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Mistress Nicki and Jen

Nicki becomes Jen's Mistress
Half an hour later, we were sitting together on the sofa with a glass of wine.

“That was… amazing. I have never been so turned on in my life. And I would never have even gone in there by myself. Let alone do something like… like that.”

I smiled and took a sip.

“I feel as high as a kite.” Jen sat back on her chair and took a large mouthful of wine.

My smile broadened. “You little slut,” I whispered.

There was a pause, then Jen smiled, “Yes, I suppose I am.”

“You’re still not wearing any knickers.”

“I’m truly not sure I ever want to wear them again,” she replied. “I have never felt so alive… so free. And all because I just let myself do as you told me. Which is really weird because we hardly know each other do we?”

“I suppose not.” I smiled.

“But I’m very glad we met.”

I nodded.

“I could imagine us spending a lot of time together.”

I nodded again. “Perhaps you’ll stop living Friday to Friday?”

“Talking of which,” said Jen, “I have no idea how to explain my… my pussy to my husband.”

“Do you think he’ll ask for an explanation?”

“I would have thought so.”

“Well, as I see it, it’s nothing you couldn’t have done for yourself, is it?”

“I suppose not.”

“And maybe he’ll like it.”

“I suppose so.”

“Didn’t you say he likes you to be the dominant one?”

Jen nodded and took a sip of wine.

“Well then,” I said it as if that’s all I needed to say—that those two words were sufficient explanation. There was a pause in the conversation.

“It’s not up to him to question me.”

“That’s right.”

“I’ll do as I please.”

“And did that please you?”

“Yes, it bloody well did.”

“Well then.”

I raised my glass to her and toasted, “To doing what bloody well pleases you.” We both drained our glasses. We sat and chatted for a while before Jen decided she really had to go. She promised to let me know how it went with her husband when he discovered her newly shaved pussy. I couldn’t wait to hear.

As it was, only the next day, Jen called me around lunchtime.

“Hi, Nicki—it’s Jen. From yesterday.”

“Hi Jen—lovely to hear from you so soon. How are things?”

“Good—well, great!”

“What’s up?”

“Well, my husband made up for Friday night.”

“He did?”

“Yes. And found out about,” she whispered, “My state of dress… downstairs.”

“Oh really?”

“Mmm hmm. He certainly did.”

“Well, I’d love it if you told me all about it.”

“Love to.”

We agreed to meet at a quiet little pub in an hour or so. It was another gorgeous day, so I wore a sundress with a bold print and some strappy high-heeled sandals. Leaving just in time to make our rendezvous.

I found Jen in a quiet corner sipping a white wine. I ordered a gin and tonic and went to sit with her.

“Hello you,” I said.

“Hello Nicki,” she replied. “God. I can’t believe what’s happened since I saw you yesterday.”

“Tell me all about it.”

And she did. She told me all about what had happened with her husband when she got home. She told me in animated whispers, as we sat there side my side in that little corner of the pub.

“So when I got home, my heart was pounding already. What with thinking about how we’d spent the day—at your house and then at that sleazy little shop. I made myself busy making us some dinner and we didn’t really talk until we sat down to eat. He asked me where I’d been and what I’d been up to, and I came up with some fib about how I’d spent the afternoon shopping and mooching about town. I asked him what he’d been up to and he claimed he had been pottering about at home; changing light bulbs, this and that.

Then I pretended I was really cross with him about not being around on Friday night, and how frustrated I was with his behaviour. I told him I expected better from him than that. It was wonderful—he fell straight into his subservient role. Somehow that was much more fun when I really wanted to be in control—instead of me just doing it when he asked me to—you know?”

I nodded.

“So, I told him he was going to have to make up for his disappointing behaviour. He agreed and asked me what he could do. Well, I knew what I was going to tell him to do, and the thought of it made my heart pound. I berated him for a little while longer and told him to get down on his knees. Which he did—without so much as a flicker. He looked up at me and I told him not to. I told him to look at the floor. Oh God, Nicki, it was such a thrill.

