Walking down Madison Avenue, the grand buildings towered over Andrew, drawing his eyes to their gargoyles and flourishes. They were so unlike the simple rectangular brick dwellings in his neighborhood. The Upper East Side had old-world charm. Dark green or crimson awnings, brass fitted doors, elaborate stone flourishes around the windows and even gargoyles. When he got to his date’s building, he saw it was the most elegant one on the block.
The lobby of the Alexandria was a high-ceilinged, dark wood walled wonder, with a huge compass inlaid in red and gold over the green-veined black marble floor. The doorman was tall and broad-shouldered with a crisp red uniform that made him look like something like a Beefeater guarding Buckingham Palace.
“May I help you?” The doorman asked Andrew with a slight air of contempt.
“Um, yes, Mr. Andrew Haywood to see-” he started, but the doorman nodded and held up a hand. “Yes, for Ms. Crawford. She’s expecting you. Elevator to the left. Sixth floor. Apartment 6B.” Then he gave Andrew a very tight-lipped and very fake smile
In the beautiful elevator, lined with brass handrails and tasteful moldings, Andrew considered he might have been doing something wrong with his life. He’d gone to a good college, as he was told to. He’d gotten what he thought was a good job, yet looking at Kitty’s building, he wondered how a secretary could have so much more luxurious a lifestyle than an up-and-coming art director.
Getting to her door, he looked at his somewhat wilted roses and frowned. He considered his options, but Kitty opened the door before he could get too far.
As usual, she was a portrait of decadent contrast. Pale powder-soft skin against a black satin dress, the skirt of which flared out over-generous petticoats. White stockings and black Mary Janes completed the outfit, matching her lustrous black curls.
Around her neck, resting just above the temptation of her cleavage, a sapphire necklace on a delicate silver chain. Rich parents? Some kind of inheritance?
“So lovely to see you, Andrew. Please, come inside,” she said in her poised and lilting voice.
The large apartment had sky-blue wallpaper and white chair rail molding. The front door led into a little foyer and then to a sunken living room with a fireplace and a piano. It was the second time Andrew had been to the apartment, and he was even more awed than the first time.
“I was just making myself a cocktail. Would you care for one?” She asked sweetly, leading him to the couch and then going over to a small brass and glass bar cart. “S-sure,” he said, awkwardly sitting.
“Oh! Are those roses for me?” She said with a little squeal. She took them from him and got a vase from above the fireplace.
“Sorry, they’re a little wilted,” he said with a crooked smile. She sat down next to him and touched his cheek. “They just need some water and some love,” she said and kissed him lightly.
He was hypnotized by the softness of her lips and the heady smell of her floral perfume.
“Drinks!” She remembered and went back to the bar. She mixed Martinis with skill. She winked at him as she shook them vigorously, making her body jiggle a bit.
She brought him his drink, and they clinked the pretty glasses together. “What should we drink to?” He asked, and she looked up thoughtfully.
“How about we drink to our first date at home? I don’t think I’m in the mood for a movie. Are you?” She asked, meeting his eyes and giving him a far more sultry smile.
Andrew swallowed and nodded. “That-um-that sounds good to me!”
He was so turned around. He was so used to being the aggressor, the one seducing a girl into staying at his place. Kitty, in every way, turned his ideas on what dating is like on its tail.
They both sighed contentedly after a sip, and Kitty sat back on the couch. Andrew, though, wasn’t quite ready to get comfortable.
“Kitty, this might be rude, I know,” he started, and her eyes widened with curiosity.
“But, this apartment… the jewelry… everything… are you, like, an heiress or something? You said you were a secretary. How do you afford all of this?”
Her smile didn’t disappear, but it flattened a bit. She looked serious, but not upset. Her eyes seemed to gauge his judgment.
“Well, Andrew, I suppose we need to have this talk at some point. I guess now is as good of a time as any.” She took a deep breath and sighed.
