head.

“Does he miss me?” she asked.

“Yes…he does.”

“Would he like to play when we get to the island?”

“Mmm…I think he would…”

I ran my finger over her face, her lips; she took them into her mouth and sucked on them, as a preview of things to come.

Two old women were sitting beside us speaking in another language, pretending not to notice.

At last the ferry arrived. We embarked, and as I was about to sit my young mistress ordered me to spread my legs. It was so she could sit between them, but for a moment I wondered did she really intend to suck me off right there…

As it was, I held her all the way to the island. kissing her cheek and her neck. It was heavenly, and far too short.

—

This wasn’t the first time my Young Mistress had seduced someone in a park–or even in this park. She and a girlfriend had come here occasionally to make love. We walked for a few minutes through the park, watching the groundhogs play, and at last she led me off into a picnic area hidden from view of the main path by trees and hedges. Or at least, that was the excuse for having this hidden area. One can just as easily have a picnic in full view. You have to wonder whether they put these areas here for just this purpose…

We wasted no time. We kissed deeply, and she lay down on the grass, so I could kiss her and unbutton her blouse, ravish her neck and squeeze and suck on her breasts. I slipped a hand into her pants and rubbed her pussy and her clit, but it wasn’t long before the mosquitos started to bother her enough that she had to ask me to stop. In the fantasy of public sex, mosquitos never seem to play a role.

No matter. My Mistress had other plans for me. She buttoned up her blouse and pushed me onto the grass, pulled out my cock and started to suck and jerk me, very wetly. She hadn’t had me shoot in er mouth ina  while, and she’d missed it… With the distractions of a public park, vehicles driving by and so forth, it took me a while to give her what she wanted, but finally I was able to relax, forget everything but the sensations in my cock, and just let go in her warm, wet mouth, so she could swallow every drop…

—

She still hadn’t finished. SHe didn’t finish until later, when I”d gone home and we were reliving the experience on the phone, when I was telling her how hot it had been and how much I’d have wanted to see her make out with her lover in Spain, or maybe even her old girlfriend in the park in her city, getting hard and jerking off to the sight of her getting off…

By the sound she made when she came, I think her orgasm was worth the wait.

Our fantasies didn’t run quite that way, though, not that day.

I’d booked us a gold room in her favourite hotel. She hasn’t spent the night with me since she came to my city, and nothing but the best would do for tonight. We checked in, and marveled at some of the furniture in the room, such as an armchair with an ottoman, which seemed specifically designed for sex. She had me sit on the chair, undressed down to her panties and tantalized me with her body, pulling in close enough to let me suck on her breasts.

“What are you doing?…” I asked

“I do this with all my patients,” said my mistress. “Lie back and let me treat you, and tell me more about your problem?”

“Well, doctor, I was a boring civil…servant,” I struggled to say. “But then I was seduced by a beautiful girl I met online…”

—

We didn’t stick with the doctor fantasy too long. Bathing together has become a ritual for us, when we get together, and my little girl wanted her bath with Daddy. My mistress has gotten quite fond of playing daddies and little girls. As for me, her little girl persona and voice never fail to get me hard…

“You and Daddy haven’t taken a bath together in a while, have we?” I asked, finally getting undressed.

“No, Daddy,” said my little girl.

We filled the bath (after making out a little, and my eating her out some while she sat on the sink), and put the lights out to alter the mood; I got in first and she followed, feigning surprise at my hard cock. “Daddy! What’s that?”

“My thing gets hard like that when I see a pretty girl. Especially you…”

“Can I touch it?”

“Sure…”

She did, for a little bit, then lay down with her back to me as I cradled her in my arms.

“Did you have fun abroad?”

“Uh-huh.”

“What did you do?”

“I saw museums…I went to the beach…”

“I don’t suppose you met any boys?”

“No, Daddy! Why would I do that?”

Of course she had. She’d already told me how her encounter with the man I’d found for her online had gone. She’d liked him at once–cute in a Clark Kent sort of way, and very similar tastes to hers in art and music. She’d ended up spending her whole time in Barcelona with him, seeing the sights. Apparently it had come as a complete surprise when she seduced him…I could relate to that…

“Oh. Are you sure?”

