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Submissive I- Seducing Mrs. Johnson

Carol Johnson walked across the stage carrying some of the props they were using in the senior class play. The performances were in two weeks and the rehearsals were already in high gear. Most of the cast and crew had already left for the evening, leaving Carol and a handful of others to do the final cleanup. Among those who stayed were her daughter, Kristin, and Kristin’s best friend, Becky.

A widow of ten years, Carol Johnson had raised a son and a daughter while working full time as Human Resources Manager for a local business. Robert, her son, was 20 and a sophomore at a college across the state. Kristin was 18 and a senior at the local high school. Raising two teenagers and maintaining a full time job had been quite an effort, but despite her busy schedule, she’d always found time to support her children’s activities. Helping out this year’s play was one of the ways she supported her daughter.

“Mrs. Johnson, could you help me run through the scene I’m having trouble with?”

Carol turned to see Becky standing behind her. “Of course, Becky,” she said. “Let me just tell Kristin to have a seat until we’re through.”

“If you don’t mind, I really need a lot of help. I’m sure Billy would be happy to give her a ride home.” Billy, being one of the neighbor’s kids, was well known to Carol.

“Sure. That’d be fine,” Carol said.

“Thanks, Mrs. Johnson. I’ll go tell them. Then I’ll meet you in the production conference room.”

The conference room was a good-sized room, the focal point of which was a large heavy duty conference table and chairs. Carol sat down in one of the chairs and waited. After a bit, Becky arrived.

“Sorry it took so long. I made sure everyone else was gone and double-checked the locks.”

“Okay. Let’s get started,” Carol responded.

The scene Becky needed help with was one that culminated with her kissing the male lead. “I don’t really feel attracted to him,” Becky explained. “It’s hard enough to kiss someone in front of people, let alone someone you’re not attracted to.”

“I know what you mean,” Carol replied. “Would it help to run through the scene a few times?”

“It couldn’t hurt.”

Carol stood up and leaned against the conference table. In the scene, the boy would be leaning against the kitchen counter. The conference table served as a good substitute. They ran through the scene from the beginning. When they reached the kiss, Becky leaned up against the table beside Mrs. Johnson, leaned in and kissed her lightly and quickly on the lips.

“Come on, Becky. You can do better than that,” Carol said. “Here, let me show you.”

She switched places with Becky, leaned in and kissed her. Her kiss was longer and more active than Becky’s, but still not a romantic kiss. “See. You can have a kiss between people that looks real, yet is still antiseptic. Okay? You try.”

They switched places again, only this time when Becky leaned in she wrapped her arms around the older woman and brought her already open lips to Carol’s. Carol, unprepared for the aggressiveness of the move, reacted instinctively, opening her mouth to accept the tongue, even as she felt the rising and falling of the young woman’s breasts pressing against her own.

The intensity of the kiss caught Carol completely off guard. She hadn’t been with anyone in the 10 years since her husband died and her body was reminding her of what she’d been missing. Someone was holding her tightly and kissing her passionately. And damn it, her body liked it.

When they broke the kiss, Carol looked at Becky. “Wow,” she said. “That was much better. Maybe too good. Next time, try not to be quite that passionate.”

“Okay,” Becky said. “How about this?”

Before she could react Carol felt Becky’s left hand slide around her back and her right hand slip onto her ribs just below the left breast. Then, before she even knew it had happened, she found her mouth open and her tongue dancing with the tongue of her daughter’s best friend.

She knew instinctively that she should break off the kiss, but knowing and doing were two different things, and try as she might, she just couldn’t find the strength to tear herself away. It was Becky that finally broke the kiss several moments later.

“Was that better?” Becky asked.

With her mind still in a bit of a daze, the best answer Carol could manage was a weak nod of the head.

In spite of her hazy state of mind, in the deep recesses of her mind, a sane, rational thought tried to grab Carol’s attention. She should leave now, she heard it say. She shouldn’t be allowing a student less than half her age to be doing this to her, it protested. Especially not her daughter’s best friend.

But the thought vanished when Becky leaned in again, wrapped her arms around her and pulled her close. And then, when the young tormentor hesitated to gaze into her eyes, Carol opened her mouth in eager anticipation.

