Anna-Lisa walked down the corridor, high heels echoing off the walls. Stressed, she barely even stopped as a terrified office worker approached her in the common area. Afternoon light streamed down on her from a window high above. The grunt blinked and held something out to her. Some papers.
"Thanks," she mumbled, and looked him over. He was a handsome man, strawberry blonde and thin, but half her age. Besides, she would never get involved with someone at her job. That was a recipe for disaster. And she was too busy. The planning alone!
She got a cup of coffee and drank it while it was still piping hot, on the way to her office.
"Could you get someone to buy a present for me?" she asked her secretary.
The beautiful, blonde thing looked up at her, confused. "For...?"
"What do you mean?" Anna-Lisa asked. "For my son of course."
"Oh!" The secretary pouted with her well-formed lips. "Didn't know you had a son. How old is he?"
Anna-Lisa hated herself, but she had to think about it. "19!" she finally said. "He's 19, so nothing fancy. Just a you're a man type of gift. You figure it out. You're near his age."
"I'm 31 actually."
"Really?" Anna-Lisa looked her up and down. It would have been inappropriate had she been a lesbian. Now it was jealousy, plain and simple. "Impressive."
"Oh, but Mrs. Johnson! You don't have to compare yourself to anyone!"
"Ask my husband if he feels the same..."
"Excuse me?"
"Never mind, just find something, okay? Nothing too fancy." As she opened the office door, she glanced at her watch. "Jesus fucking crispers! Late again. Get it done, will you?"
"Yes, Mrs. Johnson! I'll--"
The door cut her off. "Mrs. Johnson..." Anna-Lisa muttered. "Sounds like my mom. And she's dead."
Sitting down for a computer meeting she thought about age, her son, her husband, that cheating bastard. She couldn't prove it, of course. He was too sneaky for that. But she knew. He couldn't care less about her. The same could be said about her son, and she rubbed her forehead just thinking about it. No wonder she'd forgotten his age. They barely spoke to one another, just a quick bye each morning. He was never at home when she got back, or she had to work extra hours. The few times she had a couple of days each year he wouldn't even do the effort of cancelling his plans. Most of the time she was at home by herself, sipping wine in front of the television. Vacation? She hated the word.
"Yes, exactly!" she said with authority when she got the word. The rest of the importants nodded their heads.
He'd started an education, but maybe he'd flunked out. She could sort of remember her lying, cheating husband mentioning something about it. Wouldn't surprise her. Like father like son.
When the meeting was over, she stretched her limbs in front of the impressive view. High-rise buildings rose before her, far above the late autumn streets. She could see her own reflection in the window, brown hair tumbling down, red lips, her top-of-the-line office clothes. Had her stupid secretary really told her a compliment? If so, she didn't have time for it. Already the full moon rose between the buildings in front of her.
"Jesus fucking crispers..." she muttered. Was it that late? She wasn't even halfway done. Not if she wanted to secure her standing with the company for another year. It was now or never.
Walking back to the common area for another cup of coffee she noticed the many empty seats. She almost wished that she was back here, sitting in a cubicle, gossiping about that bitch in the corner office. But she was the bitch in the corner office now. She could hear someone hurrying to the elevator, probably deadly afraid of being held up at the last moment. Dark shadows hung over everything. Even the potted plants looked tired.
She stopped when she came to the common area. There, standing at a table, was her secretary. She was all dolled up. She really was beautiful, and for a moment Anna-Lisa thought about her sexual orientation. It would be most practical if she could order her secretary around like one of the men upstairs. She could get her pussy worshipped right now, with a cup of coffee right there, next to her computer. Get some work done.
But her secretary obviously had other plans. She had just stayed to wrap the present, finishing with a big bow on top.
"Hello, Mrs. Johnson!" she said. "I just came back. But here it is. I think he's gonna like it!"
"What is it?" Anna-Lisa asked, but held up her hand before she could get an answer. "Never mind. Thanks. What do I owe you?"
"Oh, nothing, Mrs. Johnson! I couldn't!"
Anna-Lisa had her phone ready. "You sure?"
"Sure!" The secretary winked. "Just remember me for Christmas."
Anna-Lisa blushed. "Yeah... Why not?"