So there I am at the dinner table, with him kneeling in front of me and I just hitched up my skirt and told him to lick me. Told him to lick and fuck me with his tongue until he made me cum. You should have seen the look on his face when he saw my bare cunt, Nicki. It was priceless. But he didn’t ask any questions, he just nuzzled in between my legs and gently tongued me; he started really gently and got more and more energetic ‘til he was fucking me like his tongue was a little dick. I hitched my skirt up higher and spread my legs wider and he just went for it. Eventually, I was dripping with my own juices and arched my back—almost fell off the back of the chair as I came. It was amazing.

Then I knew what question he wanted to ask—he was desperate to know about my pussy. But he wouldn’t ask. It just hung there above us as an unasked, unanswered question. Eventually, I told him some guff about shaving in the shower that morning, so as to surprise him—and he bought it. I can’t imagine what he’d make of it if he knew the truth.”

“And you were so worried, weren’t you? But when it came to it, it was perfectly fine. You got what you wanted, and so—I imagine—did he.”

“Oh God yes. After he made me cum with his tongue, he fucked me. I don’t think he has ever been so hard, and throbbing. I grabbed his hair and pulled him up away from my pussy, ‘til I felt his cock brush against my lips. Then I guided him in. You should have seen the expression on his face. He was so… hungry. He only lasted a few minutes; but he clawed at my arse and hammered his cock into me like… like… like a teenager. It was unbelievable. I came over and over.”

“It’s making you hot now, just thinking about it, isn’t it?” I smirked. I knew it was true; there was no point her denying it.

Jen blushed as she nodded. I looked her up and down. Today she was wearing a pink sleeveless silk shirt with a flouncy collar and a tight grey pinstripe skirt. Her shoes were shiny black leather ankle boots.

I smiled at her, and leaned forward to whisper conspiratorially, “I think you need to go to the loo—don’t you?”

She nodded.

“And while you’re there, you need to take of your knickers, and leave them off. Bring them back to me.” Jen went bright red, and bit her lip, but she nodded and stood up. Taking a small black handbag with her, she went to the loo. I looked around the bar while she was gone. There were a couple of older punters holding up the bar, and a well-rounded middle-aged woman behind the bar, but that was it-just me and Jen in a secluded corner.

Jen arrived back a couple of minutes later. She slipped in next me, in the corner booth with her back to the bar. She rummaged in her bag and then held out her closed fist to me; I held out my hand and she gave me a slip of black silk material. I slowly closed my hand around it and took her knickers from her, putting them in my own handbag. We grinned at each other like maniacs.

“You are a dirty little slut, aren’t you?” I whispered.

Eye’s sparkling, Jen looked at me and nodded, the tip of her tongue between her teeth. What a tease.

I whispered even more quietly, “But I think you’re a dirty little slut who does as she’s told—aren’t you?”

Jen nodded again.

“Good girl.” I patted her on the thigh, then gave it a little squeeze. My fingertips slipped down her leg to the hem of her skirt, which I then pulled back up her thigh. My hand slipped between her legs—I wanted to check that she really wasn’t wearing any knickers. Soon enough my pinkie brushed against her hairless cunt. She gave a silent gasp as she felt my touch. I dug my nails into her thigh and smiled at her. “Good girl.”

“Is there anything you wouldn’t do for me?”

Jen gulped, then whispered, “Not that I can think of…”

An idea occurred to me. “Have you got a car?”

“Yes—a BMW.”

“Lovely—have you just had the one glass of wine?”

Jen nodded.

“Good,” I paused, thinking. “Why don’t you go pick up your car, and meet me back at my place in half an hour? You can take me for a ride.”

“Sounds good.”

I walked back up to my flat and collected together some bits and pieces in a large handbag. I was looking out the window when a silver BMW pulled up outside. It was a little more luxurious than my little yellow mini--and Jen could drive. A minute later we were driving out of town.

“Where are we going?”

“Just head out of town to the East,” I said, to which Jen nodded.

“So… you gave me an interesting answer when I asked if there was anything you wouldn’t do for me. I think we should explore that a little more.”

Jen nodded.

“I would also appreciate it if you called me ‘Mistress.’

“Yes, Mistress.” She said it without blinking—as if it were the most natural thing in the world. She was old enough to be my mother, I suppose, but that wasn’t the point.

“Good girl. Now then. Let’s talk about what you would and wouldn’t do if I asked you. Remember that bloke in the sex shop?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Would you suck his cock for me?”

“Yes Mistress.”