Her eyes drifted Gürsel Escort closed as their lips came together. Her head was spinning. She knew they were no longer rehearsing, she doubted if they ever really were. But in the scheme of things, that didn’t really matter. The simple fact was that she liked what the girl was doing to her, and despite how wrong it was, she did not want her to stop.

She reached out to return Becky’s embrace, running her fingers through her hair as she arched her back to press their bodies together, even as Becky’s hand was sliding over her left breast and squeezing it . . . rubbing it . . . pinching it. And as she groaned into the young woman’s mouth, they both knew her surrender was complete.

When Becky broke the kiss several moments later and slid her hand from her breast, Carol eased her eyes open. She watched as her conqueror’s hand began easing the zipper of her fleece sweater slowly downward, but she offered no resistance. The young woman was going to take her, of that there was no longer a doubt. And she was going to let her. And a shiver shot down her spine.

With the top now completely unzipped, Becky returned her hand to Carol’s chest, playing alternately with each bra encased breast, a knowing smile creeping across her lips when her best friend’s mother arched her head back and closed her eyes. And when she removed her hand from the bra and took hold of the fleece, the captive woman sat obediently, offering no resistance as the young temptress eased the collar back over her shoulders and partially down her arms. But Becky stopped there, leaving the older woman’s arms still in the fleece’s sleeves, with the body of the fleece connecting the arms behind her back. And then she took hold of her shoulders and gently eased her backwards until she lay on her fleece, effectively pinning her arms at her sides.

As Carol, with her upper body now effectively clad in bra only, lay on the table looking up at Becky, a shiver shot down her spine. She felt excited. She felt alive. But most of all, she felt horny — very, very horny.

She lay silently as Becky produced a pair of scissors from somewhere unseen and watched as she lowered the scissors to her bra, cutting first between the cups, and then each shoulder strap. Then, after she discarded the scissors, Carol arched her back, allowing her conqueror to pull the bra out from under her.

Becky rose slowly, her eyes never straying from the half-naked woman laid out beneath her. She paused briefly, then reached for Carol’s pants and, with painstaking slowness, unbuckled the belt, unsnapped the jeans and lowered the zipper.

Carol bit her lower lip and closed her eyes as the hands moved from the zipper to her sides, sliding first upwards until they reached the sides of her breasts, and then down until they reached the top of her jeans. And then, when the thumbs finally hooked the jeans and panties and began sliding them over her hips, she moaned like a wanton little slut.

Becky eased the pants slowly down the older woman’s legs, not stopping until they reached her shoes. She slipped the shoes from her feet, dropping them to the floor before allowing the pants to resume their journey and slide the rest of the way off her legs.

And just like that, there she was, a 40 year old woman lying naked on the table, calves and feet dangling over the edge, arms trapped within her fleece and unable to move, as an 18 year old girl — her daughter’s best friend — stood above her, fully dressed. And she was so damn hot she could feel her juices flowing.

“You have a beautiful body, Mrs. Johnson. You must work hard to keep it that way.” Becky put her hands on her knees and spread them wide, allowing her a nice view of her pussy. “And your pussy looks good enough to eat,” she added. “But we’ll get to that later.” She then pushed the knees back together and moved around the table until she was next to Carol’s breasts.

Reaching out, she took the naked breasts in her hands and began massaging them, pushing them together, mashing them into her body. She took the nipples between her fingers and thumbs and pulled until Carol was moaning and squirming atop the table. Then the young woman gave her head a brief nod — time to take things to the next level.

“You sure were easy tonight, slut,” Becky said, continuing her tit play.

Carol lifted her head from the table, hesitated, and then shook it from side to side. “I’m not a slut,” she whispered.

Becky hesitated ever so briefly as a look of mock surprise covered her face, then gave her nipples a firm squeeze and twisted them roughly to the side, causing a screech to fly from Carol’s throat.

“Are you disagreeing with me?” she challenged. “‘Cause if you are, I can leave right now.”

Carol shook her head violently. “No. I mean yes. I mean . . . I don’t know,” she cried out, confused. Then, with some effort, she focused her eyes on Becky’s. “Please,” she whispered desperately. “Don’t Escort Gürsel leave.”

Becky took a deep, exaggerated breath, then reached back and dipped her finger into Carol’s pussy, rubbing it around as Carol moaned and arched her pelvis to allow easier access. Then she withdrew the pussy soaked finger and brought it to Carol’s mouth.

“Suck it off,” she demanded.

