by Ella Hilton
How long? I searched my memory of all the women since the divorce, and suddenly there she was. "Amy? It's Amy, right?"
This time, when she looked at me, the shock was undeniable. "Yes, I'm Amy. And you are?"
Good come back. Plausible deniability.
I stuck out my hand. "Peter, Peter Johnson. What's it been, like nine years?" Her hand with red fingernails took mine and I squeezed it warmly.
"I'm not sure. For the life of me, I don't remember ever meeting you."
Everything came back to me then. We'd met in a bar and talked for hours, both of us got pretty drunk. Finally, near closing time, she confessed that I reminded her of her fiancee. The guy had died in a car accident a month before their wedding date. I had been unsympathetic and only wanted to get into her pants. I vaguely remember excusing myself to go to the bathroom and then leaving. At least I didn't take advantage of her loss. I felt good about that. After my ugly divorce, I only had a couple of scruples left. "We met at Jacob's Pub, years ago. You were going through a tough time and I was rude to you. I left without saying good-bye."
Amy pulled her hand away, anxiety etched on her face.
Dropping four cans of tomato soup into her cart, she said, "Oh yeah. I vaguely remember a guy that left. Are you the guy who went to the men's room and never came back?"
"I'm afraid so. I apologize."
"Apology accepted." She pushed her cart briskly down the aisle.
I rattled along behind. "Let me make it up to you. Let me buy you dinner."
"That's okay. It's water long under the bridge."
"Please? I want to. I'm not the same man I was back then. I had just gotten divorced and was mad at all women. You deserved better. I should've been more compassionate. Let me make it up to you."
Her pace slowed and then stopped. I pulled along side and studied her face of indecision. "Please?"
Amy's jaw tightened and she turned her brown eyes to me. "Okay. I'll meet you next Friday, at 7:00pm. Where?"
"At Barney's. Do you know where Barney's is?"
"Yes, I do. Nice place," she said. "I'll see you then, Peter."
"Thank you, Amy."
* * * * * * *
Friday finally arrived. I looked at my watch, 7:15. Amy was late. But then, she was late the last time. I sipped my water and waited.
At 7:30, when I was about to give up hope, she arrived, looking flushed and stunning in a black cocktail dress.
I stood up and held her chair. Tonight she wore perfume. "Amy, you look beautiful. I love your perfume."
Her blush deepened. "Thank you."
"So, what have you been doing all these years?"
The conversation flowed smoothly, right through the after dinner coffee. Barney's had a nice bar, so we adjourned to a dark booth and ordered a bottle of Chablis. Suddenly awkward with each other, we sipped and watched the crowd.
"I want you to know, I won't be leaving without saying goodbye tonight. It's been great seeing you again."
Amy smiled at me. She had a glowing smile, but it didn't appear often enough.
The way she looked at me made my face warm and I felt a twinge of jealousy. "Do I still remind you of your fiancee? What was his name?"
Her eyes dulled. She looked away, and said flatly, "Mark, his name was Mark."
When it was obvious she wasn't going to answer the rest of my question, I said, "I met someone a few weeks ago. A lovely woman, but she'd been hurt by some tragedy in her life. The scars have kept her sad and lonely for a long time. You remind me of her, a little."
The color drained from Amy's face. She remained silent and distant.
"I'm afraid I might've hurt her even more. She came to me, looking for comfort, and I may have made matters worse. I wish I knew how to find her. I'd like to know that she's okay."
Amy sipped her wine, and asked, "What was her name?"
"Jasmine."
"Well, Peter," She placed a hand over mine, "If you were kind and considerate, like you were tonight, I'm sure Jasmine has no regrets. As for me, what happened to Mark is in the past. I've moved on, by putting one foot in front of the other. Getting through one day and then the next. Eventually, the pain dulled. But, there are still times... times when I miss him so much; I would do anything to have him back, just for an hour."
I took her hand between mine. "He must've been a great guy. It must've felt wonderful to be loved so deeply. I wish I could find that."
She looked at me through flooded eyes. "Don't we all."
A few minutes later, Amy said, "I think we should go."
I paid the bill, collected our coats and we walked outside.
Before I could say anything, Amy said, "Where's your car?"
I pointed. "The green Pontiac, over there."
She hooked her arm around mine and we walked to the passenger side. I opened the door and she got in. When I got in behind the wheel, I asked, "Where to?"
Amy leaned against the door and looked at me. "Tell me something Peter. This friend of yours, this Jasmine, if you could find her what would you say?"
"Boy, that's a tough one." I gripped the wheel and stared hard into the night. "I don't know her very well, but I had a sense that she was a beautiful person. I would tell her that, and I'd tell her she's smart, fascinating and very sexy. She told me men don't find her attractive, but I'd tell her she's got it all wrong. I'd tell her I'd very much like to know her better."