“Of course, Daddy.”

“Okay…”

“Could you wash me now?”

“Sure.”

And I did, washing her legs first, then her arms, her back and her front and her pussy, before she offered me her ass, and I slipped a finger inside, finger-fucking her ass for her pleasure.

—

“Daddy?”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“I lied to you earlier. I did meet a boy.”

“What?”

We had dried off and now we lay naked on the bed, she looking deep into my eyes.

“I’m sorry…he was really nice…”

“What did he do to you?”

“He was really nice. He took me to museums…then he took me to the beach…I wore my pretty red bikini…and…”

“Yes?”

“We saw two girls kissing, and it made me wet…so I asked him to play with my boobs…and then…we went to the park, and it was getting dark…so we went behind a hedge…and I let him play with my pussy…and then…I bent over and let him put his thing in me…I’m sorry, daddy…”

“Sweetheart. You’re telling me you let some man I don’t even know play with you. And you lied to me about it. And you lied about not knowing what grown-ups do together. I’m going to have to punish you.”

I had her bend over the bed, and I took the belt from my trousers and gave her several belts with it on the ass, telling her just what a slut I thought she was.

“Daddy that hurts!”

“Well, it should. Teach you a lesson for being such a slut. Fucking men you don’t even know when Daddy’s not around…”

“I’m sorry…!”

“Yeah?” I said, feeling her (obviously!) wet pussy. “I don’t think you’re sorry at all. Look at how wet you are…you know what? I don’t feel like being your daddy right now. I’m getting horny. I want you to be a dirty little slut for me too and make me come. Get on your knees and suck me.”

“Daddy…!”

“NOW.”

Of course she put up only token resistance, and soon she was on her knees in front of me, licking my cock, every inch the slut.

“I bet you like sucking me off like a little slut, don’t you?”

“No, I don’t…” she whined.

“Well, if you don’t like it, there’s the door.”

And she bolted–into the wardrobe, where I followed her in.

“You think you can escape that easily?”

She ran again, into the bathroom…but then my little girl seemed to have realized she was cornered, and the only way to get daddy back to his usual self was to make him come.

“Daddy? Will you forgive me if I let you fuck me from behind?”

“Maybe…”

I didn’t make her beg. She knelt on the bed, her pretty ass in the air, and I pounded her as hard as I could, using her hard like she likes me to do, filling her with my cock; it wasn’t long before I had a powerful, satisfying orgasm. I went into the bathroom to throw away the condom and came back to lie in her arms, all the aggression and jealousy gone, and I was Daddy again.

“Daddy has a confession to make too. Daddy wasn’t really that angry.”

“Then why–”

“Daddy wanted to do that for a long time. But he didn’t know how else he could…”

“Then you raped me?”

My little girl looked straight into my eyes, all seriousness.

“What?” I froze. Had I really gone too far?

“If you want me to forgive you…”

“Yes?”

“You can take me shopping,” she laughed, and held me tight. I was relieved–relieved I hadn’t gone too far, but also that she had come home to me.

“I’m so glad, you’re home…” No longer the perverted father, I was nothing so much as a little boy needing reassurance that he was loved after all.

“Shh…” she said, and held and stroked me, oddly maternal. But why not? Sometimes little boys need mommies too.

My mistress understands that. She says sometimes she thinks maybe I wasn’t held enough as a child, that I never had a girl take care of me nearly enough. She might be right–another reason I’m lucky to have her.

And lucky that in spite of her adventures, she comes back to me. Would I have been as eager for her to meet the man if I thought she’d ever see him again? I don’t know. As it was–well, it was never likely she would  run off with him. She loves her family, her friends and her city too much, and she loves me too much. Even while she was having sex with him, she said, she wished I were the one fucking her. But she could have. Yes, I was jealous–and so even more overjoyed to see her come home. It made the reunion sex that bit hotter.

