Political Campaigner found Sexually Compromised
He was a bad boy. He came too fast and didn’t give me what I needed. A lousy, selfish lover like so many men I have known. He groped too much, always after my titties and sliding his hand between my legs…never leaving me alone till got what he wanted and then it was all over.
When I was a girl it confused me and hurt me, that kind of boy stuff. “You don’t really love me!!!” was the inner cry. I was right of course, but now that I was a satisfied women in the love department, his selfish behavior just made me want to discipline him.
It wasn’t anger I was feeling, it wasn’t love, it was just that he needed to learn a lesson, and I wanted to tease the fuck out of him, and leave him hanging like he had done to me. I suppose most sexually aggressive women would right him off as a dud lay and find a more generous lover, but I already had three of them and a good lay was not necessarily what I was after.
I wanted him for different reasons. He was virginal when it came to real love. I’m sure he couldn’t even spell the word. Too much porn, too much testosterone, too little aesthetics. His heart was a barren wasteland, and a good man shouldn’t have to spend his days like that.
He was very generous in other ways. If I was his wife I’m sure I would nag him for being such a soft cock to the party, never saying no, staying away to finish the campaign , being the guy everyone calls on when they needed a favor and a job done. He went to great lengths to satisfy them, but sold himself short when it came to satisfying himself.
No, that was not a typo. In the end, he was robbing himself of pleasure in his ignorance of lovemaking. His orgasm was just a blip in his groin. A hollow experience, something that still made him feel guilty somewhere deep inside, like a teenager wanking when he hears his mother groaning with pleasure in the bedroom next door. Somehow I had to snap him out of it and teach him how to be a good lover, not for my benefit, but for that good girl somewhere, yet to come to be his woman.
This was only our third meeting. The first was to see if he was worth the effort. I already knew he wasn’t my “type”. He loved football and drinks with the boys, he had three feet and no rhythm and there was not an artistic bone in his body. But what I did see was a good guy bound by lust with a desert soul. I wanted to bring him fresh showers and see his wildflowers blooming, for no other reason other than I thought I could.
He was a political campaigner and part of the very conservative right. He ran one of the liberal party branches in one of the most blue ribbon of seats. Personally, politics bores me, but someone has to do it, and it may as well be a good guy. When I talked to him I could see that he was tired of it in many ways, but there was a greatness, an ability, a passion that continued to keep him in the party despite the disappointments. I liked that quality. I wanted him to have what destiny was offering him.
Our second meeting came with some boundaries. I was very clear about it. No kissing or touching my lips, tits or pussy. Everything else is yours. I like to see if a man has self control and integrity, its important to me. It also ensures I can keep my head about me when I still need it. We were driving and it wasn’t long before he had his hand pressed deep into the crease of my thigh, his little finger moving as if to “accidentally” brush my pussy, he was going for my tits, those always hard nipples of mine. “I think that is touching tits and pussy…” I said. He so failed the test, again and again. Eventually, after a few hours, I let him suck my titties, he was pining for it so much. I shouldn’t have compromised, but I hadn’t cum in almost two days and thought it would be nice to let myself get a bit hot. But I know my limits and it wasn’t long before I wanted his fingers inside of me and then his lips on my clit. I was only settling in, now wanting to please him, stoke the fire. I kissed his ears, then his mouth, his neck. “Lets play a game,” I said. ” I’ll be your love slave for 15 minutes. I’ll do exactly what you ask of me, but you must describe it in detail and ensure I obey.” He wanted me to suck his cock-so many other possibilities, but that’s blokes for you. He dribbled his load after a few minutes and then it was all over. Now no passion, no interest, just shutdown.
The drive home was spent with him taking calls from his mother and some other woman he was “helping out”. As for me, I was exploring why I let myself down so easily and didn’t follow through with my resolves. I hate chocolate cake, I hate cigarettes, I hate a lusty man, so why do I indulge so easily? I considered what my next move would be. I certainly was not interested in repeating this exercise. I love to suck cock, but I prefer my husbands any day. I certainly have no time to give to a dud lay. The only way I would be even remotely interested in seeing him again was if he made it worth my while, and gave me what I was not getting. A very expensive dinner, a trip away, or cold hard cash.
