Chapter 9

My experience with Ms. Mahmoud was terrifying in a different sort of way. She had the power to destroy me completely and I was wise enough to fear her vengeance. With “Bitch” and my own sweet Jesse, I managed to instill my own sense of justice and discipline. Even with PC Anderson, I was able to force her behavior into my mold of correct submissiveness. Ms. Mahmoud was my first experience with the hard cold fact of total loss of control over a female in my sphere of influence.

I knew I had to do something to rid myself of the jinx of her bad vibes and I decided to scout the dance hall for a silly young thing ready to do anything for a taste of my secret mix of medicinal weed that let them dream their vibrant hues of passion without guilt.

I saw a sweet-looking young plump thing with a set of boobs that made all the boys look twice. I was making my final approach when a pair of biker boys with chains and nasty faces scooped her up right under my nose before I could reel her in.

I stood stupidly at a loss for a moment with two glasses of draft in my hands scanning for a secondary target when a short, older but attractive business woman leaned over and said,

“If you have a spare, I am certain I can fit it in.”

I looked her over carefully because I didn’t want to get stuck with some tasteless slapper with bad teeth or a loose puss. Actually, I liked everything I saw and I absorbed the look in her eyes that sparkled with a sense of humor and vitality. The thing that made my mind up was the way her tight wool skirt stretched across her backside. It showed her round globes outlined with a seductive gap in the middle that made me instantly hard just looking. I easily imagined how my cock would feel parked up inside her soft curved cheeks. I could almost taste her bouncing and delicious backside rubbing on me slow and sweet making me feel good down deep inside where my juices were bubbling with brimming lust.

These western females were all such whores.

She sat across from me with her skirt short enough to allow me a glimpse of the paradise between her legs. Her lips were painted just like all other western women and the eye shadow was a bit overdone to offset the unbelievably long false eyelashes. All in all, she made my dick hard as a rock and I was dying to get her flat on her back ready to receive her first lesson in obedience from my firm will.

The interesting female took the drink I offered and left a bit of foam on her upper lip that I wanted to lick off immediately. Of course, that would be socially unacceptable even in this den of decadence and decaying morals. Her tongue snaked out like a serpent queen of temptation and took care of matters all by itself. I was impressed with its dexterity and its flexibility in scooping up all the foam with a single swipe.

“My name is Rose, dearie. No need for last names around here.”

I did not want to tell the strange woman my passport name was Ahmed so I quickly blurted out “Alfie!” to fit into my surroundings like one of the school of half-wasted fish. I was astonished when she broke out into a giggle and looked at me in a strange way.

“I’m sorry, dear, but my ex-husband was called Alfie and he was right nasty piece of work.”

I instantly regretted using the alias with bad memories but it was too late to change it without looking false in front of a stranger.

“You can just call me Al then just like all my real friends.”

Somehow her hot hand was rubbing my knee and I allowed my fingertips to come into contact with the edge of her rounded breast as I had it draped around the padded booth in which we were sitting. She didn’t pull away and that was an encouraging sign so I continued my explorations at a discreet pace hopefully unsuspected.

We had a few and then it was suddenly last orders and we stumbled out into the slightly damp night like marooned sailors looking for shelter in a storm. Thankfully, she invited me to her place which was quite convenient and I followed along behind her maintaining contact with her lush hip and generous waist.

When we got to her flat, we both tried studiously to ascend the stairs without a lot of racket because she told me,

“My landlady doesn’t like me to have male visitors after midnight.”

I was certain curious eyes were watching us go up those two flights of stairs but at that point, my demanding cock was in full control and insisted we continue to the point of no return in a horizontal position on her mattress. We didn’t even fool around with the subterfuge of pouring a nightcap because we both needed instant gratification without further delay. I was buried to the hilt in record time and she was keeping time with my beat with her panting breath and whining whimpers. It was altogether a command performance and my flood of anointed seed rushed unabated into her female cave without any impediment of any kind. I hoped the frenzied woman had the common sense to use some sort of medicinal protection against unwanted procreation with random strangers.

In all honesty, I have to admit the sight of her impressive rear-end sticking up in the air was enough to incite me to test her reaction to a much-needed correction for her wanton behavior. I only hesitated because I did not want the involvement of a landlady or neighbor to see if she was in a consensual frame of mind at such a late time in the middle of the night. It would not do to attract attention to my nocturnal adventures considering the sensitivity of my current mission to destroy the forces of capitalism in their home territory.