—

We went to dinner in the hotel restaurant, she in her sexy secretary outfit, as I already thought of it. We were easily the best dressed couple there. The other guests were dressed far too casually for a five-star hotel, my mistress complained.

She had a cocktail with her dinner. We’d thought of going to a movie later, but when we got back up to the room, she asked me to put out the PRIVACY PLEASE sign, and unbutton her dress for her.

“Daddy, I’m a little tipsy. I can’t be held responsible for anything I do…”

We cuddled on the armchair, watching a few minutes of a movie on television, me still dressed, she still naked under a bathrobe; at last I undressed and we crawled into bed, she stroking my cock for a few minutes. The cocktail must have been stronger than I thought, because to tease me she made a show of going to sleep, and in no time at all actually was. I hadn’t the heart to wake her, and it had been a long day for us both, so I turned over and slept myself.

We only slept a couple of hours though. We woke about 2:30am, and went right back to making out, ending with her on top of me, riding me to another hot orgasm (cowgirl’s my favorite position). Slept very well for the rest of the night, thank you.

—

The next morning she woke up next to me, the mascara in her eyes. I’d never seen her look more beautiful. It’s a crying shame I don’t see her lying next to me in the morning more often…

For breakfast I kissed and fingered her, and ended up licking and sucking her clit until she shuddered out a delicious orgasm; then I got on top of her, fucking her hard while she begged me to use her as her fucktoy. Very hot, but I couldn’t come that way, not that morning; in the end I knelt over her, jerking my cock while she looked into my eyes and stroked her breasts in invitation, urging me to come, rising to meet it when I finally did, squirting all over her lovely belly.

“Do you want a kleenex, love?” I asked when I was done, lying beside her.

“I want to admire my reward for a minute,” said my mistress. “Then I want a kleenex.”

All mornings should be like that with us…

She and her mother occupy the lower level of a duplex on a sidestreet in an ethnically diverse neighbourhood of her city. Her mother would not be back for a few days. I’d always been tempted to pass by her house, just to see what it looked like. I’d never dreamed I’d be invited over. As it was, my heart was pounding as I walked up the street to her house, trying to act as normally as possible, giving directions to a passerby, resisting the temptation to just walk past them. The thrill from the fear of getting caught by someone my love knew, being watched by the whole neighborhood, watching me ring the doorbell in the middle of the day. Who is that strange man…?

She answered the door in her nightdress with the plunging neckline. “Way to ring the wrong doorbell, dear.”

(The upstairs is occupied by her brother. Fortunately he was away on business, or things really could have gotten complicated…)

She led me into her bedroom, where I gave her some jewelry I’d bought her before she left (but not actually managed to give her). She sat on the bed, to shut off her computer (she’d been net-surfing to kill time before I arrived), but I couldn’t wait, and I know she likes it when I make to force myself upon her, so I pushed her down onto the bed amd started to ravish her. I must have given her a shock–normally she has to order me to be rough–but she didn’t complain. She laughed and kissed me deeply.

SHe felt my heart pounding. “Relax! You’d think you were about to have a heart attack!”

“I can’t believe I’m actually here…”

“Shhh…relax, you’re here…” she said, in a soothing voice, and stroked my hair. It’s a rare treat to see my mistress so gentle. Maternal, almost.

“I’m glad you’re home, love.”

“I’m glad I’m home, too.”

We didn’t waste much more time. She was naked under the nightdress. I lay beside and felt her wettening pussy, then got down and gave her a good pussy-licking until she shuddered out a long-awaited orgasm; then she had me get on top of her and fuck her as hard as I could, at turns telling me she loved me and urging me to use her, not caring who heard her in the street. And I did, until I was too tired to continue, working up a good sweat, not coming but not caring that I didn’t.

“How does it feel to be inside me?” she asked while I made love to her.

“Heaven. I’m in heaven.”

Amazing how romantic rough, animalistic sex can be, but it is.

