Chapter 37: A cooling off period

Janelle threw her energies into her art for the next few weeks. One aim of their art classes was to mount an exhibition of their works, which some prominent art people would judge. This spurred them to take the whole exercise seriously, and Janelle was particularly anxious to make her mark now that her ideas had crystallized and she was getting to grips with the techniques needed to give them expression.

Her urge to be worshipped by Robert accordingly diminished somewhat, and when he repeatedly called her up to beg for a good slapping, she put him off from coming around to her apartment.

Instead, she agreed to meet him publicly and take him shopping. He was still needling her to make good on her threat to buy him a straightjacket. They went to an area noted for quality gentleman's outfitters, not to mention some more fashionable and even down-right wacky establishments.

Robert was making a special effort to not be annoying today, and looked absolutely beautiful in tight slacks and thin white muslin shirt, wearing a fine gold chain.

The first thing she decided to buy for him was a studded leather collar. She paid for it while he immediately buckled it on, as happy as if he'd just accepted an engagement ring. After that, it was a peacock-coloured silk scarf, all the better to blindfold him with.

The incongruity of finding herself buying things for him was not lost on Janelle. When she was with Doug, he had been the sugar-daddy of that particular arrangement.

And sure enough, as the afternoon wore on, Robert became increasingly demanding.

"I'd love it if you could tie me down and drip hot wax on me... tickle my balls with a feather... let me service your anus... and when are you going to touch my cock? You still haven't touched my cock, you know..."

Over coffee, she told him:

"Ya know what Robert, I think I've figured out what you really need."

"What?" he asked, brightening. No doubt thinking he was in for another treat, be it material or sexual.

"What you really need is a middle-aged divorcee with plenty of money and boundless sexual appetite."

"Tell me 'bout it! But where can I find such a creature?"

"There's at least five right here in this café."

He looked around, and saw that she was correct. There were several examples present of forty- and fifty-somethings, faces lined and figures workout-trim yet sagging in places, whose allure to a young masochist like Robert would be greatly heightened by their immaculate appearance and tastefully expensive choice of apparel including, no doubt, their under-things. Janelle still had that arrogance of being in the flush of youth, but even she could appreciate that moneyed mature women really went to a lot of extra effort that was itself, in its own way, attractive.

"Hmmm..." he mused out loud, "I bet they'd appreciate a strong cock like mine. I can't understand why you haven't wanted to play with my cock yet."

Janelle was taken aback. Was he trying to make her jealous, or something?

"Robert, face facts. No way do you have a "strong" cock!"

"How would you know? You haven't even tried it!"

"Robert."

"Yes?"

"C'mere."

"Huh?"

"Move closer."

Robert slid his chair around the table until Janelle could reach his crutch.

She placed her hand flat upon his fly, and rubbed, gently squeezing his burgeoning prick through the fabric. He became very hard extremely quick. His was not a large prick, but boy, did it get hard! She could easily feel the rigid curve of it through the thin fabric of his slacks, straining against the pressure of her hands. She made her palm and fingers form a tunnel over it, and starting vigourously giving him a hand job. Right there in the café, with people all around them. She knew it'd be all over well before anyone cottoned on to what was happening.