“I’m what you might call a kept girl. I have a gentleman friend. A much older gentleman friend, and he is… well… he’s one of the richest men in the city, actually. And this is New York! We met a few years ago, when I had just moved here, and well, he took a liking to me. We started a sort of fling. He’s married, of course, so that’s all it could be, a fling. Eventually, he wanted to make sure I was taken care of, so he got me this apartment, and he started giving me a bit of an allowance. He doesn’t really have any rules for me other than I need to be very careful and discrete. I suppose I should have brought this up earlier, but I never know how people are going to react.” She folded her hands in her lap and looked expectantly at Andrew
He swallowed, scratching his head and processing what she’d said. “I guess that’s why you can never make plans on Friday night.”
She nodded. “That’s right. I see Laurance most Fridays when he is in town. Sometimes I travel with him as well.”
Andrew seemed to be thinking of how to word his next question. “You said you met him a few years ago? How old were you?”
She raised an eyebrow at the question. “I just turned twenty. I was going to secretarial school. I believe Laurence had just turned fifty.”
Andrew’s eyes widened. “I see. I mean, I’ve heard of such… arraignments, of course. In books. It’s like Breakfast at Tiffany’s!” He said with a slight laugh.
“Not really,” she sighed.
“Oh.” He seemed to want to say more but instead looked around. “Well, that sounds… somewhat complicated. I mean, is it something you are trying to get out of? Do you feel… trapped?”
She sighed deeply but maintained her usual angelic grace. “Oh, Andrew. You seemed to be a bright and modern sort of man. I didn’t take you for another pedestrian rube. A woman in this day and age has very few choices if she doesn’t want to marry some rich man and pop out babies. I enjoy my freedom and my independence. Laurance is a globe-trotting entrepreneur with wealth that you and I will never see in a hundred lifetimes. We enjoy each other’s company a few days a month, and he makes it so I don’t have to worry about money, at least for now. I don’t feel trapped. If anything, I feel like Laurance has pulled a trap off of me.”
Andrew opened and closed his mouth once more. Kitty’s smile finally completely vanished.
“And yes, Andrew. We fuck. That’s part of it and always has been, even before the apartment and the money. We have separate lives in many ways, but in our own very specific way, we love each other very much and care for each other. Still, I have a lot more room in my heart, in my life, even in my bed.”
Andrew held his Martini halfway between the table and his mouth and seemed struck mute by her frankness.
“I’m not- I mean- of course, I know these sorts of arraignments take place. I’m sorry if I offended you. It’s just new to me. I’m not… a rube,” he stumbled for the words. He sipped his drink and winced at its strength.
“I don’t really like Martinis,” he said with a chuckle.
She reached over and took the drink from his hand. She poured it into her own glass. “Why don’t you tell me what you do like.”
He looked her in the eye. “I like bourbon. I like this apartment. I like you very much.”
“Good,” she said simply and smiled as she went to make him an Old Fashioned.
In many ways, Andrew and Kitty were reintroduced that evening. As he drank his cocktail and she drank hers, Andrew’s slight stutter went away, and he sat back on her couch a little more comfortably.
“I didn’t date much back home. I don’t know. I guess I was a bit too bookish for the people in my high school. Then I went to college, and suddenly, women seemed to notice me. I got this sort of… well… reputation,” he said with a little chuckle.
“A reputation? Were you a womanizer?” Kitty said with a laugh, refilling their drinks.
“No, not like that. I guess I got this reputation of being ‘safe’ or something. Girls would come knocking at my door when their jock boyfriends broke up with them for a little attention. Sometimes, girls came to me because they were virgins and they didn’t want to be anymore. It was a wild time.”
She narrowed her eyes on him. “So you were the boy who knew how to keep his mouth shut and wasn’t pushy? I think I knew a few boys like that. Maybe a few girls, too.”
He laughed at that. “Yeah. I guess it was because I did something a lot of guys didn’t do. Like… you know… go down on girls. Some guys get all bent out of shape about it, but honestly, I think it’s the best thing in the world!”
