Chapter 5

We chatted our way to Alpena, parked, and entered the restaurant. We reviewed the menus, and made our selections. I selected the Chicken Tetrazzini (almost like my mother used to make!), while Sandra went for the Chicken Parmesan. I liked The Atrium, so we lingered over our meal, and enjoyed our conversation. When Sandra excused herself to visit the restroom, I signaled the server, and asked for the check.

Once she returned, I took her arm, and led her to the door. Leaning over, I whispered in her ear, "Do you need a sweater? You look a little cold."

She looked puzzled for a moment, then blushed deeply red. "Really? Am I showing that obviously?"

"Yep. I bet the server knows to within a degree just how cold it was in that restaurant. I hope that he appreciated the display as much as I did!"

I left her there, standing beneath the canopy, and retrieved the truck. I stopped, assisted her into her seat (replacing the towel beneath her), and returned to my seat.

We wound our way through Alpena, got back on the state highway, and headed home. Once we were out of town, and away from the street lights, Sandra started to relax. I rested my hand upon her thigh, caressing her casually. As I occasionally moved higher with my touch, she would grasp my hand and redirect me closer to her knee. After the third or fourth redirection, she observed, "You are trying to make me into a swamp, aren't you?"

I protested, ineffectively. "No! I'm simply trying to keep you entertained on our drive!"

She had a rejoinder ready. "Entertained? I've got your entertainment right here!" With that, she maneuvered my seat belt and re arranged my pants, extracting my tool. She slid over towards the door, re seat-belting herself, and then began to caress my noodle into firmness. She glanced about, and satisfied that no one was about, leaned over and began to breathe upon me.

She murmured endearments to my johnston, stoking my length, and peppering my glans with soft kisses. I hardened with this treatment, and she commented. "You sure make a girl feel appreciated. When he's soft, your dick looks so small and harmless, helpless even. Now that you're standing up and taking notice, he looks more fierce. I love how hard he gets in my mouth, I love how he throbs on my tongue. When you get all googley eyed when I suck you, it's like the experienced, assertive man is clay in my hands. The reversal of roles, with me leading you towards your release, makes me all swampy."

She ceased her monolog at that point, taking me into her mouth, advancing and retreating until she worked her way down my length. Once her lips rested upon my base, she paused and hummed. The vibrations on my turgid length were quite distracting (likely comparing unfavorably to texting as a "safe driving practice"!), and I gently drew her off of me. She made a moue of complaint, and I explained, "As wonderful as that is, and as skillful as you are, all I need is one night traveling deer, or one not so sober driver, and we are in an awkward place. Let me pull, along one of these dirt roads coming up here, and I can enjoy this wonderful gift you are giving me, and give you my full appreciation."

She lay back down, now resting her cheek against my cock. She resumed her narration. "Once you lose all focus upon anything but what I'm doing to your dick, I really feel quite prideful. It's as if I'm so alluring, so exciting, that I can distract you from the entire outside world, and make you only pay attention to me, and what I am doing to your peter. It's a nice turnaround from you tying me, and making me display myself. It's like I'm the one in control, and you will react as I decide. I kinda like it!"

I slowed, finding a side road to pullover on. I drove a way, shut off the lights, and pulled her up for a leisurely kiss. Our tongues explored each other's mouth, and I fondled her breast. Her rigid nipple spoke to her excitement, and I worked my way into her dress, to savor it's warmth skin to skin.

I pulled away, and invited her to shed her dress. A moment's hesitation and she drew it over her head, laying it over the back of her seat. She pushed me hack into my seat, and presented my orders. "Alright, mister! Now it's time for my after dinner treat! You sit right there, and let Mistress Sandra rock your night! You have spent the weekend showing me a good time, now it's time I showed you how much I've appreciated all your efforts."

She kneeled upon the seat, and slid her mouth down my throbbing hardness. I rested my hands in her hair, more as petting than as pressure, and she purred. I threw my head back, enjoying her tongue spiraling down my prick, and back up again. Resting her weight on one hand, she slid the other up and down me, following her lips. Alternating pressure, she seemed to attempt to milk my essence from me. A few minutes of this pleasure, and she removed my unit from her mouth, and began to run her tongue along my scrotum. Accompanying this with firm stroking of my joystick, was a delight in a way that I was completely incapable of putting into words. She truly had my complete attention, as she worked her oral artistry upon me.