Amy's voice was breathy and small when she finally spoke. "Wow, she made quite an impression on you. Too bad you can't get in touch with her."
I looked at her shadowed face. "It's just as well. I don't think she lives... around here."
"So, you're not going to pursue her?"
"No. I don't think she wants to be found."
Amy sat up and touched my cheek. "Her loss."
"I don't know about that." I gave her a weak smile, and added, "But I do know this. Meeting you again has meant a lot to me. I feel like I've righted a wrong. Everything I should've said to Jasmine, I'd like to say to you instead. Thank you for having dinner with me tonight, Amy."
"It was my pleasure." Her hand floated to my thigh. "... And Peter, I'd very much like to know you better, too."
I leaned toward her and our lips met over the center console. The kiss felt so wonderfully familiar and so much better without the fabric barrier. We rested our foreheads together and I ran my fingers through her hair. "That was nice."
"Yes, it was. I've missed kissing and... well, you know."
I massaged the back of her neck, and said, "I do know, and I'd like to change that, for both of us."
Amy rubbed her forehead against mine and sighed. Seconds later, she raised her head, and whispered, "I don't know why we shouldn't just change things tonight. Do you?"
"I can't think of one good reason not to," I said, and kissed her nose.
My apartment was just minutes away. The ride passed in comfortable silence. It felt like we were two old friends that decided to become lovers, only our strange history made the new intimacy more provocative.
As I unlocked my apartment door, I said, "Sorry about the mess. I wasn't expecting company."
She smiled warmly. "So, I get to see the real Peter Johnson the very first time?"
"I'm afraid so." I turned on the lights and picked up a few things, while Amy wandered around and got acquainted with my lack of style.
Graciously, she said, "Not bad, Pete. The place looks very comfortable," and sat down on the couch.
The way she kept saying my name made me think she was practicing, so 'Mark' wouldn't slip out inadvertently. She was trying. I liked that.
"Amy, would you like something to drink?"
"No thank you, Peter. I'm fine." She patted the cushion. "Sit with me?"
I did, and put my arm around her. She laid her head on my shoulder and put her hand on my leg. I kissed the side of her face and her fingers drew slow circles on the inside o
f my thigh.
It was Deja vu, only this time with Amy naked and noisy. And this time, she moaned, "Peter."
Not Yet, Pet
Fortunately the train was not crowded. She felt nervous being seen in public in the outfit she had chosen with confidence in the privacy of her bedroom. She was used to dressing like this for her Master behind closed doors. Today, however, her Master had given her the task of meeting him in the city after his business seminar ended. The task included dressing the way her Master liked. The sluttier, the better.
Her red mini-skirt seemed so much shorter now that other people were around and she had not realised her black leather coat would flap open around her thigh area so much when she walked, revealing her long black boots and fishnet stockings, in contrast to the conservative business suits worn by the men and women she passed on the street. It was still only mid-afternoon.
She reached the designated meeting place at the top of a set of escalators. Her mobile phone rang. Master had a command for her.
"I'm on the escalator now, Pet. You will see a woman in blue coming up first. After she has left, open your coat so I can see what you are wearing."
She did as commanded, feeling exposed. What if someone else came along first and saw her? But no one else came and when her Master appeared, he looked her up and down with a mixture of approval and lust.
"Well, don't you look like a nasty hooker?" he smiled. "Follow me, Pet."
Half a block away was a luxury hotel. Her Master knew someone who worked there, who had unofficially provided him with a key pass to the leisure facilities area in case he ever wished to use the pool or gym.
As they stepped into an elevator, a pleasant stirring began between her legs. She could feel herself becoming wet with anticipation. She wondered where exactly he was going to take her. The pool area was deserted but there was no guarantee it would stay that way. Guests could appear at any moment.
She followed as her Master went to a door marked "shower" and entered. Like a public bathroom, it had a lock indicating vacant or engaged. There was a marble sink with vanity mirror and a full-length mirror opposite. The shower bay at the end of the small room had a wooden bench opposite.
As soon as the door was locked, her Master pushed her against the tiled wall and devoured her lips and mouth with deep kisses. She moaned, her legs beginning to feel weak as he dominated her.
She peeled off her black crossover top, revealing a cupless lacy bra underneath. Her Master discovered the tiny matching g-string as he ran his hands up her thighs and under her skirt. She helped her Master undress, as was part of her duties as a good Pet. Seeing him naked always aroused her. Every inch of his body excited her.
Her Master lifted her and sat her on the edge of the sink. He bent down and buried his head between her thighs, his tongue flicking over her clitoris before delving inside her. She threw her head back and wanted to scream with pleasure as he tongue-fucked her, but she knew she had to remain fairly quiet in case anyone was outside. This was one of the challenges she realised her Master would have planned in his choice of location. Today she would not hear his usual taunting command "Scream your head off, bitch, you're mine to enjoy!"