Kitty stirred her drink and nodded thoughtfully.
“Well, Andrew, I’ve told you a lot tonight,” she said, kissing his temple softly. “It a vulnerable thing to do. I’m still shaking a little. I had prepared myself for shame. It’s something I fight with a lot, and not just about Laurance. My parents fucked me up plenty good. I’ve learned to be strong, and I’ve built a life I’ve always wanted, but they are still there in the back of my head.”
Andrew looked at her with such kindness in that moment. Then he closed his eyes.
They fuck you up, your mum and dad.
They may not mean to, but they do. They fill you with the faults they had
And add some extra, just for you.But they were fucked up in their turn
By fools in old-style hats and coats, Who half the time were soppy-stern
And half at one another’s throats.Man hands on misery to man.
It deepens like a coastal shelf.Get out as early as you can,
And don’t have any kids yourself.“Philip-” he started, but she let out a little snort that stopped him. “I know who wrote that poem, Andrew.” Then she lounged back, sipping her drink and smiling at him.
“I want more vulnerability. I want secrets. You have to tell me three secrets,” she said with a smile and a little laugh. He looked at her, and her smile was contagious.
“If you tell me three secrets, I’ll show you some of my secret places,” she said, letting her finger trail down her neck and down past her necklace. Her fingertip traced the low collar of her dress.
He smiled at her boldness. She smiled back, but when she looked into his eyes, it wasn’t just a playful lust in his gaze. There was a thoughtfulness that struck her.
“Okay. One. One is, I was a compulsive liar when I was a child. That’s not hyperbole. I was diagnosed and everything. I was also a little spy. I went around my little town and knew every shortcut and hiding spot there was. I used to go out on these long hikes and sneak into the pub or the library or even City Hall. I’d hide somewhere and just listen in on people. I never really got caught. I just liked secrets. I like to know things.”
She nodded at this, narrowing her eyes on him. “What did you lie about?”
He chuckled. “Anything. Everything. Usually, not important things. Usually, I would just make things up. Like, if my mother asked me how my day was, I’d tell her I saw a car accident and give her all these details about what had happened. Only it was all made up. I guess it was just to have something to say. Because nothing ever happened in that little town. Even being a spy was pretty useless. There wasn’t anything interesting to overhear.”
Kitty nodded sagely and then reached down and pulled up her puffy dress a bit. She squirmed and grunted a little and then pulled off her petticoats and stockings and dropped them on the floor. “Alright. Next?”
Andrew’s eyes widened. Kitty stretched a bit, exposing her now nude legs, pulling her dress up just above her knees. Then she raised her eyebrows expectantly.
“Alright, number two. My first time. I was young, but not that young. I was at this family wedding. We had some cousins who lived a few towns over, and we hardly ever saw them. There was this one girl, Anabelle. She… well… she developed very early. She was the same age as me, and she had these huge… tits.” Kitty covered her mouth and giggled at that.
“Well, I was just fascinated by them. It was one of the first weddings where my mother told me I could have a little sip of champagne. One sip led to many. I remember being so tipsy I asked her Anabelle’s brother if he’d ever seen them. Her tits, I mean. Well, he didn’t like that much, and he chased me around the dance floor and threatened to kick my ass. I hid in the back of the catering hall, and after a bit, who came to check on me but Anabelle.”
“Aw, to let you cry on her enormous breasts,” Kitty said, taking a long sip of her Martini.
“Exactly. She said she heard what I asked her brother, and it was a ‘bonehead’ thing to say. Then she said, ‘But if you wanted to see ’em, all you had to do was ask.’ And then she opened up her dress and pulled ’em out, and wow. They were glorious.”
Kitty laughed again, bell-like and free. Then she looked down at her own breasts. “Mine took a while. I was flat as a board until the middle of high school. But I ended up not doing too bad,” she said with a sly grin.
