I met a hot older woman at a point in her life where she was melting down, personally and financially. Instead of being a white knight, I discovered a very dark part of myself.
Leaning back into the leather sofa, I became the center of waves of conflicting emotions. Some of them were more visceral than others. Guilt. Shame. Fear (for my soul). And LUST. With respect to the waves of lust, I had never felt anything so strong. Each wave brought a throb and slight tick to my raging cock. I was grateful for the angle I was sitting at; at least my cock was free to throb down the leg of my boxers, instead of ripping through my pants.
She was sitting right across from me. Only a dusty glass coffee table separated us, rooted in an old brown shag carpet. The air was scented with wisps of her clove smoke, simultaneously sweet and pungent. She was slightly hunched forward, revealing the perfect cleavage of her CCC breasts. She was 45. She looked 35. And my cock loved it.
But more than just her appearance, it appeared my cock loved her desperation. And her misery. At the time, I did not understand it. But I had no choice, but to go with it.
"I just cant make ends meet. And I will NOT be homeless!"
I didn't know who she was trying to convince, me or herself. I found I didn't care. "What's the mortgage on this place? $1,500 a month?" I looked at the cracking drywall, unsure why anyone would be so attached to such a shitty, small place.
"It's $2,200." Sheepishly, she formed the words.
"But the rent for the room is only $800"
"I've been using my savings for the rest. I've basically run out, which is why I can't offer you a real lease. In about 9 months, the bank will foreclose. I'm already behind, but while they're getting their check they won't foreclose yet. And I don't have anywhere to go, and no place will rent to me because I don't have an income.."
Now, a little about myself. At the time, I was 28. I had been a member of the bar since I was 24. $2,200 a month didn't seem like more than I could afford, not that anyone would spend anywhere near that to own this place. But the despair which had laced her recitation of the number gave me an edge I had never seen in myself before, one that I didn't know I had. The logical thing to do was to just walk away. But I found that I didn't want to. I decided to see where this could go.
"I mean, I am definitely looking for a place to stay, but I don't know why I would want to live in a place being foreclosed on, even if it would buy you a few more months"
Seeing the first tear well up was almost more than I could bear in that moment. I briefly wondered how a person's life could bring them to such a juncture. From our email exchange I already knew that she had been a mortgage broker, and was left devastated by the 2008 crash. But I wondered where her family could be, and how someone reaches their 40's with no one to care for, and no one to care for them. Not on this day, but I would later find out that her husband left her after she cheated. There was a part of me that really felt bad. But that part was in the small minority.
"Then why you might as well leave." The edge was sharper, the desperation thicker in her voice.
A seemingly small decision, I had no idea how it would change my life. "No, I need a place fast." Dropping the check on the coffee table, and I got up to leave, but felt a familiar pressure building in my balls, "I'll see you soon."
When I first moved in, it was like any other place. We mostly tried to not get in each other's way, and quickly established a routine. I went to work all day, and the gym afterwards. When I came home, I took a long shower in the hall bathroom, and then retired to my room. She was usually in the living room, a drink of tequila on her coffee table, and wisps of clove smoke above her head. She dressed plainly, in jeans and a t-shirt, but after a few drinks she would change into her robe and night gown. She seemed to be an alcoholic, steadily drinking from whenever she woke up. By the wee hours of the morning her speech was always slurred and her gait was wobbly. I remember wondering if there was sexual tension, or if it was just my own wishful thinking. So I always played it cool. I never let on how badly I wanted to fuck her, but I did.
About two months in, I had a shit day at work. 14 hour days get old fast.
Getting home late, I knew she would be drunk. More annoyed than anything else, I was hoping I wouldn't have to see anyone or interact with anyone.
Walking in, I could already tell she was already tipsy. "Hi ****!" She was so excited to see me that I almost felt bad mumbling something incoherent and heading for the shower. She had no interaction with anyone except me, and her invalid dad in hospice care 500 miles away. And she only spoke to him about once a month. Still, I didn't have the patience for conversation, and headed off to the bathroom.
The hot water felt amazing washing over my body. My hand immediately dropped to my swelling chubby. But just as I was starting to hit my stroke, my blackberry went off. 14 hr day, and now I can't even rub one out in peace. To say I was frustrated would be an understatement.
A wet hand reaching for my blackberry, I skimmed the email; a new apartment complex I had applied to finally had an opening. I was approved, and could move in at the end of the month. That was....4 days away? Not much on advance notice, eh?
Going back to my relaxation, I began to imagine her perfect milf lips on cock, her perfect milf tits hanging as she slurped. I almost came from the thought alone. Then inspiration struck.
She was chatting away, as only the lonely and buzzed can do. From everything to nothing, she just kept yapping. I wasn't listening anymore, as she hand been gently stroking my arm throughout her soliloquy. I was thinking about my situation.