Her secretary put the wrapped present back inside its paper bag. She gave it to her.
"So, where are you going?" Anna-Lisa asked.
"Oh, nowhere. Just a party really."
"I thought you were going on a date or something. You look really nice."
"Mrs. Johnson! You look nice! I'm a mess!"
They both laughed at that. Such an obvious lie! But her secretary must have suspected something. She began to look worried.
"Is it okay?" she asked.
"What?"
"I can stay for another hour if you need me?"
"No, no! I can manage. Just computer stuff."
"You sure?"
"Yeah. Go and be young."
Anna-Lisa held the paper bag in her hand, weighed it. Felt expensive. Good.
Her secretary had started to walk to the elevators, but stopped halfway to the corridor. When she returned, she was blushing herself. She reached into her enormous handbag. When she found it, she quickly put a business card inside the paper bag.
"Here, Mrs. Johnson. Not that you need it, but I do... sometimes. You know, when I'm lonely."
"You couldn't possibly be?" Anna-Lisa asked.
"You're nice, Mrs. Johnson, but it's a hard life out there. Lots of scabby types. I have protection, but..."
Curious, Anna-Lisa raised her eyebrows.
"Oh, it's nothing, Mrs. Johnson, just a little..." Reaching into her handbag, her secretary came up with a small handgun. It looked cute in her manicured hand.
"I see," Anna-Lisa whispered, impressed.
Her secretary put the gun away, nodded at the bag. "That's for when I don't want to take any chances, Mrs. Johnson. They're really nice. Or whatever you want."
"Thanks, I'm sure to check it out."
They said good-bye, and Anna-Lisa returned to her office with the coffee. It was good and bitter.
Fiddling with the computer, she couldn't just ignore the business card, and taking it out she mumbled, "Fine Dining -- For discerning ladies."
Looking up, she asked herself, "Why ladies? I don't-- Oh!"
She dropped the card on the table, from where it looked up at her with naughty eyes. She blushed even harder. It was an escort service! Something special too, otherwise she couldn't imagine that a girl like her secretary would be interested. With their own volition, her red fingernails walked across the desktop. But soon she discovered what they were doing. They were going after her phone, and before she even suspected why she saw her schedule for tonight in front of her.
"Will you look at that?" she whispered. "I'm ahead for once. Maybe I should get me something to eat, I'm a bit..."
Flushing, she felt her pussy starting to drip. That was a long time ago. Not even the strawberry blonde had managed to do that. He was just imagination. This was something else.
Making a simple phone call she got a time and place. "Bon appetite," the sultry voice on the other end said.
Standing up, picking up her coat and gloves, she walked as quickly as she could to the elevator. Out on the street, she raised her hand, and a taxi turned her way. Mumbling the address, she pressed her head to the back of the seat.
She couldn't move, but something about the practicality made her more comfortable. She had a designated time and place, an hour and forty-five minutes to her disposal. Planning for what she would do when she got back to her office she relaxed. She gave the driver a tip as she got out on the sidewalk.
Closing her coat around her, she looked in both directions. It was still a very pleasing area, nothing suspicious at all. Fancy cars turned the corners, nice-looking people moved about. Very fashionable, she decided after a while. She felt old, and so she went into the large building, no different from the others on this street.
Sitting by a reception desk was a curvy redhead with glasses. She looked up from a book as Anna-Lisa came in. There was only an elevator leading away from the lobby.
"Hello, I have an--"
"The appointment at 21:30," the redhead continued. It was the sultry telephone voice.
Her ways made Anna-Lisa insecure. "Should I do anything, or just..."
"It's a complete suite, Madam. And if there's anything at all, just pick up the phone."
The redhead smiled at her in a comforting way, so much so that Anna-Lisa simply nodded and went to the elevator. It opened and picked a floor on its own.
When the doors opened next time, Anna-Lisa gasped. "It's wonderful!" And she was right. The view was almost the same as her own. In fact, she could see her office from here. She'd forgotten to turn off the lights. But that wasn't all. In the enormous room there was a couple of tables laid out with food, with drinks. At the other end was a handsome bed, glowing with a soft blue light. There was also a bathroom and a closet. She walked up to it.
"Oh!"