“Not bad at all. So that’s my second secret. Like a real country boy, the first girl I fucked was my cousin.”
Kitty finished her drink, still chuckling. “Well, I think you skimped out on some details, there, mister. But I guess I’ll count it,” she said, and stood up. She stretched and yawned, reaching up into the air and watching as Andrew’s eyes widened.
She very casually reached behind her neck and unbuttoned her dress. She walked over to a chair and slipped the dress off, neatly putting it on the back of the chair. She stood, the contrast with the black dress gone and her pale skin complimenting white silk bra and panty set with white garters, which dangled, having been freed of their stockings.
She was slight, but not thin. There was a thickness to her. Her waist, her hips, her thighs. A very proportionate thickness that Andrew swooned at. A little belly that pouched out above her high-waisted panties.
“Jesus Christ, you are a vision. You are perfect. Ever since the first time I saw you, I’ve been dreaming about you. I’m not exaggerating. Funny, charming, brilliant, and beautiful,” he said dreamily. She tilted her head and put her hands on her hips, and she seemed charged by his compliments.
Something about her changed in that moment. Her body language, her aura, something. She seemed more free when she was in lingerie. Like she was unleashed. Her eyes smoldered, and her limbs were loose. She ran her fingers through her hair and bit her bottom lip as she walked back to the couch. Her gait had changed as well, walking with long strides, her hips swaying.
“Wait-” he started and then seemed embarrassed. “What?” She asked, her eyes once again full of curiosity. He laughed to himself and then looked up to meet her eyes. “Can you put the stockings back on? It’s just… it completes the set. It seems too perfect not to see it all together.”
Her joyous grin turned into a wide salacious smile. Her head cocked as if she were considering his request. Then she gathered up the stockings and walked out in front of the couch as if performing.
She held the stockings up and smoothed them. They were pearl white silk. She put her hand in and stretched them out a bit. She held them up as if checking for runs, and then she turned around, looking at him over her shoulder. “Well, since this is turning out to be a lovely date, I believe I’ll have to put my garters on the appropriate way.”
She hooked her thumbs into her panties and slowly pulled them down, lifting each foot and not letting the panties touch the floor. Then she put her foot up on an ottoman, never showing Andrew the front of her body, and very carefully pulled each shimmering stocking up her well-sculpted legs, up to her thick thighs. She stapped each into the garter and then, standing back up, pulled her panties back on, over the garters. When she was done, she turned back around, lifted her arms, and bowed. Andrew clapped.
“Now the panties can come off without disturbing the garters,” she explained.
She walked back over to him and put one foot up on the couch to show off her stockings. “I find people who have very specific tastes to be much more interesting. Don’t you?” He swallowed and nodded. “And more than anything, I like when people know what they want and ask for what they want.”
She sat down next to him and put her hand on his chest. “Do you know what I want, Andrew?” She whispered, letting her fingers crawl like a spider up his chest to his chin. Then she tapped his lips three times. “I want that last secret.”
“We both like secrets, I think. You have a hunger in your eyes, like the one I saw in myself. That boy hiding in a closet, waiting for gossip.”
She laughed, her hand going to her chest and her whole body contorted. “I do. It’s true. I wasn’t far off as a little girl. I used to read all my friends’ diaries when I slept over their houses. I’d go through their parents’ dresser drawers. Though, as an adult, I’m enjoying the lack of closets. We can ask for secrets now, and if we meet someone interesting, we might get them.”
He closed his eyes again and took a deep breath. “I’ve been learning to do that. It’s taken a long time. Asking for what I want. It’s almost more powerful than getting it. We stumble around this world so afraid, so stifled by social pressure. We take the meager scraps the world gives us, and we learn to be thankful. Most people don’t even know what they want, let alone how to ask for it.”
She seemed impressed by the statement. She reached over to the bar and got the nearly empty cocktail shaker, pouring the remains into her glass. Then she clinked it against his and said, “To ask for exactly what we want without demand or expectation. It is important to understand that there is very little chance of getting what you want without that first brave step. And Andrew, I can’t wait to hear what you want. What you really want. But first, another secret.”