Mrs. Johnson looked first at Becky, and then at the finger before her. Then, tentatively, she opened her mouth and leaned forward, allowing the finger to slip between her lips.

Looking up at Becky while she cleaned off her own juices, she began to realize just how much she enjoyed being controlled by the younger woman. Submissive by nature, she’d found it tough being a single parent, not to mention a businesswoman. But right here, right now, under Becky’s tutoring, she could feel all the false fronts slowly falling by the wayside.

“So, you are a slut, aren’t you?” Becky queried.

This time, there was no argument, no debate, only a very brief hesitation as Carol slid her mouth off the finger. “Yes,” she whispered tentatively. “I guess I am.”

“But you’re not just any slut,” Becky continued, pressing the subject. “You’re my slut.” Another hesitation. “Isn’t that so?”

This time Carol’s hesitation was significant as the reality of the game –if that’s what you’d call it — sunk in. She swallowed the lump in her throat as goosebumps broke out across her naked body. Finally, with more than a little trepidation, she managed a slight nod of the head and a very throaty “Yes, I am.”

Becky shook her head slowly from side to side. “As your mistress,” Becky countered, pausing briefly to let her new title sink in, “I think it’s appropriate that I be addressed with a proper amount of respect.” Another pause.

“From now on . . . slut . . . when you talk to me, you are to address me as either Miss Becky or Ma’am. Do you understand?”

Carol hesitated, looking pleadingly into her lover’s eyes.

“I can still leave,” Becky challenged when an acknowledgement was not immediately forthcoming..

“No, Miss Becky,” came the suddenly urgent reply. “Please don’t leave.”

“Then let’s try it one more time. Are you, or are you not my slut?

“Yes, Ma’am. I am.”

Becky smiled, then patted her face lightly like she’d pet her dog. “Very good, slut. You learn quickly. Now for your reward.” And with that she released her grip on her nipples and began tracing her fingers around the meat of her breasts.

Carol squirmed lustfully under Becky’s ministrations, watching as her new mistress lowered her mouth to her tits. She closed her eyes, the moaning noises coming unbidden from her mouth as she felt teeth nibbling on first one breast, then the other. She felt the right hand vacate its breast and begin wandering slowly over her body, stopping to tease her belly button, then tracing the curve of her hips and drawing fingernails slowly up the insides of her thighs. Instinctively, she spread her legs wide, allowing better access to her already wet pussy.

At last the fingers reached her clit, gently stroking her love button and sending shivers throughout her body. “Oh yes, Miss Becky,” Carol groaned. “I think . . . I’m gonna . . . I’m gonna . . . oh shit!” And an orgasm unlike any she’d ever felt came from out of nowhere, rocking her from the tips of her toes to the very ends of her hair, the entrapment of her arms by her sides somehow making it all the more powerful.

Slowly, she regained her sense of presence. With her breathing still labored, she opened her eyes. She saw Becky sitting next to her in one of the conference chairs.

“I’ve never seen anyone come so quick or so hard, slut,” Becky said to her. “You must really like what I’m doing to you.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” she responded. “I do.”

With a soft smile, Becky leaned forward, lowering her mouth to Carol’s, slipping her tongue through her parted lips. Without the use of her arms, it was easy for her to tease Carol — kissing for a bit, then withdrawing to leave the older woman with an open mouth and a wanting tongue, before slowly returning to tease her some more.

In a very short time, Carol was again squirming on the table, the sexual tension once more building inside her. Becky stood up and moved to the end of the table by her feet, effectively withdrawing all human contact from her slut. Desperate for her touch, Carol moaned helplessly.

She didn’t have to wait long before the younger woman grabbed hold of her ankles, raised her legs perpendicular to the table, and spread them wide. “You have a very pretty pussy, slut,” Becky said.

Carol looked up at her mistress. She was totally helpless; her arms a prisoner in her own fleece, and her womanhood spread wide open. She watched as her mistress examined her prize. “Would you like me to kiss it?”

“Yes, Miss Becky. Please kiss my pussy.”

She watched as Becky lowered her head towards her. Gürsel Escort Bayan Electricity shot through her body as she felt a woman’s tongue on her pussy for the first time since high school. She moaned, shaking her head from side to side as Becky kissed and tongued her clit, before driving her tongue deep into her dripping cunt. She even arched her hips upward to make herself more available.