The way I saw it, she needed me. I didn't need her. I could move out in mere days, and she would be foreclosed on. Even if I didn't move out for the 9 months it was going to take the bank to foreclose, it was looking like she was going to be homeless then. So...I decided to test my theory. I just cut her off mid sentence.
"I'll be able to move out in a week or so."
She stopped mid syllable and looked as if I slapped her. I could see the fight against tears start a moment later. I won't describe the indignant cavalier responses melting into increasingly desperate and angry phrases. Then came the crying. Perfect.
"You don't have to be homeless"
She stopped at that to look up. I knelt down gently, and picked her up, legs over one arm, and back cradled by the other. Walking her back to her bedroom, she must have made a choice. I could see terror, but she didn't stop me. My raging erection straining against my shorts, the walk down the carpeted hallway seemed to take forever, and I was drinking it in.
Laying her down on the bed, face down, I reached under her to unbutton her jeans. They were snug around her rounded ass, but they gave and came off. I flipped her over long enough to pull her shirt over her head. And then remove her bra, her perfectly shaped CCC cups were now exposed to me, small alabaster hills, with the hints of veins; pink silver dollar sized areolas, each capped with pencil erase. She was too perfect, crying and naked.
Looking into her tearing eyes was almost more than I could stand. I wanted to go slow, and relish every moment, but I had a point to make. Besides, I reveled in the idea of knowing that this would become her daily life. I just needed her to know it too.
My raging erection, restrained only by boxers, was rubbing the soft inside of her thigh. I whispered in her ear, almost panting the words in my lust; "This time, we won't worry about restraints, or anything fancy. This time is just about your submission to me. While I live here, I own you. The rules will come later, but right now it's enough for you to simply know you're owned. I'll always make sure the mortgage is paid, and you have enough money for food, and your Tequila. You won't ever have to do any real work, but you will understand that you exist for my pleasure."
I waited for her to say something, positioning my cock at the head of her perfect little snatch, short trimmed brown hair teasing my precum down my shaft. Only a slight rasp in her inhale met me. I grabbed her neck. "Say I own you, cum slut"
"You own me."
She screamed as I tried to plunge all of the way in. She was soaked, but I only made it halfway, before repositioning for the next thrust. Feeling her lips squeeze down my shaft, gripping the soft skin on my taint was almost too much. My mouth found her pink nipple, and I squeezed it against my top teeth with my tongue.
After a dozen thrusts, my body convulsed and my world exploded, as I spasmed my relief deeply into her. It was only then that I noticed she had squirted all over the comforter. The full implications of our mixing cum didn't immediately sink in, as I lay on top of her, drifting into sleep.
Waking up the next morning, I was still naked and surprised to find myself still in her bed. She lay next to me, still fast asleep. Her chestnut hair framing her squaring head. Her torso lay above the covers, her perfect pink nipples erect in the morning chill.
Not knowing why I was being stealthy, I slowly extricated myself from her huge California king. The 70s esque brown shag muffled my steps.
Finding my jeans, and sliding them on, I knew what I had to do. An adult toy store was no more than 10 mins away, and even that seemed too far. Walking the aisles, I wasn't sure exactly what I was looking for, until I found them: a simple collar and a set of bed restraints. The collar had two chains, each ending in a nipple clamp. I couldn't wait to see them around her nipples. The restraints were simple, but effective; heavy cords meant to run under the bed, with each end terminating in a nylon cuff. They wouldn't cut off circulation, but they weren't for show. There was no getting out of them.
Stopping only once more, at a local supermarket, I headed home.
When I got home about an hour later, she was clothed in jeans and a t-shirt, hair freshly washed, sitting in her chair. The bag in my hand was a nonde*********** black plastic shopping bag. I made eye contact with her, but I purposefully didn't speak to her. She stared back, watching me head for her room, not uttering a sound.
It took me long enough to set up the restraint system that I assume she must have known what I was doing. I laid out the collar on the bed, my cock raging against my jeans. I walked past her again, still in silence, out the front door and headed for the trunk of my car. Grabbing the groceries, I headed back inside. Once in, I locked the door behind me. It's audible click caused my mouth to begin to water, and caused my cock a sense of vertigo.
Making sure her eyes were fixed on me, I restocked her bar with two large bottles of Tequila silver, her favorite. In the refrigerator went all manner of food, some of her favorites (she had mentioned these in previous Tequila fueled monologues). We officially had fuel for the weekend.
Once done, I walked to the big picture window directly in front of her, and closed the shades. Turning around, the sight of her was mesmerizing. She really was this desperate. This was going to work. Without a word, I unceremoniously pulled on my belt, and my already baggy jeans fell to the floor. I wasn't wearing boxers.
