~Mischief~ Pick Me Up

It was a Saturday night, and with strains of Bach flowing in the background, the woman readied herself. A long soak in the tub, fragranced with essential oils…a smooth shave all around. Special care given to her spiky red hair…much shorter than when she was younger…but it suited her. Makeup…more than she was used to…being somewhat of a natural beauty, but this night, she wanted to gild the lily; and she did…with smoky eyes and slick crimson lips. She was looking for attention, for a change. Dabs of musky scent anointed all her pulse points, wafting subtly with her every move. She slipped silky black stockings up her thighs, pulling their black lace tops into place, and slid her feet into exotic pumps. She laced herself into a black satin corset, which pushed her breasts up into delectable half-moons. Over this, the woman pulled on a slim, black pencil skirt, and wrapped a soft, warm russet colored pashmina shawl…this moved her from looking slutty to sexy and alluring…but she could move back the other direction with ease. Just before leaving the house, she turned to give herself a once-over in the mirror. Not bad, she thought, for a 40 year-old mother. The years and child bearing had rounded her curves into lushness, but her skin was youthful and dewy…and her eyes glowed with the anticipation of a man’s touch. For she knew that tonight, she would not end up alone…

She drove herself to a popular restaurant in the city…she had never been there herself, but it has a reputation for being classy, having good food, and including a bar that attracted quality patrons after work. As she drove, she alternated between savoring the thrill of her daring tonight, and shaking her head and chuckling at the sheer cliché of it all. Putting her self-doubt to rest, she exited the car and entered the restaurant. She strode smoothly into the bar, leaving no time for the maître d to approach her saying, “Table for one, ma’am?” Ugh…that would be just too much. She seated herself at a bar table near the wall, ordered a dirty martini with extra olives (that was ballsy enough for a woman on the prowl, wasn’t it?) and scanned the room. A number of couples sat closely, discussing the events of the day, or perhaps the possibilities of the evening. She was pleased to note that her presence had attracted the attention of more than one of the bar’s solitary male patrons. One of them raised his glad at her…GAWD, she thought, he can’t be out of his twenties yet! And while she momentarily considered the stamina and energy of a young man, she wasn’t a “cougar”! (Was she?) Ok, keep looking.

Her eyes continued to travel around the room…briefly meeting those of the male patrons, then moving on. Then she saw him. Damn…he was a tall drink of water for sure…well over 6 feet. Goatee…nice. And no child this one…his hair and beard were shot through with silver. Their eyes locked and one of *those* moments happened. She knew he felt it too because his eyebrows raised, and then he nodded his head as if agreeing with an inner monologue. She felt a smooth, warm feeling of attraction begin in the pit of her stomach…then radiate south. Oh yes, she thought…he’s the one. (“What are you thinking?” Her brain argued with her. “STFU,” she told her brain, “I need this,” and then shut it down…allowing the more primitive hindbrain to guide her from that point on). The man was not even at the table when she realized that her nipples were hardening, and that she was growing damp under her black lace boy shorts. “Excuse me Miss,” his voice finally reached her…”May I join you?” Deep and rich was that voice, and warm…as warm as the thighs that she was pressing together under the table. She licked her lips…realizing that she appeared wanton but by this point in time, she knew that she would have no tolerance for small talk.

Her breath was almost coming in pants as she caught his scent…manly. God, I can’t stand it, she thought…please don’t ask to buy me a drink…I can’t wait that long. She felt her fingers clenching into fists and then unclenching as she longed to wind them into his shirt and drag him to her…right here in the middle of the classy bar, she was ready to pounce! Mustering all her courage…knowing that she faced the prospect of rejection…she took a deep breath, leaned forward and breathed out the words…”I NEED…” Then her voice trailed off. His eyes widened as realization dawned, and then without hesitation, he tossed some bills on the table and held his hand out to her. Trembling, legs wobbly, she took it and they exited the building, walking around the back to the dimly lit parking lot where his car was parked. Without concern for who might be looking, he backed her up to the car, running his hands up her flanks and then drawing her face to his. White heat arc’ed between the two, and their bodies melded together as their mouths devoured, their hands roaming, kneading….NEEDING. Their moans echoed in the quiet of the darkness as they ground into each other, harder faster until there had to be more. He spun her around and bent her over the hood of the car…leaning in to lick and bite her neck as his hands dragged up her skirt and his long, clever fingers easily navigated the soft lace and plunged into her already dripping, desperate pussy. She came at once, clamping her thighs around his fingers while she ground her ass into him, feeling his cock bulge and swell within his pants. His fingers continued as she came again, wave upon wave…even while she whimpered, almost begging, that she wanted him to fuck her. His mouth continued to ravage her neck and she turned her head, twisting her body to take his mouth wildly…biting his lips, sucking his tongue in and out in the rhythm that she wanted from his cock.