I began to climb to my pinnacle of pleasure, and she detected the trembling that heralded it. She stopped her caress, holding my tool in her hand, and soaking my balls in her hot mouth. Once she felt my arousal back away from its peak, she once again began to stroke me, and added a twisting motion to her handling of my schwantz. This again corkscrewed my libido into high gear, and she once again halted the festivities, until I could back away from the threatened cum explosion.

Again she resumed her work, and returned to fucking her throat upon my cum dispenser. Moaning, she threw herself into the task, and the effects upon me were overwhelming. I began to throb, and (I must confess) the pressure upon the back of her head shifted from "pet" to "Press" She moaned again, and she took her off hand, and pressed my hands upon her head, as if driving her throat down my cock with my hand. I took the suggestion, and began to press, and pull upon her head, as if to suggest pacing, and depth, to her fellatio. She moaned, louder, and released the base of my cock, joining both hands behind her back, as if bound.

The effect of this in the moonlight was inspiring. Sandra is pretty, smart, stylish, and sophisticated. Such a woman submitting to me, is such a dramatic fashion, really makes my world quite wonderful. I did not think my pecker could throb any more intensely, but she proved me wrong. I gazed upon her smooth flanks, admired her taut buttocks, loved her sucking, tongue laving, blowjob, and delighted in her moaning gobbling of my tool. This, this was the moment the evening peaked. There could be no improvement on my life, over this very experience. I was truly blessed. She seemed to be attuned to my thoughts, because she took me full length into her airway, and began to moan while wringing her head from side to side. I attempted to get out the words that would warn her of my looming explosion, but she had taken all power of speech from me. I vapor locked, time froze, I became unaware of anything but the tsunami of man juice pouring from me. My climax seemed to last for full minutes, jet after jet of scalding pleasure plasma erupting down her gullet. Time passed, and I dimly became aware of a tapping upon my legs. Focusing from a distant place, I realized two things: that Sandra was beating upon my leg, and that I had forced her down my entire length, likely completely blocking her airway. I drew her off me, and released her hair. She sat upright, leaned against me, and began to catch her breath.

Once her breathing slowed to a nearly normal rate, she began to lick her lips, and scoop up errant tendrils of jism from her chin, and suck her fingers clean. Glancing at me, she raised an eyebrow. "What? Didn't you ever get told to clean your plate? I simply don't think it's proper to waste any!"

Breathless myself, I took a second to answer. "No, you just surprised me. First with the wonderful blowjob you just gave me,"

She interrupted: "Do you mean throat fucking?"

"Perhaps, although we may have a disagreement regarding who administered the throat fucking! In either case, I loved the blowjob, you truly are an artist! Secondly, I did not think that it was possible for me to become aroused so soon after the explosive climax you coaxed from me, but your display of cleanliness—here, you missed a spot—brings a twitch suggesting there may still be life in the old boy, despite your best efforts!"

She swiped the offending drab of goo, and, licking her fingers, rebutted me. "After that mouth-to-cock resuscitation I administered, he'd better be raring to go! I worked hard enough to raise him from nearly dead!"

"That you did, except that geezers such as myself often react paradoxically to medications and therapy. It appears that this is one such case. Perhaps after some rehabilitation time, he will be back in the game."

She inspected her fingers, and, finding no remaining traces of my emission, reached for her dress. As she replaced it, she noted, "I certainly hope so! Now that my palate has been cleansed, I think I'm ready for some other evening pleasures!" She adjusted the fit, tucking her breasts into the dress just so, and shrugging to settle everything into place. "Think you are up to driving the rest of the way home, or have I rendered you a dried up husk of a man?"

"I think I can keep it together long enough to make it into the door, although if you plan on dishing out some more, from where that came from, I may not last too much longer than that!"

Primly, she observed, "Just so long as you can navigate safely home, once there you can ravish me, to my satisfaction."