“Would you let him fuck you?”

“Yes Mistress.”

“In the arse?”

“Oh God.” She gulped. “Yes, Mistress.”

How does the idea make you feel?

“My heart is pounding at the thought. My knees are trembling, but my pussy… My pussy feels so hot, and it’s contracting involuntarily.”

I laid my hand on her thigh and gave it a squeeze.

“Well, you might not have to wait until next Friday…”

She glanced over at me.

“Keep your eyes on the road.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“He was a sleazy little man, wasn’t he?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“But that turns you on in a slutty way, doesn’t it?”

She nodded.

I let the silence hang in the air. “What if…? What if I asked you to let him pee over you?”

Her eyes widened, and, with my hand still on her thigh, I could feel her tensing.

“Oh God. I’d feel such a slut. Yes, Mistress.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, I’d let that sleazy little man piss over me.”

“Would you drink it for me?”

The car swerved a little, bit Jen quickly brought it back under control. I gently stroked her thigh in an attempt to calm her down.

“Well…?”

“Y… y… yes, I would Mistress.”

“Mmmmm… Good.” There was a pause. “So… what else?”

“Would you let me meet your husband?” I saw Jen’s knuckles turn white on the steering wheel.

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Would you have sex with him while I watched?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Would you watch while he had sex with me?”

There was a long pause.

“Jen?”

“Yes, Mistress. Yes, I would—if that’s what you wanted.”

“And how does that idea make you feel?”

“A little more confused, I think. Turned on, certainly. But a bit… close to home, if you know what I mean.”

I nodded. “I do.”

We were out in the countryside now, driving along the coast road. As we came across a layby, I told Jen to pull in. Aside from anything else I wanted to take a look at the view. We stopped and got out, leaning against the side of the car as we took in the views of the sea and the coast road to our left and right.

“It is funny to think we’ve only known each other a couple of days, isn’t it?”

Jen nodded. I looked both ways along the road—there were no cars coming or going.

“Take off your skirt,” I said.

“Pardon?”

“Take off your skirt.”

“But I… Don’t you remember I am not wearing any knickers.”

“I know that very well. And right now there are no cars coming, are there?”

Jen glanced up and down the road. She bit her lower lip and unclipped, then unzipped her skirt and wriggled out of it. Suddenly, she was there, out on the road, naked from the waist down. Still no cars.

“Good girl. Now then, bend over the bonnet.”

She didn’t need telling twice and moved round to the front of the car, and bent over it. For a woman in her forties, she was in very good shape—a lovely pert bum. She hadn’t been leaning over for more than a few seconds when I gave her a spank. Jen flinched and gasped. I could see a car in the far distance, and spanked her again; again, Jen gasped as she felt the flat of my hand. The car was getting closer. “Now, get back in the car.”

She had seen the car so knew to move quickly. I grabbed her skirt off the roof and got in as well. No sooner had my door shut than the car passed by—going so quickly we couldn’t even tell what—if anything the occupants had seen.

“Oh my God. That was exciting. My heart is racing.” She turned to look at me, and I smiled back at her. I put my hand back on her naked thigh and gave it a squeeze.

“Keep driving.”

We carried along the coast road and Jen could see we were approaching a built up area. There was a pedestrian crossing ahead and as we approached, someone pressed the button. Jen slowed down and stopped; I gripped her naked thigh as she sat there, only a few feet from a middle-aged man as he crossed the road to the pub.

“Oh Jesus,” whispered Jen. “I am so fucking HOT.”

I raked my fingernails along her inner thigh as the man got onto the pavement. Another few seconds and the red light went flashing amber and Jen could drive on. I let my pinky graze her bare pussy as I teased her. “Please remember I need to keep the car on the road, Mistress.”

“Don’t worry.”

We drove on through Newhaven. It is funny to think that most of the time, if you’re a pedestrian, you can’t see the lower half of drivers. How many times might you have seen a car go by, not knowing that the driver is in the buff from the waist down? Anyway, we carried on through Newhaven, with me caressing Jen’s thigh as she drove; occasionally brushing my fingertips against her pussy. I knew I was getting a rush from the experience, but I have no idea how much more electrifying it was for Jen. The other side of Newhaven, there’s a stretch of road without houses. The South Downs way crosses the road, and near there is a place to park. I got Jen to park the BMW there. There were quite a few cars parked there, but no one around—it seems everyone was out walking.