He sighed and looked her over again. She pushed out her chest for him and seemed to revel in his gaze. Her soft skin seemed to glow in the lamplight. Her lips glistened. Her eyes were both hungry and sharp.
” Wait, before that, I think we need to even things out a little,” she said, reaching forward and putting her hands on his chest. She slipped her hands under his blazer, and as she stood, she smoothly pulled it off.
She stood behind him and, reaching around him, unbuttoned his dress shirt. Her breasts pressed against his back, and she purred in his ear. “Will you take off your slacks for me?”
Once she took off his pants, he stood and slipped off his shoes, socks, and, finally, his pants. He folded his pants and put them over the back of a chair, along with his jacket. He came back to the couch wearing only boxers and an a-shirt.
He settled back on the couch, and she slipped next to him, curling her legs back and slipping an arm around him. He slipped his around her, and she smiled up at him.
” Alright. Secrets,” she demanded.
“Number three. Every summer, since I was a child, we have been going to this lakeside resort. Nothing fancy, just a sort of family reunion. Fishing and picnics and so on. There were other families there, too. It was a big place. They had horses and so on,” he explained. Kitty lounged on the couch and put her head on his lap, listening intently.
“Cousin Anabelle and her big tits weren’t there that year. Like me, she had gone off to college. So I had to find someone new to entertain me,” he said with a laugh, though she noticed a bit of his tenseness came back. He hesitated and then took another sip of his drink.
“My last year of college, I went home for Christmas. Knowing that I had pretty good job prospects and that I was planning to move to the city, my parents decided to try and find me a wife while they still had some say.”
Kitty raised an eyebrow at that. Andrew chuckled. “They set up three dates for me in five days. I was going to blow them off, tell them to forget it, but I came home bored and horny, and I decided I wanted to see how far I could get with a few mid-grade socialites.”
” The first date was a stick-thin Connecticut girl who hardly said a word and was scared of her own shadow. I tried to charm her, I tried to smooth talk her, but she was practically clutching her pocketbook to her chest the whole date.”
” The second one was
“The third one was this rather short and very pretty girl from Boston. She had this thick head of glossy black curls, parted in the middle, and she wore a puffy dress that looked like it should have a poodle on it. When I picked her up, she rolled her eyes at me and just handed me her purse.”
Kitty laughed and went about making herself another drink.
” I walked her to the fanciest restaurant in the little town around the resort, and she crossed her arms and stomped and said, ‘I don’t want to eat here. I want a hotdog!’”
I looked at her, hearing her soiled, bratty tone, and I just laughed, which seemed to confuse her.
” You know, I could go for a hotdog, too,” I said and walked down to the beach. She followed.
” We had hotdogs and rootbeer, and then she crossed her arms again and said, ‘Now I want ice cream!’ Well, again, I laughed, and then, taking a chance, I leaned in and said, ‘You’re being a little brat. What makes you think you’ve done anything to deserve ice cream?’”
“Her whole demeanor totally changed. Her arms went to her sides, and her eyes got big, and she bit her bottom lip. In almost a whisper, she asked, ‘Well, what would I have to do to deserve ice cream?’ Then she looked up at me with these puppy dog eyes. I played it cool, maybe even a little mean. I narrowed my eyes at her and moved in close. I whispered in her ear, ‘I think we need to go somewhere, and you have to show me that you’re a good girl,” I explained.”
Kitty had a pleased little smirk on her red lips. She slipped to the other end of the couch, putting her feet on his lap.
“I know exactly what kind of girl you were on a date with. In fact, I may have been that girl a few times over the years,” she said, the ball of one of her feet slowly moving against his hardening cock.