Inside were rows upon rows of outfits, both male and female, and next to them whips and chains and so many other things that she shut it close before she saw half of them. She pressed her back against the doors.
In just a millisecond she'd opened a door between a five-star hotel and the deepest corners of her mind. She couldn't unsee it, latex, black and tight, things that screamed for her fingers to curl around them.
She fanned herself with her hand. "I never... Oh?"
If she'd been wet before, she was flooding the basement now. She pushed her little fingers down her skirt, pulled them up with a gasp.
Feeling dirty she went into the bathroom. In the wardrobe next to it hung several lovely kimonos, black and red and green and yellow. She picked out a cream colored one, and after a quick body shower, a fresh layer of makeup, she put it on. Then she heard small movements in the other room.
Preparing her face in the mirror, she took a deep breath. She was the one in charge here. She'd paid for it after all. No one would question her, especially not the young thing waiting for her right now. Trembling, she tried to remind herself that he was probably more afraid of her than the other way around. And she felt really good in the thick silk of the kimono.
Walking out of the bathroom she avoided looking at him for as long as possible. It was a power move she'd used before. It would make him question the relation between them. Calmly and confident she moved to the loaded table, picked up a glass, poured a delicious amount of red wine. It was an expensive bottle. Only that saved it when she turned around. She couldn't let her hands drop it. But her mouth opened, her eyes too.
"Mom!" the young man in front of her screamed.
Steadying herself, she put a small amount of wine inside her mouth, tasting it. She closed her eyes. It was really fucking good.
Opening her eyes again, she saw him standing with his hands before him, covering his naked crotch. His strawberry blonde hair moved back and forth as he tried to see if someone else was in the room with them.
"Mom, I... What are you doing here, mom?"
She realized that he, even though she came out of the bathroom wearing a thousand-dollar kimono, couldn't actually believe that his mother would come here for any other reason than him.
Swallowing he took a step forward, hunched over his cock. "Mom, listen, I can explain. It's not what you think."
"Oh, and what's that?"
He opened his mouth.
"Don't answer that," she said. "Just... don't."
He shut his mouth. Once again, he turned his head around. Looking for an exit, she imagined.
"So, this is what you do?" she asked herself.
Taking another sip from the glass, she swirled it around her mouth. There was something about a good bottle of wine, of any experience above everything else. You couldn't stay focused on ordinary things when you tasted something like that, not even ugly, petty things.
Turning her back on him, she walked to the impressive view, felt the soft rug under her naked feet. She continued to see him in the reflection, a much smaller version of herself, but with his father's strawberry blonde hair. He even had his body, when he was young. Good-looking guy, she thought with a sneer. So, this was what he was doing, when he wasn't at home? His father wouldn't know anything about it, nor care.
Motherfucking Jesus crispers, she thought. He's really ripped. He must have worked out, hard. And from the motions of his hands, he had a severe problem covering whatever he was hiding under there.
Besides that, she thought about the ticking clock, about her minutes here dripping down the drain. She tasted some of the wine again. She almost hoped that it wouldn't be as good the third time around, but it was even better. Her mouth was ready for it now.
"Problem is," she mused, "I don't need a son right now."
It's too late, she thought. I don't even recognize you anymore. You could be my son, or one of my friends' sons, or some desperate young man in need of some cash.
He looked up. He had been staring at the floor. His mouth was wide open.
"You like it here?" she asked. "They pay you good?"
"Y-yes."
"And if I complain?"
"They would kick me out for sure."
"Good." She took some more of the delicious, round wine. "Come closer."
One careful step at a time he approached her. Still, he kept his hands over his crotch, but as she looked closer, she could see him peaking around his fingers, the swollen length of him. He wasn't hard, but it was a beast of a cock.
Like father like son, she thought. Her husband also had a big cock. She remembered what it used to feel like, before he took it out of the house and put it into one of his sluts instead. Like nothing she'd ever felt before, or since.
"Do you usually do it with your hands around your cock?" she asked.
"No, but..."
"But what?"
He started to shiver all the way down his body. He curled his toes on the carpet. They had even fixed his toenails, and as she looked with a more... discerning eye, she saw traces of trimming all around his body, from his face to his body hair, even a little makeup.