—

For the last week my mistress had insisted I refrain from masturbating, even while she had me call her for amazing phone sex. She wanted me to be hungry when I saw her next, and save all my come for her…

Thursday we finally got together in her city. We could have gone to her favoured downtown hotel, but I had wanted a change of scene, and in any case I wouldn’t be seeing her for a while, so my romantic side came to the fore. I was able at the last minute to find a hotel offering lofts in the historic section of the city, one of the oldest in North America. We were not disappointed–the lofts was probably bigger than my apartment at home, and definitely better furnished, with a full kitchen and living room.

It also had a much larger bath than our regular hotel, so we took a bath first; we’d had to walk a bit in the old city to find it, to the annoyance of my mistress (it wasn’t quite where I thought it was, so I had to ask directions), and I was soaked with sweat. There was plenty of room for us to soak, cuddle and make out.

After the bath she sat on the couch, resting her feet on my knees so I could rub them, and remember who was the mistress. She picked out what she wanted, and while I ordered she changed into the sexy lingerie I’d got her. I’d asked her to bring her bikini as well, so she could model it for me and let me take pictures to remember her by while she was in Europe…

…except her camera’s battery was flat, as I only discovered when she was in her lingerie and posing on the windowsill.

“Let’s just have sex,” she suggested. Excellent idea.

She did decide to model her gorgeous red bikini for me. She put it on and she lay on her front, on the king size bed upstairs, while I massaged her with a massage bar, pretending to be a perverted father rubbing sunscreen into his little girl’s back (a common fantasy of ours), and telling her how pretty she was, before undoing the top and pulling down her bottom so I could massage her pretty ass.

Soon enough she was on her back, and I finger-fucked my little girl’s pussy until she came. After that she had me sit on the armchair and told me, “Daddy, I’ve been a bad girl. I just let a stranger fuck me. I think you should spank me…” And bent over the armchair so I could spank her cute ass.

When she was done I took her back to bed and gave her pussy a good licking, and was well on the way to bringing her off again when we heard a knock on the door–room service with our lunch. I swore, got off her and found my clothes so I could open the door. My mistress laughed. “At the other hotel lunch usually doesn’t come until after I do,” she said.

We ate lunch, naked, and went back to bed. We made out a little more, and almost at once I was hard as a rock.

“Do you want to fuck me?” she asked.

“Yes,” I said. “I don’t want to wait any more.”

She didn’t make me wait. She got on top of me and rode me. I didn’t make her wait either. After six days of abstention and teasing, I couldn’t have made her wait even if I’d wanted to. Within seconds I gave her all the come I had saved for her for six days, in one of the most powerful orgasms I’d had in years.

After that we cuddled for a few minutes, teasing each other over who was to sleep on the wet spot.

—

We weren’t there to sleep, though, and neither of us was anywhere near sated, so after a few minutes my mistress asked me to take her from behind over one of the many pieces of furniture in the living room. We settled on the ottoman and I fucked my mistress from behind, while she looked at herself in the glass of the fireplace; the living room rug was a little hard on the knees, though, and I wasn’t likely to come again so soon, so we moved back to the bed.

She had meant, I think, to suck me so she could get me hard as a rock to fuck me behind on the bed. She had me sit on her chest, and she took my cock into her mouth, licking and sucking my head while she looked up at me. There’s something about the look in her eyes when she sucks me, glazed over with lust, which gets me to let go of my inhibitions, turn off my mind, forget who I am and just be an animal in rut, thinking about nothing but coming. In no time at all I was moaning and fucking her mouth; through a haze I remember asking to come in her mouth, and then–oh GOD it was good–

With the first shot I snapped out of it, as she gagged on my come, taken by surprise at it hit the back of her throat. It’s amazing how quickly men’s lust disappears after they let go. Another shot went in her hair.

“I’m sorry,” I told her.

“It’s okay.”

“I really had meant to fuck you like you asked, but I got carried away…”

“It was kinda hot, you know.”