I shakily turned around, and drove home. Fortunately, she was content with gazing at me smugly. Occasionally, we would drive beneath a street light, and she would lick her lips meaningfully. It turns out, my willy was not so worn out as he had initially thought.

We parked, and entered the cabin. Once inside, I paused, and, taking her hand, held her at arm's length. "You know, Sandy, you consistently impress me with how pretty you are. Tonight, in this dress, you are simply beautiful. Thank you for sharing yourself with me this weekend."

Sandra leaned into me. "Mark, thank you for leading me along this weekend. It's been wonderful."

She led me to the bedroom by the hand. Once there, she gazed into my eyes as she loosened her dress, and allowed it to pool at her feet. She removed my jacket, loosened my tie, and removed my shirt. Kneeling, she removed my belt, opened my pants, and drew them and my shorts down to my feet. Lifting my feet, she draped my clothes over a chair, and drew me to bed. We reclined face to face, and she held my gaze.

"Mark, this has been a wonderful weekend for me, but..." she paused, as if searching for words.

"Me, as well. Are you trying to find a gentle way to tell me that you don't see us having a long term thing? No white picket fence, rug rats, and minivan?"

She paused, again. I continued. "Sandra, I truly like you. You are a wonderful woman, and make me wish I was 20 years younger. You are looking for a family, and feel ready to settle down with the right guy. I've heard you talking to the other women about it."

"Mark, I don't want to seem ungrateful..."

"Really? If either of us should be grateful, it's me!"

She blushed. I continued. "Sandy, we're at different places in our lives. My oldest son is nearly your age. You're looking to settle down and start your own family. That is proper. While I hope you know I'll be here for you, I don't think either one of us believes that we're going to ride that minivan together, off into the sunset."

She hugged me tightly, silently. I caressed her back, patted her hair. Well, all that as well as reacted to firm young breasts pressed against me. After a few moments, she pulled back, looked between us, and observed, "Doesn't look like you are entirely on board with the 'no future for the two of us' thing. Part of you seems enthusiastic about our future together!"

She caught my eye again. "At least, for a little while!"

"You have that effect upon me. You've been the subject of my fantasies for quite some time. I've tried to hide it..."

"I had no idea!", she interjected.

" ... but, men just react in certain ways to attractive women. Like you."

"Thank you, sir!" She held my gaze for a moment, and appeared to reach a decision. "Mark? I'd like to be your slave girl again, for tonight."

That was a welcome invitation. "Did you think that I'd need to be convinced? Any particular thoughts?"

"No, nothing special. I just want you to tie me up, and take me. I didn't know I'd like it as much as I do, and it's especially exciting to submit to you."

"Delighted to accommodate you!"

I rolled out of bed, and retrieved my cord. I tied her wrists to her ankles, leaving her with her face pressed to the sheets. I paused to admire her from this perspective, her hair spread across the bed, her nipples erecting, her taut abdomen, her trim thighs folded against her calves. She looked back at me, a question in her eyes.

I gave her a guy response. "What?"

"Why are you looking at me that way? Nobody has ever looked at me like you are, right now."

"Well, I suppose that it's customary to admire pretty things, and I got to tell you, particularly naked, you are one pretty woman!"

"You're just saying that because you are about to do despicable things to me! I bet you say that to all your helpless slave girls!"

"Yep, every one! Do you want to know how many?"

"I'm not sure I want to know this!"

"I'll tell you the whole truth. You know you want to know how many women have fallen prey to my machinations!"

"OK, how many?"

"Including you?"

"I'm getting unsure about this slave girl thing! OK, including me. How many?"

"One. But she is my favorite!"

"So, I'm your favorite out of one slave girls? You really know how to make a girl swoon with your praises!"

"Simply telling the truth, ma'am!" I stepped up to the bed, and rolled her around so, now supine, her head lay over the edge, and waggled my tool over her face. "What would you say to a little sixty nine?"

She fell into character. "Oh, mister, a helpless girl couldn't say much of anything, could she? Once you have her naked and helpless, tied all up, you could do nearly anything you wanted to her, couldn't you?"