Then he dropped his hands to his sides, or rather pulled them there. She chuckled.
"Do you usually greet them like this?" she asked, but couldn't help it when her tongue flicked over her lips. Even though he hung between his thighs, he was impressive. But now she saw the weakness in his eyes. Like his father in more ways than one, she thought with disappointment.
"No... but..."
"Again, why?"
He looked into her eyes, pleading. "You're my mom!"
"You sure about that?" she asked, and headed for the phone. But he interrupted her with his hand movements. "No, then tell me what you usually do in situations like this. I imagine that it happens."
Silently, head bent forward, he walked to the closet. There, close to the floor, was a secret compartment. He showed her a grey pill.
"Take it," she said.
"Okay, I will, but can you take me home then, please?"
She didn't say anything. Staring, she wanted to chuckle. He still thought that this was a kind of punishment, that she had tracked him down here for some reason, and was just about to make him feel really bad before she took him home with her, with a promise that he would never do any of these things ever again.
Now that she thought about it, why wasn't that a part of her plan?
Because I have a tight schedule, she thought.
Opening his mouth, putting the pill on his tongue, he swallowed it with a bit of water. He had his own supply, in the same little compartment. The plastic bottle crinkled in his hand.
He looked away from her, but she was curious. There was a chair close to him, and sitting down in it she held him with her gaze, turning it slowly down to the dangling meat between his trembling legs. She wondered how long it would take when she heard him groan, and blood suddenly started to pump into his cock. She saw it twitch, starting to rise. And swell. He seemed to bend his body forward from the weight of it, but then she realized that it couldn't be completely pleasant, a forced erection. Still, he tried to look neutral as his cock rose up to touch his lower abdomen. Fully grown she knew that she couldn't close her fingers around it. A tingling sensation moved down her breasts, to her fingers, deep inside her pussy.
She put the wine away.
"Stop staring, mom," he whispered.
"You didn't listen," she said. "I don't need a son right now."
Daring to take a look at her, he must have seen something he was used to, but not from her. How many women had come to him like this, asked him to do things for them? Many, she thought. She wondered if her secretary had been one of them.
"Why didn't you take it before?" she asked.
"They said I didn't need to," he mumbled.
"Why?"
"They said..." He turned scarlet red.
"What did they say?"
"They said that you were beautiful..."
Another compliment, she thought. I could get used to this. Truth couldn't possibly come from secretaries and whores, but maybe she didn't care anymore. She could feel herself rising higher on her feet, lifting her chin up, looking down on him.
"How does it feel?" she asked, with a pointed glance at his cock.
"Like I can't stop thinking about it..."
"It's really big."
"Mom!"
"Why, isn't that why you are here, why discerning ladies wants to meet you?"
"I don't know..."
"I think it is. That nice, fat cock of yours. It couldn't be for any other reason, certainly not for your charms."
"I don't usually..."
"Then what do you do?"
"T-touch them..."
"I guess that would be okay, a son touching his mother a little? And my feet are really hurting me. I could use a rub."
Leaning back in the chair she stretched one of her smooth legs towards him. He begged her with his eyes, but as she didn't relent, he got down on his knees in front of her. He had an excellent form. He had trained a lot on this, getting down on the floor in front of women who told him what to do. It was better than him doing the same to some poor collage graduate.
Trembling, he took her foot in his hands. They were soft and warm. He held it against his chest, and started to caress her with slow and pleasurable strokes, pressing his thumbs in all the right places.
"You're talented," she said. "But what should I do with this?"
Stretching out her other foot she placed it on his thigh. She could feel the pulse going through him, even though he held himself still. It got that much harder for him when she accidently leaned the side of her foot against his beating cock.
"It's hard to get comfortable," she whispered. "But there is nothing wrong with this. In fact, you should do this more often, show a little..." She pressed her foot a little harder against him, feeling the baby smooth skin of his cock. "... appreciation."
"Uhg..." He tried to sit still, but he didn't move his hands anymore. Head bent forward, it almost looked as if he was on his way to kissing her foot.
"Don't stop," she said. "Otherwise, I'm telling your boss. A lady, am I right?"