After that she was the one who really needed to wash. We took a shower together, and went back to bed, where we held each other for a long, long time. We still had plenty of time before she had to go home, and we don’t get to just hold each other nearly enough. I wound up worshipping her a little, kissing her up and down her back, then kissing her from head to toe. Funny thing, sex. You can be treating your partner like a come-dumpster one minute and a princess the next. She got back on top of me and I managed to get hard enough to fuck her missionary style for a little while–she likes the feel of my body on top of her, but there was no way I was going to stay hard enough long enough to bring her off. She had brought her dildo, so I fucked her with that while she brought herself off with her vibrator.

—

I stayed in the loft overnight. She thanked me for a wonderful day, telling me I always treat her like a queen. Funny thing, sex. You can be treating your partner like a come-dumpster one minute and a queen the next.

I’m going to miss my mistress.

I’d agreed to meet my Young Mistress at a bookstore near the university in her city. I was fairly sure what bus she would take that way, so I waited at the bus stop across the street from the university gates and waited for her there, expecting her to jump off the next bus. She didn’t, but it was all right; she’d said she might be a tiny bit late. So I waited for the next one, enjoying the summer morning and the people passing by. I couldn’t help noticing a daisy-fresh girl in a Catholic school uniform, white shirt and plaid skirt, walking down the street towards me. Shouldn’t she be in class…?

“Excuse me, miss?” I asked as she passed. “I’m looking for the university. I think it’s on this street…”

“I wouldn’t know where it is,” said my Young Mistress (for it was she). “I’m still in high school.”

Green socks, too. She’d gone all out. I’d seen her schoolgirl outfit before, and I was the one who’d asked her to bring it, but I hadn’t expected her to come wearing it. Not that I minded.

We went into the bookstore for a few minutes. I forgot myself and stood behind her caressing her back as she looked at a book, until she said, “Don’t you realize what you look like?”

Humbert. I stopped at least for the moment. Plenty of time to caress her later.

From the bookstore to a department store for makeup, then a main street lingerie store, to get her the outfit I’d promised her. An older man taking a Catholic schoolgirl makeup and lingerie shopping is odd enough a sight on a school day; even curiouser was how obviously it was Miss Haze who was in charge, making her Humbert hold her bags. Nobody, though, actually asked any questions, least of all why she wasn’t in school. Perhaps, I teased her in the lingerie store, they thought she was a courtesan and I was her client…

I helped her pick out a sheer black negligee and thong. She asked me to come into the changing room and see how she looked, but I was sure she looked amazing, and in any case, I was looking forward to the surprise…

—

From there to the love hotel/club. A quick walk from the subway, but not in the most fashionable part of town. Neither of us had ever been to a swinger’s club before. The fantasy about going to one had been hers;–I let my lady take the lead, and I probably would never have seriously suggested going to one otherwise. In reality, though, she’d admitted to me she was a little apprehensive about unwanted advances–though not enough not to go through with it, of course! I’d told her not to worry; she was less likely to be harassed in a swinger’s club than in a normal bar, or on the street.

In the event, we appeared to be the only ones there on a weekday. The club contains a spa and a sauna, and to maintain the illusion it’s a spa we were asked to change into towels and leave our clothes in a locker. Of course my mistress’s clothes were a prop, so we brought those with us to our room. My mistress had fantasized about the mirror room, but in the end we settled for the suite, which had a private shower. (The “regular rooms” are served by a common shower, an excellent excuse to check out other couples. Maybe next time, when there’s more people.)

We got to the room, where we started with me giving my mistress a good pussy licking, succking her clit until she had a nice orgasm. After a quick shower (where I paid special attention to my mistress’s pussy and ass), we redressed for our game. The daisy-fresh schoolgirl had been asked by her teacher to come to the special exam room, where, like all students at her Catholic school, she had to take a special exam before she could graduate. An exam where she had to prove she knew how to please a man, with three sections–oral, vaginal and anal…

The girl protested she’d never even kissed a boy before–though the teacher had heard she liked to play with girls, causing him to fight with one of the nuns over who was to administer the exam–but if she was telling the truth, she was a natural. She passed the oral section with flying colours, giving her teacher an amazing blowjob; for the vaginal section she climbed on top of him and fucked him with all her might, dropping the pretense of innocence and encouraging her teacher to be a good boy and come in her pussy…

It was enormous fun, watching my schoolgirl mistress ride me and listening to her filthy mouth; but for some reason I didn’t come–not yet, anyway–and cowgirl hurts my mistress’s knees, so after several minutes she climbed off me, a little disappointed I hadn’t come–not to mention sore. She needn’t have been I’d been in no great hurry to come–if I’d wanted to, I could easily have from her blowjob. I’d get off some way or other–and in any case, I wanted to see her play with her new toys.