” So, not knowing where else to go, I brought her back to my room. She followed obediently, no longer rolling her eyes. When we got to my room, she nervously stood against my door, waiting for my commands. I considered her and then pointed at the bed. ‘I think before we see what a good girl you can be, we should first address your conduct at the restaurant, don’t you?’ I asked, and she nodded vigorously. It was obvious she had been waiting for someone to teach this kind of lesson. She made her way to the bed, looking at her feet.”
Kitty opened her legs a bit, and his eyes were drawn to her smooth inner thighs and the crotch of her panties. She touched her thighs softly and sighed. “You haven’t described her nearly enough,” she critiqued.
“Well, as I said, she was short, probably just over five feet, and a little younger than me, just barely twenty. Sort of chubby-cheeked, in an adorable way. Big brown eyes, a little button nose, and these sort of bee-stung lips. She was pouting again, but not in a bratty way, in a desperate, needy way. Her dress was low-cut enough for me to see a bit of her tits. Smallish, but very pert, similar to you, but not quite as large.”
When he mentioned her breasts, Killy’s hands went up to her bra. She traced the lacy rim of the garment, her fingers dipping under the cups of her bra. He moved closer, but she pushed him back to where he was with one of her stocking-covered feet.
“I couldn’t see much more of her frame because of the dress, which was starting to annoy me. When she got close to the bed, I turned on her and pushed her so that she bent at the waist, and her chest fell onto the mattress. She made a little whimper, but did nothing to move or stop me.”
He stopped talking as he watched Kitty reach up and pinch her nipple through the bra. He could see its hard shape through the fabric, and his cock twitched. She felt it with her foot and smiled.
“I pushed up her dress, which had all this tulle. I ended up reaching up under her dress and undoing all of her little slip or petticoat or whatever. She did nothing to hinder or help me. She just let me push and pull her around.”
” Was she wearing panties? Sometimes little bratty girls don’t even wear them,” Kitty said, her voice a little brassier, her eyes slightly glazed. Her fingers. Moved down her stomach, down to her inner thighs again, stopping just at the leg of her panties.
” She wore rather ordinary cotton panties. A pale blue color, if I remember correctly.”
Kitty purred. “I bet she was already wet. Could you see a dark spot between her legs?”
Andrew closed his eyes for a moment and tried to recall. “Her thighs were thicker than I imagined, and her ass was gloriously round. As she arched her back a little, the two orbs of her butt were perfect. I couldn’t help but move forward and lay my hand on it. She let out a little whimper, and I chucked. She looked back at me and narrowed her eyes. ‘Don’t laugh at me,’ she pouted. I spanked her once, just a little swat. ‘Why now? You’ve been acting like a silly little girl all evening,’ I said and gave her another swat.”
Kitty’s fingers moved ever so slightly, pressing against the crotch of her panties. Her red lips let out a short, caught breath.
” The brat came back for a moment as she glared at me over her shoulder. ‘Well, if you think I’m such a silly little girl, then why don’t you spank me for real instead of wasting my time!’”
Kitty laughed, throwing her head back. “Oh, my. Asking for it, wasn’t she?”
Andrew nodded. “She was, so I gave it to her. One, two, three, hard spanks. Ten in all. She faced the bed again and braced for them. When I was done, I could hear her panting.”
” Could you smell her pussy? She must have been dripping by then.”
Andrew considered. “I could, just barely. Like now,” he said, looking her in the eye. She smiled shamelessly and pushed her hips out a little. Her panties were pulled against her a little more, and he could see the split of her lips. Her finger traced it and then pressed against the top of that split.
” Nothing gets brats wetter than finally getting the attention they’ve been begging for,” she said a little dreamily.
” True. When I was done giving her another ten hard strokes, she was up on her tiptoes, pushing her butt up at me, making little begging sounds.”
” Rutting against you, like a cat in heat,” Kitty mumbled, almost to herself. She rubbed faster.
” You could take those off,” Andrew offered, reaching over to touch her thigh. Her skin was fever hot. She glared at him. “I could, but that’s not the game. You have to finish the story first.”