"Yes..." he whispered, continuing his slow and powerful movements. She felt him grow harder under the sole of her foot. Smooth and hard, just the way she wanted it.
Flushing, she looked down at him, as he kept going. Her lower foot never left him, but maybe it had gone far enough. When she changed places, she never let it get that close again.
Standing up, she went to the window again. He was still on his knees, on the floor, eyes looking down. She was still horny, but it had to be stopped. She couldn't do this, act like this, in front of him anymore.
"Just get it done," she said to her reflection, barely looking at him.
"Mom?"
"Just do it, okay, so we can..."
Shutting up, she turned her face to his little image, as he started to stroke his cock. He had to use long strokes to get to the end of it. It seemed sensitive, and she was right. Soon, he started to tremble, moan, and before she knew it, he bent forward as he spurted on the floor between his legs. A little bit of spit joined the semen.
Ready to get an end to this she waited, and waited. And waited. But nothing changed. His cock was still rock-hard, still clenched in his fist.
"It's the pill, mom," he whispered.
"Sch, sch, it's okay," she said. "I didn't know. I'm so sorry, baby."
She couldn't look away from him though, and despite her words she wasn't sorry. Her pussy started to vibrate again, and unseen by him she pressed her hand against it from the outside.
"What do you..." She swallowed. "What do you usually do, to take care of it?"
He looked up at her, twisting with his entire body, except for the hand still around his glistening cock. But he couldn't find her eyes in the dark window, so he simply stared, and hesitated, before lifting his sticky hand to his lips, sucking his fingers clean. He panted as he did it. Then he got down on all fours.
"So..." she whispered. "You're nothing but a cock, a glistening, shivering, pussy craving cock?"
As he licked the last of his drip off the carpet, he got up on his knees again. She could still see the smears all around his lips and chin.
Shivering, she lifted her kimono at the back, showing her ass to him. And she didn't have to wait long before he crawled on his hands and knees towards her. She felt his head between her cheeks, his mouth finding its way to her puckering opening. She felt his kiss as she put her arms on the cold window pane, felt his tongue as it dug its way in. She let the kimono fall down over his head.
This city, she thought as she felt her own son licking at her ass, only stopping for air. This city is mine. I can do whatever I want.
Quickly moving away from him, just a few steps, she turned her back to the window, felt his spit between her cheeks. Pressing herself against it, left hand fingernails scratching at the hard surface, her other hand lifted one of the flaps covering her naked crotch.
This was the face of a seasoned whore, she thought with appreciation as she saw him crawl to her again. His eyes were distant. This was probably not even the worst thing he had had to do in this room before. Not yet at least. He had probably needed to degrade himself before lots of different women, some disgusting, old and fat, some wicked to his naked body. There had been a riding crop in the closet. His face looked dead as he opened his mouth to her leaking pussy, licked at it with experience. She didn't have to instruct him as she let the kimono fall over his head again to steady her trembling body against the view. The thrilling thought of some pervert looking in on her made it even better.
Still, he was a good whore. She almost could believe that he enjoyed it. There was passion in his flapping tongue movements, love in the deep kisses of his mouth. His face made love to her pussy in the darkness under the kimono. She'd never known anything like this. As with the wine she couldn't believe there was anything wrong about this feeling, not when it felt this good. He must have waited for her reactions, because when something felt extra good his lips focused on that part again, until something else was needed. Someone had trained him well.
"Don't stop..." she said into the empty suite, as she let her head fall back against the comfortingly cold window pane.
He didn't, but instead increased his attention to her. She lifted her mouth to the ceiling, and as she filled the room with screams, she imagined joining with a choir of her sisters singing in this tower of joy tonight.
Lapping at her one last time, just to clean her up, he left the darkness of the kimono to sit back on his knees again. His face was completely neutral as he looked up at her.
"What's your next desire, Madam?"
Not mom this time, but Madam, and she fucking loved it. Lifting him on his feet she pressed him to the foggy spot on the window, pushed his face against it. As he steadied himself with his arms, her hand found his still hard cock. She tried to get as much of him between her fingers as possible, but it was a frustration that she gladly let fill her body as she started to stroke him with eager motions. She wanted to make him cum on her own, and despite his groans he fulfilled her wishes. He burst on the window in front of him. But he was still as hard underneath her hand, harder even, and enjoying every second of it she slowed down, feeling his painful breaths as she pushed her face against his strawberry blonde hair.