Somehow the reality dawned on these two adults that they might want to move the party inside…although their bodies were ready to be had right there. He spun her around and gripped her tightly to his body, both of them gasping, her body still shuddering from multiple orgasms, her juices dripping down her thighs. He began a slow, smooth stroking of her back with his long, sure fingers…somehow soothing her while not diminishing her excitement in the least. “Listen,” he whispered, as he kissed her neck, ears, and face over and over, alternately squeezing her tightly as he devoured her lips once more, “Come to my room with me.” And she knew she would…go with him…anywhere. He reached behind her and unlocked the passenger door, cupping his palm against her pussy in a possessive gesture before guiding her into the seat. She rolled her eyes and laughed softly as he moved around to the driver’s side…already feeling like Diane Lane in “Unfaithful”…that Metro ride home after the first interlude…feeling wanton, sexual, and a bit incredulous all at once. He slid into the car and before they commenced their journey, gathered her in his arms again, kissing her deeply. Somehow the tenderness, the intimacy in this kiss brought quick tears to her eyes, even as her pussy throbbed for his touch again.

She didn’t remember the drive to the fine hotel…the walk through the lobby was blurred like the camera shots in an art film. But then somehow, they were in the room. And while he sensed her excitement…the clear certainty of what was to happen next, he also felt a small piece of her reserved from him, her thumb absently stroking across the cover of her cell phone as she eased into one of the room’s wingback chairs. And then it dawned on him what was going on with her…and knew what had to be said. He came to her, folding his tall body to kneel on the floor before her, and took her hands in his as his warm, brown eyes locked with hers. “It’s okay, honey.” He said. “You can call the sitter to make sure Zoe is in bed and alright.” Her eyes flooded with tears, as she saw him turn away…her lover…her partner…her spouse, drawing back the luxurious sheets of the hotel bed…preparing for a One Night Stand…with his WIFE.

~Mischief~ Longing...for Spring

In the cool ending of the winter
I find myself yearning
For Thy warmth, oh Mistress Spring

Thy leaves and branches outreaching
Thy tender parts swelling and pinking
Thy rosy petals unfurling

Oh! To slide into Thy earthy dampness
To be ravished by Thy pale perfection
To be filled with Thy rising vibrance

Come, Come sweet Mistress
Ah, how I ache for Thee
To drink deeply from Thine invigorating pools

Let me worship at Thy lustrious altar
Let me bask in Thy radiant glory
Let my adoration usher Thee in, my glorious Spring

~ Zelle (No Domme Blonde) THE SUIT

There's just something about a man in a suit and tie that has always made me want to just say "Yes Sir!". Most of the men that I've had in my life that have worn suits, have always been authoritative figures that in some way, shape, or form, have guided me to where I needed to be. My Father, My High School Teachers, Professors in College, my Banker, my Doctor, my Accountant, my Lawyer, an ex-husband who worked in a professional field that required a suit. These were the men that told me what I 'needed' to do, and when, and why. The curfew, the homework assignment, how I should invest, what I should be eating and doing for exercise, how I should be conducting business, what dinner plans might be happening on a particular night. These were the men that would look down at me, and would respectfully scold me like an insubordinate naive little schoolgirl when I screwed up. Using their words to make me squirm in my seat and understand what was amiss or wrong. And, 'those looks', oh boy, you didn't want to get those looks. These were the men that showed me what 'consequences' for actions were. Yes, these men "in suits" were the men that controlled my life, and they left profound psychological affects on how I am today as an "alpha sub" personality.