I leaned over and kissed her; my tongue probing her mouth. I could feel her moaning as we kissed. My hand was on her leg, and I raked gently at the skin of her inner thigh before I cupped her cunt in my hand. My middle finger nestled between her glistening labia. I pulled away, and whispered, “You horny little slut. What are you?”

“A horny little slut, Mistress.”

I slapped her thigh, “What are you?”

“A horny little slut… Your horny little slut, Mistress.”

“Good girl.”

Just then a little red mini (just like mine) pulled up in front of us. A lanky teenage boy climbed out—he turned around and started towards us. Jen had no time to cover up and this lad was so close to the car, he could not avoid seeing her state of undress. He almost tripped over his own feet as he walked past. Then he turned around, as if he had forgotten something in is car. Went back to the car, pretended to scrabble around in it for a moment, before walking back. “Open your window.”

Jen did as she was told and opened her window. This time, the lad walked more slowly as he came by. When he was parallel with the window, I called out “Excuse me.”

He looked down, across Jen to speak to me, but couldn’t keep his eyes off her nakedness. When he finally met my eyes, I said “Hi.”

“Hello,” he replied, blushing red.

“I don’t know if you can help out,” I went on, “But my friend here is feeling rather horny.”

All he could manage was a guttural grunt—not surprising really.

“Would you like a blow job?”

This time, I was pretty sure the guttural grunt was in the affirmative.

“Hop in the back then.” As the lad opened the door, I turned to Jen, “Get in the back, girl. I think you know what to do.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

Jen jumped into the back of the car as quickly as she could—getting out of her door and into the back hoping no one else would see her naked arse as she went.

I turned to the lad, “What’s your name?”

“Um John.”

“Well, Um John. This is your lucky day. This little slut is going to give you a blow job. All right?”

“Yea.”

Jen reached over and started to caress John’s thigh; slowly she worked up, until she was stroking the rather obvious bulge in his jeans. She undid his belt, popped the button, then slipped her hand inside. John closed his eyes and leant back as Jen pulled out his semi-hard cock. She gave it a few strokes before leaning over and kissing it. Kissing turned to licking—tracing the outline of his helmet as she stroked his shaft. With each kiss she opened her mouth further until she had enveloped the head. She was moaning as she sucked at his cock, her lips sliding down the shaft, until she had half of his seven-inch cock in her mouth.

“That’s it, you fucking slut. Suck his cock.” I was turned around in my seat watching her as she fellated him. One hand rubbing the shaft, the other cupping his balls.

“Oh God.” Whispered John as Jen’s lips slipped down his shaft, taking more and more of his cock into her warm wet mouth. Then she started bobbing up and down; her lips in unison with her hand, like she was fucking him with her mouth. “Oh fuck.” He groaned. “Oh FUCK.” He held Jen’s head in his hands and started to thrust upward into her mouth with his dick. I could see her squeezing his balls as he started to fuck her mouth in earnest. His hips were bucking—probably involuntarily—as she fucked him hungrily.

“You’re going to have a mouth full of cum in a minute, my little slut,” I whispered.

Jen moaned in response. She knew it. She bobbed up and down on John’s cock for barely more than a minute longer, then suddenly, he convulsed--his back arched, and he groaned loudly. Jen moaned and just a dribble of cum appeared at the corner of her mouth. She slipped her lips from his cock and sat back, smiling. John’s cock, still throbbing, flopped back against his stomach.

“Holy shit,” he whispered.

“Well aren’t you a lucky boy?” I asked. “To find yourself a slut like her.”

He was back to the incoherent groans of the teenager. Jen meanwhile had swallowed her mouthful and was looking like a cat with a canary. She was still sitting there naked form the waist down.

“But it’s time to go now John. Out you get.”

He did up his jeans and did as he was told. I told Jen to get back in the driver’s seat, which she did, and set off for home; I turned back—John looked a little shell-shocked, standing by his car, but I am sure he was perfectly happy.

“How are you feeling now, my little slut?”

“Oh Jesus, I don’t think I have ever been so turned on. And I didn’t even get fucked. All I did was give him head.”

I laughed as we headed back to town.

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