She reached up to remove his hand from her thigh, but then she held it there for a moment, seeming torn. He smiled down at her and moved his hand away on his own. He settled it on her ankle.
” I slapped her one more time as hard as I could, and she winced and whined. For the first time, I did feel how wet she was, my hand lingering down, and her breath was suddenly fast and shallow. I stood up and reached for my belt. She looked over her shoulder again. I wanted to fuck her desperately, just stick my cock in her hot, wet, needy little cunt, but I knew I shouldn’t. So I looked her in the eye and asked. ‘Well, now that we’ve discussed your earlier attitude, why don’t you get on your knees and show me what a good girl you are?’”
” Fuck-perfect,” Kitty hissed.
She was on her knees in a flash, but I grabbed her hair and made her look up at me again. “Do good girls get their dresses dirty?” I asked, and she blushed. She got up and unzipped her dress, slithering out of it quickly.
”’ I am a good girl, and I’ll swallow every drop. I think you just want to see my titties,’ she bratted carefully. I cut my eyes at her but then groaned at the sight of her. Her bra was simple, too, just a worn cotton piece. She wasn’t expecting the date to go this way. She was probably expecting some boring shuffleboard date. She looked younger, naked, and suddenly shy. She sucked on her bottom lip as she fumbled with her bra, awkwardly reaching around her back. When it was finally off, she was knock-kneed and fidgeting as I saw her puffy nipples, fat like her lips.”
” Fuck,” Kitty said with a start, suddenly moving her fingers away from her clit. “I have to wait,” she explained, and I nodded, grinning.
” I reached up and felt them. Possessively groping her felt glorious. Soft warmth. She was so reactive to my touch, pushing herself into my hands, moving in, and reaching for my pants. I put my hand on her shoulder and pushed her down. She knelt immediately, looking up at me hungrily. I unzipped my pants, and she was pulling them down, almost frantic. When she finally saw my cock, and got it in her hands, she looked hypnotized.”
Kitty moaned approvingly. Once more, her foot rubbed against his now rock-hard cock. Through his boxers, her toes clenching around him.
“I never had my cock sucked like that, before or since. It started pretty good, but a few strokes in, I pet her hair and said, ‘That’s right, show me what a good girl you are.’ And then she really started going. She seemed to be enjoying doing it almost as much as I was enjoying receiving. I told her to reach between her legs, and she sucked my cock. I told her to rub herself. I told her to show me what a desperate little slut she was. My words seemed to turn her into an animal.”
Kitty shook her head and smiled. “Very good,” she purred, her face and neck red with a blush that was slow, but growing.
“I waited for it. It was hard, but I wanted to come hearing her. It didn’t take her very long, thankfully. Her hand moved fast, and she started losing her rhythm on my cock, so I grabbed her hair and used her mouth. That seemed to push her over the edge. I came down her throat as she moaned and writhed.”
With his story done, Kitty gave him a little golf clap. “A lovely story. A perfect little secret. Finding a brat that longs to be made into a good girl,” she said, reaching back and very elegantly unhooking her bra. She held the bra to her chest, letting it fall slowly.
“The question is, Andrew, are you a good boy?”
His eyes widened. She studied him. She seemed to know that his desire fought with a certain shame. The role he had just spoken about. The power in it and how Kitty was reversing it.
She finally removed her bra completely, exposing perfect breasts, soft and smooth like her skin, topped with ruddy rose-colored nipples that were hard and sticking out dramatically. His eyes danced on the nearly imperceivable pattern the lace left on her skin and the slight redness on the bottom of each breast. Delicious details.
She reached down, lifting up her hips, and finally slipped off the panties they had both been tortured by. She put her hand between her legs to cover herself from his eyes.
“Can you do what that good girl did, Andrew?” She said, opening her legs and showing him her bare inner thighs. She was naked except for her garters and stockings. His eyes were wide, and he let out a little whimper. He nodded.