As she let him go, pushed herself off him, he went down on his knees. He showed his beautiful backside to her as he bent his head forward and started to lick his dripping cum from the window. Curious, she swiped a couple of drops with her fingers, and tasting it, she moaned with pleasure.
"So that's why it's called fine dining," she said.
They had made him eat something, or given him other drugs. Something had made it taste better than any of the drippings her disgusting husband had filled her up with during their early years of marriage. No wonder he was so eager for it. Still, she had to ask.
"You like licking up your disgusting semen?"
"Yes..." he whispered. His ragged breath left a fog on the window. He licked it up with the last of his cum. Sitting down on his knees in front of her again he waited for her next instruction.
"I bet some ladies likes to have two of you. You are probably as good a cocksucker as you are a pussy eater, son."
She said it to see if she could get a reaction from him, and a panicky glimpse from his eyes, immediately snuffed out, told her that she had succeeded. She smiled down at him.
"Some probably even want you to call them mother, isn't that right?"
He couldn't answer. Instead, he hung his head forward.
"Yes. Thought as much. So why don't you try it out. Say, thank you, mother."
"Thank you, mother."
"Very good! For what?"
"Thank you, mother, for letting me lick your ass and pussy, making you come. Thank you for stroking me to an orgasm and letting me lick it up."
She sneered. "Nothing but a cock and a mouth."
"Yes, mother."
Looking away from his face, but not his body, she whispered, "I think I will suck it now."
"Yes..." He couldn't finish. Instead, he gulped, and started to twitch. His cock swayed in front of him, still glistening from his involuntary orgasms. He didn't intend it that way, she didn't think, but its motions drew her to its throbbing length.
"Clear that table," she said, pointing to the drink laden part of the buffe. Studying the muscles of his back and buttocks, his well-formed legs, she smiled as he put the bottles and glasses on another table. "And while you're at it, pour me another drink, will you?"
Turning around, a nervous tremor down his limbs, he looked around for the bottle, and finding it, he poured a generous amount of it in a new glass. Walking slowly, he held it out to her.
"Thank you," she said, and tasting the wonderful wine again she stared at him. "What are you waiting for?"
He got down on his knees in front of her again, moved forward.
"Not that, idiot!" she snapped. "On the table. I want to taste you, I said."
The table was covered with a white cloth, and he wrinkled it as he leaned against it, only to meet her staring eyes again. He hastened to sit up on it, his feet barely touching the floor. Meanwhile, she sipped her drink. Seeing him throb before her she finished her glass, letting the last swallow of it flow down her hungry throat. Putting the glass aside, she walked closer to him, still feeling the pleasure of the soft fabric covering her body. She would buy one just like it, she decided.
Looking at the floor between his legs, she couldn't resist another power move. She cleared her throat.
"Forgive me, mother," he gasped, and rushed to get a pillow from the bed. Putting it in place he once again sat down next to the plates and bowls, making them tinkle against each other.
Kneeling, but not like a whore, nor like a desperate young wife trying to please her husband, she steadied herself with a grip on his round thigh, feeling the muscles underneath the smooth skin. Her other hand went to his thick cock, but like the wine it only got better this time around. Silky, but hard, soft, but unyielding as she gripped it, making him groan.
"Stop complaining," she said.
"Yes! Thank you, mother."
"You like having your mother on her knees in front of you, opening her mouth like this, ready to swallow your piece of meat?" She did as she said, breathing on him, seeing it twitch.
"Yes, mother," he answered.
"I used to do this for your father, but when he was finished, he always was too tired to do anything else." Taking him around the spongy head, she squeezed him again, but luckily for him he held his breath. "We won't have that problem, will we?"
"No, mother!"
"Good. Now then, where was I?"
Taking him inside of her mouth, she enjoyed the smooth mouthfeel of cock, the sensations of lubricated tissues rubbing against each other. He filled her up almost completely, but deep down inside she was used to it, and she was in control this time. Releasing him, she nibbled at the side, before licking across the whole length of it. Burying her face at the base of his balls, she reminded herself to thank whoever did the grooming around this place. It was so smooth, so cuddly. He smelled good too, not something her son would have thought about on his own.