I bent over slightly, braking eye contact only to gawk at cleavage. Without looking up, I gently gripped her throat, and pulled until she stood. Once she was on her feet, I pulled her close, my cock flattened against her midriff.
I whispered in her ear as I picked her up "today we have to discuss the rules."
It was only a few short steps to the bedroom, and I placed her on the bed, face up this time. I never broke eye contact while undressing her, and I started to ad lib. In hindsight, it occurs to me that for someone who ***********s his words thoroughly, it was surprising that I didn't really have a plan. I had a blank check, and I knew it. I was speaking from the cock.
"I'm going to just take over the mortgage payment. You've got 9 years left, and I don't know if I'll want to do this that long, but for now, just give me the bills. In return, I get a slave. A beautiful MILF slave."
She nodded. And even that slight exercise of free will was enough to set me off.
"I don't think you understand me." Grabbing her by the hair, I flipped her over. Closing the cuffs around her hands, my cock between her shoulder blades, she moaned slightly, her tiny torso being crushed under my weight. Then, backing up, I separated her ass cheeks, so her pussy was gaping ever so slightly. That perfect pink hole that I was about to destroy. This time I did notice the moisture, dripping from her perfect lips.
I plunged my cock in as hard as I could, my pelvis pile driving down. Now, I'm not porn star big, but I have been blessed. Especially in width. And my 28 yr old frame hadnt lost all of the muscle tacked on over 4 years of collegiate rugby. Even though I had a baby face, I also had broad shoulders and wide thighs. I was nothing if not strong. Her scream turned my dick into something that could cut diamond.
As I began to jackhammer, I couldn't get over how wet she was. Her first gushing orgasm came on the 4th or 5th stroke, and by the 30th, she was screaming incoherently. I thrusted as hard as I could, ramming my cock into her drenched cunt, my pelvis driving into her prone ass cheeks, sending ripples from every hammer blow. She was pure grace, and I was fucking her silly.
Eventually, she began to whimper, soreness overriding pleasure. I pounded harder, driven to fury by her pain. I was drinking in every delicious syllable, and when she began to plead it was too much. "Please, oh God, please no. Please no more. Oh God, no"
I pushed forward as far as I could, and grabbed her hips pulling them backward. So deeply inside of her that my balls were being pushed backwards by her labia, I finally came inside her. Laying on top of her back, my cock soaking in her, I caught my breath.
I pulled out with a slurp, and spun her around. Freeing the cuffs from the cables but leaving them tied to each other, I pulled her to the floor, kneeling. I sat with my legs hanging off the bed, one on each side of her.
"Suck me hard again"
Without a word, she slowly licked the mixed cum off of my shaft, and took my head in her mouth. Reaching for my balls with her cuffed hands, she gently but firmly pushed them back, making all of the skin taught. My head swelling, she slowly worked it over with her tongue, the slightest vacuum in her mouth. Unbelievably it was only minutes until I was emptying my balls again, this time into her stomach. Each pulse soaked her tongue and the back of her throat with my now watery cum.
Spent, and floating on endorphins, I wanted to drift off to sleep. But there was a point to make. Without a word I stood, now towering over her. Reaching for her collar, I gently guided her to her feet. She was crying, and an ocean ran down her legs. Laying her on the bed, I restrained her spread eagle, this time face up. I lay on top of her, gently tonguing at her nipples and the underside of her perfect breasts. Sliding the collar around her neck, I started talking to my captive, savoring the feel of her naked body under mine. "It doesn't have to be so bad. You wont have to work. Its not like you have any friends. I cant make you happy, but you'll be taken care of, as long as you remember one thing. I own you like I bought you. Because I am, I'm doing just that. Buying you. You wont ever tell me no, to anything."
She was breathing heavy, and nodded her submission again.
Just laying on her, I could feel my cock begin to fill with blood. I whispered gently in her ear some of the things which were floating through my mind. "I'm putting your clothes in storage. You'll be wearing your collar and your robe when I get home, and nothing else." Slipping into her, with felt like being coated in warm, wet silk. Feeling as if we were permanently joined at the pelvis, I began to slowly move in and out as I spoke.
"If you want or need anything, you ask me." At the end of every sentence, I pushed a little harder inside her. "The only thing you need to worry about is keeping my balls completely empty. The arrangement ends when I don't think you're worth the few thousand a month that you're going to cost me."
I could feel her beginning to tighten around me, shallow moans mixing with her panting. For some reason I was almost irked at the fact that she so clearly enjoyed this; young and still unaware of the beauty of a true submissive, I wanted to feel like I was extracting a price from her. But the sheer ecstasy my conquest left me beyond the petty. This was by far the greatest thing that had ever happened in my life. What I didn't yet understand was that the same was true for her.
Her contractions pushed me over the edge yet again; the sweet ache of satiation radiating out from my glans as what few remaining drops of cum I had rocketed into her soaked cunt.