She asked me to turn around while she changed into her new outfit…and when I turned around she looked even sexier than I’d imagined. Every inch Ada, the courtesan of her fantasies. I greeted her with a deep kiss. I hoped she hadn’t had too much trouble with her last client, delaying his orgasm till the very last moment and making her work far too hard…time for less strenuous games…

She asked me to get her a drink from the vending machine in the hall, and we lay down on the bed, and she pulled off her thong and turned on the vibrator I’d bought her, watching herself in her new sexy outfit stimulating herself, while I looked on stroking my cock; then she tried out her dildo, fucking herself with it for a moment, then letting me fuck her hard with it, driving her to another orgasm. I’d never watched her masturbate, so the sight got me hard as a rock. I had to have her. She put a pillow under her ass and I pushed my way into her, giving her a good hard fucking, and this time it wasn’t long until I finally had my orgasm, long and deep in her pussy. Oh, it was good…

I got off her, and we cuddled for a few minutes before we had to go back to the real world. She looked different afterwards; more beautiful than ever.

Fortunately, there’s phone sex.

Normally it’ll be late at night, and she’ll ask me to call her, to help us both sleep. About once a week, though, she’ll call me at work, from her bedroom; she has a day off during the week from her job in retail, and she’ll be alone in the house, allowing her to moan like a whore to her heart’s content. Fortunately my office has a door, and is soundproof; there’s no better way to spend a break from work than to cheer your love on to an exquisite orgasm, then going into the bathroom to release all the tension of the day.

Though to be sure, when she’s working late, it’s enormous fun to come home, strip off, have a nice long wank, and call her voicemail just when I’m about to come, so she can hear it, and hear the filthy things I’d like to do to her…make her kneel before me and suck my cock until I exploded in her mouth, or on her breasts, or her ass, or her face…

The other day she called me at work. She’d gone out earlier–some business she needed to take care of at her junior college–and amused herself watching some high school girls play soccer. I amused her by wondering aloud what she’d do if one of those girls wandered by her house and saw her masturbating through the window.

Invite her in and have the young girl be her plaything, of course. I started wondering aloud if it wouldn’t be nice to have my Young Mistress be my servant girl, and all the naughty things I could have her do: suck my cock whenever I wanted her to; model all manner of sexy costumes for my amusement; get strangers male and female to play with her while I jacked off to the sight of them driving her mad…

It didn’t take her long to come. Everyone loves to be the submissive, don’t they?

—

I didn’t finish myself, at least not then. I had work to do.

She IMed me goodnight later; we talk by IM every night. I wished her goodnight herself teasing her that I’d probably think of her and her young soccer player before I went to sleep. Would I have? I don’t know. I was pretty tired. I might have just fallen asleep.

She texted me: Call me.

Now it was her turn for her deep, sexy voice to turn me on, order me to strip naked in bed, and tell me how she would lick my cock from top to bottom and suck my head…if I was a good boy for my mistress. Not much turns me on more than to hear her sexy voice call me a good boy. Did I want to play a game? Perhaps I’d like to kneel beside her bed, lick her pussy like a good boy…(and in real life I did kneel by the bed, jerking my swollen cock). Or lie on her bed while she sat on my hard cock, play with her breasts and her ass, finger-fuck her ass, offer her my fingers to suck, doing my mistress’ bidding until I heard her come, those short sharp gasps I love to hear…

“You can go ahead and come for me,” she told me, when she was done.

“Okay…”

“Wait! There’s one thing you need to know before you do.”

“Yes, mistress?”

“…You’re mine.”

And I was. Me, my cock, all my come, it was all for her. I came.