Already, as his precum trickled down her throat, she wanted more of the same taste. It was intoxicating. A part of her wanted to have him next to several glasses of white wine, so she could taste him properly. She could strap him to the table, sit down in front of it. Taking him in her mouth, she looked up at him. He had turned his face away.
"Hey!" she snapped. "Look at me! And you should thank me too, for what I'm doing to you."
His eyes had a shocked quality to them, as if he was facing headlights. "Thank you... mother... It feels... so... nice."
"You are sensitive, after cumming so much?"
"Yes, mother..."
"Yes, especially when I do like this."
She took his swollen head in her hand, and holding it tight she used her other hand to jack him off. He was bucking on the table, making the glassware beat. She opened her eyes as he came between her fingers, smearing them with thick drops of cum. At the same time, she was dissatisfied. She'd wanted to taste him down her throat. Because of that she used her fingers to scoop his juices to her mouth, and she made him feel her disappointment in him. She even scratched his most sensitive spot with her fingernails. They were really sharp. He should know that.
When he was clean and panting with his tongue hanging out of his mouth, she locked him with her eyes again. "If you do that one more time, I will get the riding crop and use it on you. Is that clear?"
"Yes, mother."
"You're really sensitive now?"
"Yes, mother."
"That's a pity, because I have to do it again. You understand that, right? I wanted something, and you took it from me. I could have you fired for that."
Opening his eyes in horror, he tried to keep still and silent as she took his cock in her mouth again. Not wanting to sit on the floor forever she took him down her throat, not caring if she hurt him. She just wanted to have the real feeling of it, having him spurt down her throat. As he came with a shout of pain, she gulped, and when she pulled her face away, she flushed and saw a tendril of cum hanging between her lips and the almost red cockhead. He locked raw. He trembled when she kissed him on the tip.
"Good boy," she whispered to it.
Taking in deep breaths, he shook with his entire body. He could barely control his legs on either side of her. He had torn the table cloth away from the back-end. It was completely covered in his sweat. Even that smelled delicious, like a well-trained animal.
"Thank you, mother," he finally managed to say.
"You haven't thanked me enough yet," she said as she stood up, and taking a sip of water from a glass bottle she walked to the bed. It was as comfortable as everything else in here. She could feel her body sink down into the soft layers as she placed herself in the middle of it. Reaching out with her hands, she beckoned to him.
Standing up, he almost fell over. But he steadied himself, and understanding as she spread her legs he crawled over her, and putting his cock to her screaming pussy he readied himself. He--
"Aren't you going to ask me for it?"
"Please, can I fuck you, mother?"
"Yes, my little whore. You can fuck me now."
Feeling herself getting filled up from the inside she let loose a fresh sound of pleasure. He jerked with the terrible sensation of it, he couldn't help himself, but she didn't care. She let him do the work as she put her arms above her head, twirling her fingers through her thick locks of hair. She felt beautiful.
"Don't forget to say thank you," she said between moans.
"Thank you, mother," he grunted as he pushed himself into her. "Thank you, mother."
It was wonderful, feeling that golden rod cock pounding her with the virility of a young man, hearing him thank her for it, and every time she felt him cum in her she screamed even louder, to remind him of why he was doing this. She could feel his desperate eyes all over her face and body, his hands as they grasped handfuls of flesh from her thighs. He would give her bruises, she knew. She didn't mind as she felt herself come again, an orgasm that made it flash in front of her eyes, pleasure forming into light.
After a while she was too tired to keep it up, and she could almost feel sorry for him as he continued to move his hips against her, continued to whisper, "Thank you, mommy, thank you, mommy..." He was barely even awake anymore.
Folding her legs away from him, she felt her years again, and a new sense of bitterness. He had left a pain deep inside of her, and even though it felt good, felt better than anything, she remembered times when it hadn't felt that good, that pain. His father hadn't thanked her as he pounded her tight pussy.