But then she gasped in despair as her mistress withdrew her tongue and rose to her feet, lowering her feet so they now rested on the edge of the table, her knees in the air.

“I think you’re being selfish, slut,” Becky said. “I think it’s time for you to pleasure me. You’d like that, wouldn’t you slut?”

Carol quickly perked up. “Yes, Ma’am, I’d love to pleasure you.” She hesitated momentarily. “But how can I pleasure you if I can’t move my arms?”

“You won’t need your arms,” Becky responded as she began unbuttoning her blouse, pausing at the last button briefly, teasingly, before slipping the blouse from her shoulders. Then she unbuckled her jeans and slid them over her hips. For the moment, she left her panties on.

Carol watched anxiously as the young beauty undressed before her. She wanted desperately to help her, to caress her body, to fondle her beautiful, young breasts. But instead, she could only watch helplessly as Becky reached behind herself, unhooked her bra, and let it fall slowly to the floor, before turning her back and removing her panties, bending at the waist so her ass and pussy were clearly visible,

Standing up, she turned to face her slut. Now they were both naked. While Becky’s tits were slightly larger than Carol’s, they were equally as firm. Her pussy was neatly trimmed, and she was tan all over. She reached for her own breasts and massaged them in front of Carol. “Do you like my tits, slut?” she asked.

“Yes, Ma’am. They’re lovely.” Then she got brave. “May I kiss them?” she asked tentatively.

“Yes, slut, I think I’d like that,” she said, bringing a smile to Carol’s face.

Standing next to the table, Becky bent over, lowering her beautiful, full orbs towards Mrs. Johnson’s mouth as Carol raised her head and strained to reach the treats dangling before her. But Becky kept them just out of her reach.

“Please, Miss Becky,” Carol pleaded, now hot with desire for the young breasts before her. “Please let me suck them.”

Again Becky lowered her breasts, only this time she dropped them all the way to Carol’s mouth. The smile on her face was unmistakable as the prone woman went for them like a mad woman, licking them, kissing them, nibbling on the nipples, chasing the dangling orbs like a woman possessed.

After a moment Becky stood up, removing the treat from her slut’s mouth. “Now I have another treat for my horny little slut.”

She lifted one knee onto the conference table, and then the other. Carefully, she swung her right knee over Carol’s head, positioning her pussy directly over Mrs. Johnson’s mouth, leaving the naked body of her slut stretched out behind her. And then she slowly lowered herself to Carol’s mouth so the only thing her slut could see was her pussy, tummy, tits, and face.

Desperate to please her new mistress, Carol needed no encouragement. She dove right into her pussy, licking her clit, nibbling on her pussy lips and digging her tongue deeply into her cunt. It wasn’t long before she could feel her lover reacting to her attentions, moaning softly and gyrating her hips above her.

And then Carol froze as she felt the touch of hands on her knees even she watched both of Becky’s hands massaging her own tits above her. And with panic stricken eyes, she looked up at her mistress.

“Relax my little slut. Relax and enjoy it. She won’t do you any harm.”

As her mistress smiled reassuringly at her, Carol tried to relax. She could tell by the touch of the hands as they slid down the inside of her thighs that it was indeed a woman’s touch. But she couldn’t see her, and somehow, that added to the intensity of her feelings.

As the hands slowly worked their way towards her womanhood, Carol tried to refocus her attention on her mistress’s pussy. She nibbled on the clit above her, even as two fingers were slipping into her dripping pussy.

But almost as soon as they entered her pussy, the fingers slipped back out and moved to her dark hole, where first one finger probed into it’s depths — in and out, round and round, gradually loosening the tight entrance — only to be joined a moment later by a second finger while Carol moaned in wanton lust and drove her tongue deep into her mistress’s pussy.

Her unknown lover’s tongue entered the very pussy her fingers had only moments before vacated, lapping at the flowing juices while the fingers worked her dark hole, pumping in and out of her ass with a frenzy, even as the tongue continued its attack on her womanhood, licking at her pussy and flicking across her clit to send wave after wave of pleasure to the very depths of her soul.

Somehow, Carol managed to continue eating her mistress while her unknown lover devoured her pussy. Her reward came when Becky cried out above her, her body shaking wildly as her orgasm struck home, while at nearly the same instant, Carol’s own orgasm exploded within her.

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