One particular "suit" had me from the moment he came into my life not so long ago. As I waited for him at the airport that day my memory pool kicked in, allowing me to recall in great detail, our very first real time meeting. How he had made his descent down the escalator to baggage claim... I remember standing off to the side, not wanting to be seen at first, but just wanting to be a voyeur that silently, pleasurably watched from the sidelines, as one sibling might watch another opening a Christmas package. Yes, I was excited, I had a thousand questions racing through my mind, even though we'd corresponded for months, I was looking forward to meeting this person who so captivated me with his written word, and I pondered with great anticipation just what the future was going to hold.

My heart had skipped a beat at first glance, catching his tall 6'1" stature and that head of thick black hair above the other travelers. He took my breath away, and then my knees got weak and I leaned safely back on the wall behind me for support. Such silent power existed behind his ever calm demeanor. He controlled me, not with height, nor the harnessed power in his arms, nor with his strong legs.. but with his intelligence, imaginative mind, and of course,.. those piercing blue eyes that spoke volumes when needed. Of course many words were to be spoken, but none were truly needed. Many ties would bind us through the course of our time together, but none were truly needed for him to know I was not going to disobey his wishes. A customary collar would be bought, and yet.. it would still lay in it's package, unopened.. as he preferred to know I wore His around my heart.

There was a presence about him. Yes, He carried himself very well. He exuded power, class, 'order', in his pinstriped Designer suit. The man never missed one detail of finishing the total package either, much like his skill with Shibari. With him, it was either done, or it was not done, there were no excuses. Black and white, no gray areas to misconstrue. Always an impeccable shine on his Italian shoes, coordinating handkerchief neatly tucked in his lapel pocket, pants displaying unwrinkled knife-like pleats, overcoat draped neatly over his forearm, leather briefcase in one hand. His dark aviator sunglasses framed a masculine face that looked every bit his 42 years. But I remembered his words, 'its not the age, its the mileage'. Yes, he'd said many times before that he may be a bit rough around the edges, but smooth, like riverstones warn down by the passing of water. Yes, he was a sight to behold.. and He had chosen me. I wanted none other than this "Loving Dom" in the tailored suit with all of his somewhat sadistic quirks as well.

As I hold his suit reverently, running my hand down the lapel, feeling the rich texture, I imagine my soft silken skin next to ever fiber that is Him. I bury my face deep into it's folds, his scent envelopes me as I slowly inhale, selfishly taking in all the remnants left of his very own distinctive feral scent - then I unwillingly exhale, and allow that scent to escape my body, yet not my memories. All the right pheromones are released when we're together, those which drew me to him in such a primal way in the beginning, and those that have so influenced my behavior towards him now. Just thinking about it causes a tingle to find it's way to my lower extremities causing a pulsing at my clit. I close my thighs together in order to try to squelch these urges here in public. I remember his touch and my body starts to awaken and my panties now feel wet and warm. The tenderness of his magic fingers lightly tracing along my torso with a feather touch, causing a shiver down my spine. The sting of his hand on my ass that immediately heats up my sex, the look in his eyes, taking me all in, knowing he has complete control of me, as I succumb and willingly submit to him, so that we both may find the euphoria that binds us.

Startled out of my stupor by a voice saying "Miss?".. I turned, smiled, and I reluctantly handed the soiled suit over to the pleasant lady behind the desk at the Dry Cleaners. I wondered what she must have thought. There I'd been.. just seconds ago, face buried into the jacket of this suit, remembering how the day before I'd sucked his cock like a hyena in heat at the breakfast table and had accidentally dribbled cum all over his slacks. Alas, delivering his suit to the cleaners was but one of the many tasks on his list he'd asked me to complete for him while he was away on business. Now, I must hurry to Home Depot to buy accessories needed in order to complete his task #5,.. "Exploring self bondage". I'm looking forward to this one, as he's given me permission to release my inhibitions and to have a mind blowing orgasm!

~Mischief~ Let us eat CAKE!