“Can you use your words? Can you tell me you want to be a good boy for me?” She asked, moving her hand slightly to one side, showing short, neat brown hair between her legs. Only two fingers hid the rest.
It’s all he wanted, yet there seemed to be some hesitation, some last vestment of the role he desperately wanted and felt shame for wanting. He shifted to his knees on the couch and nodded again. “I want to be a good boy for you. More than anything,” he said, with another bit of hesitation at the end, seeming unsure of how to address her.
She laid back and put one stockinged foot on his chest. “And what does that mean at this moment?” She asked and batted her thick lashes. Her other foot moved up and rubbed against his aching cock again against the ridiculous tent in his boxers.
“To go down on you, to service your perfect pussy and make you come,” he said, the need stoking his confidence.
“And what else did you make her do?” The question made him hold his breath for a moment. Fear in his eyes. Fear that she relished.
“T-touch herself-myself,” he said and his face was crimson.
She moved her hand away, and he saw the soft hair’s slight pattern that pointed to the neat slit in the center. His breath caught, and his eyes focused on that slit.
“And what did you call her? What did you call that good girl who was desperate to get your cock in her mouth? Do you think what you said about her was true about you?” Killy asked, her voice thick with power and lust. Her chuckle was a low feline growl.
Her foot moved, and skillfully, she pulled his boxers down with her toe. His big cock sprung out and bobbed there.
“I-um-I told her…” he swallowed, squirming and stupid with shame and need. “I told her to show me what a desperate little slut she was.”
Kitty spread her legs. She moved a hand between them and pushed her lips apart slightly, showing his wet coral pink. He whined, and his cock bobbed up again.
“And is that what you are, Andrew? Is that what kind of good boy you’re going to be for me? A desperate, needy little slut that would do anything to get his mouth between my legs?”
“Yes! Please!” He whined, pressing his chest against her foot.
“Take a hold of your cock and stroke it. Tell me what you are, and I’ll let you.”
Again, whimpers and hesitation, but it only took a few seconds for him to reach down and take hold of his throbbing cock. His eyes closed a little as he stroked it. She sat up and snatched his hand from it, holding it up, and then, while looking him in the eye, licked his palm slowly. “I want my good boy to be able to stroke it hard and fast. Now, tell me.”
He swallowed, in awe of her, and moved his hand back into position. As he stroked himself with renewed vigor, he nodded. “I’m your good boy. Your needy, desperate, slutty boy. Please, please, can I taste you?”
She sighed with pleasure, and she shifted, sitting back on the couch and pushing her ass to the edge.
“Get on the floor,” she commanded. He knelt instantly. Her hand was in his hair, pulling his mouth forward. In a flash, all of his senses were filled with her pussy.
They were both so on edge. There were no more words, no more teasing. Just his mouth in her cunt and his hand on his cock. Her moans no longer purrs and hisses, only load moans and half-mouthed curses.
The last bit of their conscious mind, the only parts not overcome with pleasure, monitored each other. They waited as the other climbed, then climbed to meet them. Higher and higher until both of their hips bucked and their muscles tightened.
When she came, he felt the white pain of her hand clutching his hair. Her thighs closing around his head. He grunted into her, and she laughed.
Then they were panting, spent, and she slipped off the couch to cuddle with him on the floor. “My good boy,” she said with kisses all over his face. He became shy and bashful, burying his face in her breasts.
“You have to clean up the mess you made, and then we can find some dinner,” she whispered in his ear and then they kissed, long and desperate.
“Thank you,” he murmured, and she rubbed her thumb across his cheek.
“Next time, I bet you want to slip your cock inside of me, don’t you?” She laughed. He groaned at the very idea.
“Well, we will have to talk about that. Because you’ll have to ask permission.”
“You won’t give me permission?” He asked, watching as she got up and fetched a bowl of grapes.
She ate one while looking at him on the floor.
“Oh, I’m not the one you have to ask.”