I felt squeamish when he text’d me the next day to organise another get together so I laid it on the line. What were my exact words…”Pretty busy till next week. What did you have in mind? If u are after a few hours of pleasure it will cost $200.” Funny how I managed to find time to see him a few days later when renumeration was brought into the mix. Is that prostitution or just a mutually beneficial arrangement? It also empowered him to have what he wanted. I asked him what he would like to do when we got together. He basically said “What we did yesterday.” Not one for a failing creativity, I said, “Sure, that’s just a beginning. I want you to tell me your fantasies and let me make them your reality.” His big fantasy was menage a trois with two women. “I can organize that for you.”
Either way it was working for both of us. He was getting sex with a good woman who would expand his horizons and bring out the best in him, I was getting a way to devote myself entirely to what I was best at, love and sensual pleasure and giving that intense female essence that so transforms a man and makes him the best he can be.
The menage a trois would have to be for another time, but today I had something in mind he needed.
I would have loved to tightly lace up leathers into a perfect hour glass with titties bulging and put on those slutty high boots I had ordered, but that would be for another day. When he came I was hot for him. I wanted to play. I wanted to control his pleasure and draw out of him what his imagination lacked. Things he had not even considered but would learn to love. I was rough with him and pressed his cock onto my pussy and told him how much I was looking forward to this. He went to kiss me but I just pushed him down onto the chair. He needs to learn self control and to wait before he has my lips. To wait until my tongue and lips burn to please him, until he absolutely needs it, rather than wants it. He went for my titties like a hurt boy as if to say, “Well can I at least play with them?”. I slapped his hand away. “No, you were such a bad boy last time I’m going to teach you a lesson. Take off your top. And the rest.” I picked up the long jute rope that had cut tightly into my pussy on a few occasions before. I bound him the way I wanted him. Where I could get to him as required, where I could taunt and tease and control him.
“You know you didn’t please me the other day. You didn’t suck my pussy long enough or use your fingers hard enough. You were a bad boy, only after your own pleasure. I’m going to show you how to make me cum, and I’m going to get you so hot and make you wait for it so long that when I let you blow you won’t know what’s hit you. I’m going to suck on your cock, I’m going to play with your balls, I might even stick something long and hard up your ass, but I’m not going to let you cum until I am good and ready and satisfied.”
I put on some salsa and began to circle my hips and undress, closing my eyes, letting the music and dance erotically charge me. I could feel my pussy emanating waves of pleasure to him, soft, like a warm evening breeze fragrant with Jasmine, intense and alluring. Using my stomach, hips, pelvis to draw and build the fire in me, I began to feel that animal passion, that cock hunger that seems insatiable. I pinched down hard on my nipples sending electric shocks to intensify the fire. Oh, I was wanting a cock in me, needing a cock in me, but not yet. It has to become unbearable, it has to become ravenous. I slipped off my panties, but kept my titties pert and just peeking out over my lacy bra. I wet my fingers and slowly, ever so softly, circled my smooth pussy, drawing my hands down over my thighs and back over my buttocks, up, up and away, spreading the sexual energy building in my cunt right through my body, emptying and drawing so it can be filled again and again, spread again and again till I lose my mind completely, so consumed am I with pleasure.
I start to groan now. I can’t help it. I’m sure he’d love to suck on my pussy but he’s not going to yet. I want him to dribble, to salivate, to pine and hunger. I want him to want my pussy so bad that when he does taste it, it will be like honey to a bear and eaten deeply, sucking it down, filling up his body with my feminine essence, feeling it charge him, enter him, enliven him. I pull out my big cock toy, my favorite pleasure stick I use when my lovers are away and I can’t get enough. I let out a deep sigh as it slowly, slowly, slowly enters me and I savor that first initial electric pleasure. Each deep slow thrust illicits a new shock of sexual fire flashing, swirling around my breasts, into my ears, dulling my brain to all else. I revel in this place, dwell in it, let it do me good, filling each and every cell of my being with healthy life giving fire.
My mouth is open, I drink deeply, I’m filling up, every pore, stronger now, faster, harder, more, more, more, more, more. I start to swear, “Fucking Hell, fucking hell, oh fucking hell,” I can’t help it, it feels so good, I have to take every last drop, every last inch of me filled to capacity. I am really pushing hard and fast now, sucking it in, filling it up. I have to vocalize, I have to let it out, all restraint is long gone and then….then….it pounds, roars like Niagra Falls, strong, hard, again and again.