Her Master stood up just as she was on the verge of climaxing. "No, Pet, you mustn't come yet."
Suddenly he thrust his hard shaft deep inside her. She gasped at the intensity of his entry. His thrusts were hard but after only a few, he stopped and withdrew from her. He smiled at her obvious confusion.
Lifting her off the sink, he then sat there himself. She knew what to do. Her tongue went to work, first on the area under his balls, then gradually moving upwards until she was massaging his balls in her mouth, sucking gently and rolling them with her tongue. Her Master's moans were her reward. How she loved to please him.
Her tongue moved up his erect penis. When she reached the top she could taste his precum, another reward. His hands moved to the back of her head and pushed her onto him until his entire length was in her mouth. She suckled hungrily, wishing he would explode so she could drink him. But again, he stopped the act before completion and again her frustrated whimper amused him.
He turned her to face the vanity mirror. She held onto the edges of the sink as he penetrated his full length into her from behind. She loved mirrors. Watching him thrust in and out of her wet pussy was a huge turn-on for them both. His lips were warm on her shoulder, then his teeth took over and in a few seconds a large purple mark appeared. This was an ownership mark. She must at all times have such a mark left by him somewhere on her body to show she belonged to him.
She found it increasingly difficult to stay quiet. Her Master enjoyed pinching her nipples as hard as possible, often with clamps that made her scream with the mixture of pain and pleasure. Today it was just his fingers but they were strong and she wanted to cry out. She knew that he would be very much aware of that fact.
Her pussy was so wet with excitement that his penis slipped out several times. Each time required punishment and her Master spanked her ass cheeks hard, stinging and leaving red marks. Again the urge to cry out was almost unbearable. She whimpered quietly. Her Master loved to hear her whimper. His thrusts became harder and deeper.
Her Master also loved to tease. "I'm going to be mean now, my sluttish Pet," he whispered.
Yet again he stopped and withdrew just when she was certain they would both explode with enormous orgasms. She was panting with desire as her Master took her into the shower area. He sat on the bench and pulled her onto his lap, facing her away from him and impaling her cunt on his erection. His hand reached around and stroked her swollen clitoris as she rode him. Surely he would let her orgasm now, she thought. But no, he had more plans to torment her and deny her the ultimate pleasure.
"Now I'm going to be mean again, Pet. Go and sit in the shower, my little slut, with your legs apart. I want to watch you get yourself off. But still you must not come."
She did as commanded, with a feeling of sexual humiliation at having to sit in a public shower fingering herself instead of feeling her Master's incredible penis fucking her. Her Master watched his submissive Pet perform her task, fondling her own breasts and hard nipples, stroking her clitoris and inserting her fingers in her own pussy. He took her discarded g-string and used it to stroke his hard cock as he watched.
After what seemed like an eternity to her, she was finally permitted to stand up and return to the sink. She pressed her hands against the wall as her Master took her from behind. The mirrors were on either side of them now and they took advantage of the full-length one to watch their bodies move together and merge as the fucking became more frenzied.
She ground her hips backwards onto his shaft for maximum depth. She knew her Master loved it when she squirmed that way. She also knew it was hard for him to resist exploding. Surely she had waited long enough. She had been a good Pet, doing everything he wanted. Didn't she deserve to feel his hot cum inside her now?
She knew her Master enjoyed hearing her talk dirty. "Please," she begged him. "Fuck me like a whore. I love being your slut. Fill your Pet's cunt. Explode in me, Master, please!"
This sent them both over the edge. Finally she felt what she had longed for all day. Her Master's cum was pumping into her in hot, sticky waves. Her own orgasm pumped every last drop from him.
They were both drained and exhausted. Her Master sat on the bench again. She longed to rest too, but she knew her duty as a Pet was not finished. She kneeled before him and gently licked and sucked his penis, cleaning their combined juices from him. She loved the way they tasted together. When he was sufficiently clean, she was able to catch her breath for a few moments before dressing. After all, it was getting late and her Master had to pick up his wife from her office when she finished work.
"Does your wife like mirrors?" she asked coyly.
"Only occasionally," her Master responded with a smirk. "She's not as slutty as you, my Pet."
"You made me everything
I am, Master," she reminded him.
"I know," he responded, "and I am most pleased with my creation. A nasty slut after my own heart."
In a few minutes they were back outside. Back to the real world. They parted politely, like acquaintances who had merely bumped into each other. They went their separate ways. But only until next time. She smiled and touched her shoulder where his mark was. She belonged to him.
A Late Awakening
It's late in the evening and I awake from sleep. You are not here next to me-out of town on business. My hands and mind miss you next to me. I lay back and close my eyes, trying to re construct your body in my mind- the soft curves of your breasts and belly, the taste of your skin- and my hands begin to wander my own body, my cock stiffening as the images flicker through my mind.
