She
was a woman of distinction and a fine palate for the more refined
things in life. She liked her heels high, her drinks overpriced and her
outings to be lavish. She was that woman from NYC who didn’t even see
you when you walked by. Her brim was low and her shades were dark and
why the fuck would she care about you?
You,
you were an honest hard working, family loving, baseball obsessed,
normal Norman. You had just left the grocers. A wife’s to do list on
your smartphone. Milk, bread, eggs and tampons. Thank God that was on
your list. Three under 5 was plenty. Hell, thats why you work so hard.
You like your beer cold and cheap, your company with a bit of sleaze
and your kids out of your hair. Hey, you’re tired. We get it.
But
on a dime She turned around as if to retrieve a forgotten necessity too
important to buy another of. You were flagging down a cab. She walked
past you and you pointedly felt the intoxicating smell of her fill your
pants. Fleeting moment. Fleeting thought. The cab hauls ass up to the
curb you slid across the cracked leather seat with your wares in your
lap.
“Take us to …..“ Said a crisp articulate hollow voice that trailed off at the end to a murmur.
There she was. In your cab. Take us?
Looking around the cab it was easy to tell “us” was you and her. The
cab takes off in the direction dictated by the classy broad.
“What’s in your sack?”
“Milk....Bread.....T-t-tampons......”
“Oh!
Splendid....I don’t think I have bread at home.” You start to get the
feeling that she doesn’t care where you were going or why you have
tampons or even who you are. She placed her feather like fingers over
your high thigh and and with an unexpected strength she squeezed you and
asked. “ You don’t mind if I have some of your bread with my supper, do
you?”
Since
words weren’t flowing freely and your brain was not making the
connections as to why this beautiful creature was talking to you, you
only shook your head no.
She
made small talk with you and with the cab driver all the while gripping
higher and higher on your thigh. Her smells and whimsical motions
making you more and more drunk on her.
The
cab slowed down and you looked out the dirty window. Upper East
Side......She brought you to her house no doubt. She paid the cab
driver and she reached across you, turning her swollen low cut dress
into your face, to open the door.
She said something but the words come out muffled.
“Hahah!
Darling....After you!” You obediently did as you were asked and she
took the grocery bag from your hand, left it in the car, and took out
the bread leaving behind the rest. She lead you into the very tall
building and into the elevator. When the doors slid closed she didn’t
say a word. She just looked at you. She smiled. You smiled. You knew
what was about to happen. A brief thought grazed your mind about your
wife and kids and quickly your desires for the unknown took over. The
elevator opened and an older somewhat balding man in a nice shirt and a
black apron greeted you and your glorious host that has left you
speechless.
“Peter,
how was your day?” Genuinely seeming to give a shit about her butler’s
going ons she turns her attention from you to him.
“I’ve had a swell day. I see you brought supper.” He smiled and gestured toward her hand. She gave him the loaf of light bread.
“Yes,
something new, I thought, would be a nice treat for us....” White bread
was ‘new’ for this lady...Wow...she had it good, you thought. “I’ll be
taking our friend to the guest quarters to prepare him for dinner.”
“Very
good. I shall prepare the kitchen to your liking.” She smiled sweetly
and gently kissed Peter’s cheek in thanks and still with your hand in
her’s she took you to the guest room.
She asked you to take off your clothes and lay them on the tiled floor. She went into the bathroom and started the shower.
“Come,
love....I’d like you to be nice a clean...wash away the...day. I’d
like to watch to make sure you clean every part just right....If you
don’t mind.” You don’t mind. Her smell...that scent...anything she’d ask
you’d do. You stepped into the 9 spout shower room and she handed you a
cloth with a sterile smelling soap. She sat on a stool and instructed
you where to wash. She wanted you to wash your legs 3 times. Her sweet
honest darling face grinned and you knew she was dragging things out to
make this come to an erotic perfect ending that was sure to be the best
thing you’ve ever had.
She
told you that you did a very good job. You stepped out of the shower
with all your clean massive glory standing before her. She walked
around you inspecting and smelling you. Her breath on your neck, the
soft pillow of lips kissed your skin...almost as if to savor or taste
you.
The door opened with no warning and you quickly cover your hard on and shouted “What the hell!?”
“Peter!
You’ve startled our guest.” She pouted her lips then turned to you and
smiled. “No matter, it’s time for dinner and I’m starving. Are things
ready for cooking?” Still beaming at you and your clean skin she ushered
you to the kitchen. Again you are taken with her angelic presence,
disregarding the manservant.
“Should
I get dressed?” You found your tongue.. She seemed to have lost her’s
since she doesn’t respond. Then it happened too fast.
She
pressed you against the wall and kissed you deep and hard holding your
arms out and firmly held her body to yours. Your eyes closed tight and
you grind against her pressure. Her warm mouth and tiny figure wrapped
up around you and you lose track of the world around you. She steps back
and looks at you. You have been restrained by Peter. Your wrists and
ankles skillfully bound to the wall with leather belts. Suddenly her
affect changed and she rinsed her mouth out with Listerine and spit it
into the sink with a look of disgust.
“Very
nicely done, my sweet.” Praising Peter’s work she walks to the counter
picks up a power tool and hands it to Peter. You scream and they
giggle.
“Shall we have thigh tonight?”
“Yes, love, I was thinking we could use the bread and make sandwiches.”
“Yes my lady, Wonderbread....a fine choice to complement cheap meat.”
Peter
tightly wrapped a tourniquet around your upper thigh. You’re screaming
that you have a family and a job and a life. She’s not there anymore.
It’s just you and Peter and the saw which is now in to your muscle.
Taking your leg to the counter Peter feeds it into a deli meat slicer
and sliced about a pound of leg. Quickly he fried each piece on the
Viking stovetop and seasoned the meat with a bit of this and a bit of
that.
“Thank
you for bringing the bread to supper. So generous of you.” After giving
you thanks, Peter walks through the swinging door into the dining room
where She smiled and waved to you. She shouted out to you through the
still swinging door.
“See you later! I’m sure you are just devine! I’ll let you know!! Good night love!”
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