After composing myself I said to him, “Now that’s how its done. Did you like watching that? His cock was hard and hungry, “I guess you did.” I walked slowly behind him, sizing him up, deciding how to drive him crazy. I let my hands move slowly over his chest and pinched his nipples as I bit his earlobes and neck. My hands moved down to circle his abdomen then across the side of his arching hips, along tense thighs then up to the crease of his loin…and stopped. He wanted me to roll his balls up into base of his shaft, he wanted me to suck his cock, he wanted to see me, and touch me and taste me.
I let him watch as I ripped the crotch off his undies, and slipped them over his eyes as an impromptu blindfold. I put my clothes on, just like he had done after he last had his fill of pleasure, and I left him, straining and urgent and unfulfilled. He heard the click of the motel door and with a flood of inspiration, I turned over the sign to indicate that the room was ready to be made up. In my mind I wickedly imagined a parlor maid entering to clean up the room. Herself, very horny due to her own lovers selfishness, when she spied that available cock, blindfolded to ensure her anonymity, she decided to make the most of it. We’d actually only been there an hour or so, and the room attendants had left for the day after making up all the rooms earlier, so this scenario was not going to happen, but I noticed a room trolley down the end of the corridor. He was blindfolded after all…I could be the parlor maid.
I didn’t want to leave him hanging too long, but I bet he was aching to touch himself. I wonder what was going through his mind. I wonder if he was making the most of the game…
“Room service.” I knocked loudly and entered, squeaking the trolley and banging around making lots of noise. I made my voice a little squeakier, more like a teenager. “Oh my God…what the…”
“I’m sorry”, he bumbled…”Um, we were…can you untie me please?” I walked over towards him silently. “Well, I don’t know…are you suppose to be untied?” With embarrassment he was soft now, but the hesitation of the maid to oblige and put an end to his fantasy stirred something and I noticed an ever so slight filling. How did he imagine her? Could he begin to think a strange woman would find him so alluring that she would throw all caution to the wind and desire him, now. I hope he could, but he probably was just feeling a little confused. He wasn’t use to women throwing themselves at him after all. But no matter. That was fast going to be his reality.
I slipped off my panties and skirt, straddled his thigh and let the moisture slip delicious softness over my sex. I opened my top and scooped my breasts to plunge over the lace of my bra, and without a word offered my nipple to his lips. He sucked deeply. He was still nervous, and not quite hard, so I reached over and fondled his balls, his inner thigh and brushed ever so slightly against his anus. I let him know I was enjoying this and reached down to build my pleasure, circling fast. I figured a maid in this situation would not be keen on a lengthy session, so hit and run was the order of the day. It didn’t take long for me to come. It wasn’t an all encompassing affair like the last one, but I let out a little sigh to let him know I’d arrived.
His cock was nice and hard now. I longed to pleasure him, but not now. I got dressed hurriedly, faining embarrassment and quickly left the room, dragging the trolley behind me.
I wonder if he knew it was me? Did he know my scent and body well enough yet? I hope not. I hope it was all so mind blowingly real. What was it doing to his ego? Was he one step closer to becoming a love God? How much of the years of sexual rejection had just been erased? I pondered my next move. If he was a lover I would ache for his cock, but that was out of bounds…maybe jealousy…
I entered the room only seconds after I had left as the maid. “What was that woman doing here? She looked flushed and hurried, did you frighten her?” Silence. I noticed he was still hard. “What are these panties? What have you been doing?” I touched his thigh, still moist and fragrant. “I see she didn’t please you though.” I ran a finger slowly up his pulsating shaft. “Would you like me to? I could suck your cock…but first you have to tell me about the lady. What did she do to you?”
“Um, nothing much really. She wasn’t here long.”
“What did she do?” I insisted.
“Oh, she wanted me to suck on her tits.”
“And did you?”
“Yeah.”
“Were they nice tits?”
“Yeah.”
“And did you come here to suck on some other girls tits, or mine?”
“Ah…” I could see the wheels spinning.
“If I wanted you to suck on someone elses tits I would have brought her here to you. Now I am having second thoughts about organizing your little menage a trois. What else did she do?” I got up and walked away, just to make my disgust a little more convincing and picked up my violet suede lash.
“I think she came…uh…she played with my balls a little too.”