Raising herself from the sweat covered bed she walked over to the closet. She held her breath before it, and as she opened it, she immediately knew what she was looking for. She'd seen it earlier, a rack of strap-on dildos. Holding them, one by one, she finally decided which one was most familiar. Taking it back to the bed she compared it to his still solid cock. It was almost identical, but black instead of throbbing red.
All the time he had followed her with his tired eyes. He wasn't surprised anymore. His eyes where open holes she could pour herself down into.
"Prepare yourself," she said, standing above him.
Walking to the closet, he dug out some lube, a big bottle of it, and putting it on a dildo he started to fuck himself, groaning with new pleasure as he did so. His cock started to leak with precum. She walked over to him, made him stop, just to taste him once again.
When he was ready, she pointed at the table. "Move it to the window," she said.
"Yes, mother," he said, and his muscles started to shift as he dragged the table from one end of the room to the other. He positioned it as close to the window as it could go, and when he was done, he stopped, captivated by the view. Or maybe it was the sight of his mother coming up behind him, black strap-on dangling between her legs. One final sense of normality flared up deep inside his eyes, before it died, and he hugged the table.
Kicking his legs away, she positioned herself, and feeling his soft skin she took a firm grip and pushed herself against his lubricated opening. She enjoyed every feeling of it, every sound as he thought he had prepared himself enough but now felt his inside getting invaded by her cock. He whimpered beneath her, scratched at the table.
"This is what it feels like," she said. "You like that? You like getting fucked by a big cock?"
"Yes... ungh... mother..."
As she dragged herself out completely, he pulled in a lungful of air. Then she really started to fuck him, fuck him like he had done her earlier, like his father had done years ago. She took a hold of his hair and shoved his face against the window, feeling the soft form of him bending to her will.
"Do you see that building over there?" she asked as she pushed into him again. "Do you recognize it?"
Waiting for him to answer, or not, she grabbed him by the hips. She fucked him with long, hard thrusts deep inside of him. Then she grabbed him by the hair again, continuing to fuck him in a more delicate way. Every sound he made was controlled by her.
"That's my office you see over there," she said. "I want you to remember that, every time you go into this room. Every time you see that light over there, remember that I could be watching you, see your pretty little head in a firm grip... Like this."
Not stopping, she fucked him until he started to sob. He left tears on the window as she smashed him against it once more. Finally, as he couldn't lift his head anymore, she untied her kimono, let her breasts move freely. She rubbed at one of her nipples in synch with her fucking.
"And maybe, just maybe, you will see a dark square over there. Then it could be me next time."
She didn't reach an orgasm, not really, but she felt the trembling of one as she fell on top of him, crushing him against the table, her breasts grinding against his goosebumps. She looked at their faces in the window. She was the one smiling. He was the one with pain written all over, every normal feeling forced aside by the pounding of her cock. Pushing herself off him she left him to get cleaned up. Her time was almost up. One hour and forty-five minutes were a lot of time, but... She looked back at him.... not nearly enough.
He was still on the table when she walked out of the bathroom, fully dressed. She started to wonder if she had done something wrong as she went into the elevator. Forcing herself to acknowledge that they probably had a security camera she prepared herself for getting yelled at as the doors slowly opened to the lobby. But the receptionist simply looked at her with a smile on her lovely lips. And maybe with just a hint of blush.
"Everything to your satisfaction, Madam?" she asked.
"Yes," Anna-Lisa said. "Everything was."
"I'm glad to hear it." The secretary started to tap away at her computer. Reviews maybe? When she was done, she turned her smiling, and definitely blushing, face towards her again, saying, "Do you want to give a tip to the young man in question?"
Staring at her, Anna-Lisa suddenly remembered what day it was.
"Yes," she said. "I have something. A gift. Could I send it over?"
"Why, of course!" the receptionist said. "And how delightful. You really are pleased then?"
"Yes. Very."
Turning away from the reception desk Anna-Lisa walked to the front door. She turned her collar up against the wind.
Lifting her hand, she hailed a taxi. She had to get back to her office. But it hadn't been inconvenient, not at all. In fact, she felt rejuvenated. Maybe, just a thought, she would get in touch with them again, ask them about VIP-prices.
And maybe for her secretary too. That would be a nice Christmas present.
As she thought about it, smiling, the first fall of snow twirled down the dark buildings above her.