She asked me to come to her city to go to an independent movie; I jumped at the chance to see her, as I always do, slipping out of work a little early to make it to her city in time to meet her in a park near the cinema. She looked oh so inviting in a purple skirt and a black top she’d bought when she was fifteen, and that flattered her so well now it was all I could do not to bury myself in her chest. As it was, we sat on a park bench, I gave her a gift I’d brought her from abroad–a rabbit made of crystal–and she whispered in my ear:

“I’m not wearing any panties.”

We exchanged a hot kiss, and went on to the cinema.

Once there, I tried to sit at her left, so I could reach up her skirt with my hand–but no. I was to sit at her right, so she could reach into my pants and jerk me off. She just keeps getting better at playing with my cock. I tried to watch the movie, but all I really wanted to look at was her, jerking my cock and giving me the sluttiest smirk I’ve ever seen on her, knowing what she was doing to me and the power she had over me.

I wanted to return the favor, but the most I was able to do in the cinema was kiss her shoulder and her neck, and after the movie she had to go straight home (she had to be up early for work the next day). I wound up riding the bus with her to the stop closest to her house, and then just barely making it back by subway to the bus back to my city.

She apologized a bit later; she hadn’t meant to tease me like that, but she does love playing with my cock, or, as she put it, reminding “him” who he really belongs to. But there was nothing to apologize for.

I’m to see her tomorrow. I wonder how she plans to drive me crazy then…?

She’s to graduate from her college in a few weeks, though. She told me exactly what she wanted for a gift…

A fantasy she often enjoys is to go to a swingers club–perhaps Les Chandelles in Paris–and be soundly fucked in every orifice by some hot men (and played with by hot women). I can’t take her that far, but there is a swingers club in her city where we do plan to go.

Among its fantasy rooms is the mirror room. She enjoys looking at herself during sex. The first time she rode me she looked back at herself in the hotel room mirror, smiled, and said, “I look good.” (Which she always does!) The last time we did share a room, she sucked me off in front of the long hall mirror, the both of us getting off at the sight of her kneeling before me sucking my cock. At the very least she wants to be fucked in the mirror room, able to see herself fucking and being fucked from every angle.

I’ll let you know how it goes–and what else, if anything, transpires there. I do enjoy her fantasy of watching her have fun with someone else, male or female, in the mirror room…

—

I’m such a submissive. In truth, one of the hottest moments we’ve shared (for me anyway) was in a store, which sold (among other things) armchairs. We’d been walking around quite a bit, so she sat in the chair, and having nowhere else to sit I sat at her feet beside her, people milling all about us (adding to the thrill), and she looked down at me and petted me like a dog, smiling, and calling me a good boy.

Last time we were together I gave her a bath. We’d been in the bath together before just soaking and making out, but I had never actually given her the bath I’d fantasized about, like I did that day: soaping and rising her body; shampooing and rinsing her hair, and then drying it when she came out, as she read a book. I did more than that, of course: while I was washing her ass caressed and slipped a finger into her asshole, and she had me put the light out and rub her pussy until she came.

Thing is, I hadn’t actually bathed a woman before, so it took me a while to properly rinse and dry my mistress’ hair. Fantasy can run into a roadblock or two in reality…

The mistress decided to return the favour by fulfilling my fantasy of fucking me in the ass.

I had bought her a strap-on, and I amused her for a few minutes by sucking her “cock” while she lay on the bed, stroking my hair…and then I bent over to take her in the ass. Except… The mistress had as much trouble with her aim as I often do when I’m trying to fuck her (she’s had to lean to guide me in–I’ve never been able to do it on my own!), and nearly as much trouble staying in if she went too fast. We wound up lying on the bed laughing at ourselves over it. A learning experience, anyway

In the end she took the dildo out of the harness and fucked me with it, looking me in the eye (which never fails!) and encouraging me as I stroked my cock and finally came on my belly, and we held each other tight.

“Who’s a good boy?” she said.

“Am I a good boy?”

“Yes you are. Do you want to come home with me? We can play every day.”

“Yes please.”