“Did she moan like I do, or did she just give you a shy little squeak?” “Ah…” “No matter… So, why don’t you tell me what you would have liked your little maid to do before she ran out the door.” I had my suede lash softly circling around his balls and thighs, now just rhythmically slapping them ever so gently, the ends bending round to flash his anus like little flickering tongues. “She sat on you…right here, didn’t she.” I swung the suede alternately between inner and outer thigh from groin to knee and back again, not hard, but firm. “Right here?…” I laid one hard sting in the middle of his thigh where only minutes before I had writhed and left it awakened. “Is that where she sat?” I demanded. I continued to sway the lash softly down either side of his thigh, letting the sensation enfold all the exposed flesh, and letting the sting dissipate.
I went back to gently slapping his balls. “She touched your balls? …She got your cock nice and hard, so you must have found her exciting? Do you wish she sucked on your cock or did she? I was going to suck on your cock, I was going to make you really cum hard, but I’m annoyed because I bet you will be thinking about her. Maybe I should go and find her” I began to plunge his cock deep inside my mouth. Dropping the lash, I fondled his balls and inner thigh. “Do you think I should go and find her?” It doesn’t take long for him to cum and it was building fast. I stopped suddenly, got up and walked to the door. “I’ll tell her, she can make $100 bucks if she gives you a blow job, what do you reckon?” Without waiting for an answer, I left the room.
After 5 minutes I return, pop my head in the door and say, “I got her, I’ll leave you two alone.” Now I’m the maid. I’m 18, shy but very interested in cock. First I just stand at the door, awkwardly, looking at his straining hard on, feeling it pulsing through his legs and abdomen. “I…ah…” faining that gawky, uncomfortable barrier between fantasty and reality. In truth I just didn’t want to give my voice away. I slowly came forward to kneel in front of him. I have to remember to not touch as I would touch. It has to be young, a little clumbsy, maybe some accidental brushing of teeth against the shaft. I have to make my lips thin and hard and keep my tongue out of it all together. Don’t play with his balls, maybe hold on tight to his thigh…I coach myself in adolescent sexuality. I can feel him getting really excited despite my best attempts at a bad blow job. Amazing how the mind can comphensate for anything. The imagination is certainly a powerful thing…he is heaving and straining and his face is all crunched up and when that moment arrives he even gives a bit of a grunt…so much of an improvement on the last blimp.
I don’t swallow. I admit, cum makes me vomit and I have no desire to overcome my distaste. I think it all stemmed from my first boyfriend that had recurrent candida infections… fortunately I timed things right and I now had a cheek full. I got up, went to the bathroom and cleaned myself up then left the room and reentered as myself.
“Jack, where’s your wallet. The girl wants her pay.” I rifle through his pants pocket, grab his wallet and take $100 out of the generous wad I find there, open the door and say, “Thanks.”
“Did you like that Jack. Did she suck your cock as good as I do? You came fast, you must have liked it. She was pretty you know. 18 I suppose, cute firm ass. ..How does that make you feel, knowing that a hot young thing is getting off and sucking your cock?” I’m fondling his balls now. I want to get him hard again. I bet you’d like it if she came back and you watched us together. I know you’d like that, you’ve told me”. I start to suck hard on his cock bringing it back to life, pausing every so often, switching to a hand job, leaving my lips free to taunt him further. “I’d suck on those nice titties and you’d watch her squirm as I tease her but don’t touch her just where she wants it, till she wants it so bad…. I’d put my fingers inside her and make her moan.” I could feel his cock bulging and swelling and responding ever so nicely. “You could come and sit close, where you’d have a real good view of her pussy and I could suck on your cock just like I’m doing now…. I could time it so you came together, so you cum hard like you’re suppose to, so you feel really good after. Would you like that?” He wasn’t responding, but had his eyes back in his head somewhere nice. I knew he was close. I just had to tip it. “I might just play with myself as well. Two hands and a mouth, I can manage that. How would that be? All of us moaning together, getting lost together, rising together”…I felt the slippery warmth under my hand and a deep guttoral response…”pounding together…” easing off now to cradle his balls and draw long strokes over his body…”resting together…enjoying peace together…mmm”
I like this time nearly more than the passion. There is openness and trust like at no other time, especially with men. I think women open during sex if they are treated right, men open after, unless they already trust you, but with Jack, he was just learning to be honest and visible. After about 30 minutes of just “being”and not saying anything, he dressed slowly, tripping a couple of times as he attempted to put feet into holes.
“See you next week.” I gave him a little peck on the cheek. I keep my deep kisses for the few I have surrendered to. He handed me $200. We’d made good progress today. I was tempted to give him back the $100 I’d earned as the mystery maid, but why spoil the reality he now had. Besides, I deserved it.
