This is an adult story, with adult themes containing
graphic sex. If you find this kind of thing offensive,
please go elsewhere noe.
This is also a flash story... 500 words or less.
Please do not post elsewhere without permission of the
author.
©2002 Sara H
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WAITING
by Sara H
Categories: D/s, f-solo
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Phyllis stood outside the door to The Outlook. Brandon was
late again. If the rest of the night proved typical, he
would arrive in about an hour, and in still another hour
feign sleepiness in order to go out later with someone who
had caught his eye.
She wondered why she put up with it. She would have
sneered at a woman in her position six months ago. But here
she was.
She walked down to the streetlight beside the alley,
looking across the street at the empty windows. Again.
She stopped as she heard a noise and looked down the
dangerous corridor masked in shadows. She stepped around
the side of the building, letting her eyes adjust to the
dim light.
"Mistress," came a voice, "Please let me lick your Holy
Altar!"
The response was deep and earthy and sent a shiver up
Phyllis' spine. "Louder, pet. Mean it. Beg. Worship."
"MISTRESS YOUR CUNTWHORE BEGS YOU TO ALLOW HER TO LICK
YOUR WELLSPRING OF JOY!"
Phyllis was electrified. She could just make them out now.
One woman, her body a silhouette of lust and surrender,
kneeling before another shadow, a glorious vision of dark
heat. She'd heard of such things in fantasies, but this...
this was real.
"My what?" said the Mistress, teasing her distraught
disciple.
"YOUR LUSCIOUS CUNT, MISTRESS!"
"You may, pet. One lick. for me as you do."
Phyllis reached into her and felt the smooth
wetness of her own hot cunt, the juices coating her fingers
as her legs shook. She knew she could be seen, but it only
made her hotter. The impulse to participate was like heady
wine, making her drunk with her own need.
As the slavegirl screamed out in climax, Phyllis felt her
own orgasm rip through her like a hot wind from the Sahara,
her mouth whimpering as she fought to hold back her
answering moan of passion.
She fell against the wall, sliding down. Her legs splayed
open as she pressed hard against her clit, willing her own
surrender to continue until the buzz in her head covered
everything around her with yellow, melting wax.
When she became aware, the women were gone. She looked
around quickly. No one had seen. She stood and adjusted her
clothes nervously.
Thinking herself safe, she walked back to the entrance of
the club as a car pulled up. She ignored it.
The rear window slid down, and a now familiar earthy voice
said, "You'll do well. Get in."
She stood in indecision for a moment. She was on the edge
of something new... something beyond dangerous, from which
knew she might never come back.
Brandon's voice beside her tripped her into awareness.
"Sorry I'm late, sweetie. Late night at work. God, am I
tired."
"No problem, Brandon," said Phyllis, reaching for the car
door. "I have someone else to wait on, now."
Brandon stood, and then, shrugging, turned away and walked
slowly into the club.
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Thanks for reading! Please send any comments to:
sara_h2020@yahoo.com
I'd love to know what you think...
Sara
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