My meeting ended mid-afternoon, leaving me plenty of time to drive to my hotel. An old manor house now converted into an extremely comfortable four-star hotel set in its riverside grounds, including several acres of grass and woodlands that were home to a sizable population of deer.
I took a leisurely bath before changing into a dark grey silk blouse, black leather skirt, grey thigh high stockings and black heels before going out for a well-deserved libation.
Seated at a window table in the bar, I watched the shadows lengthen as dusk fell across the estate. Deer were foraging along the treeline. I had a signed contract in my briefcase, and I had made money, serious money that afternoon. I was content with my lot, apart from being a little horny.
I'd always found that success at work fuelled my need for fun in the bedroom. It was as if my cheque book was connected to my cunt, if you'll excuse the vulgarity.
I'd just signaled the waiter for another dry martini when she walked in.
It was the dress that first caught my eye, just slightly off white with a Nordic design across the bust. It clung to her curvy figure in all the right places.
Cashmere or merino wool, maybe some exotic blend, but the result was delightful. She wore pale saffron stockings, which bore a matching Nordic design. Light brown knee boots completed the look.
Anyway, I watched as she ordered a drink; Gin and tonic and then I caught her eye as she looked around for an empty table. As I often traveled alone, it was a dilemma I knew all too well. You can't take a large table, and you don't want to sit alone giving the wrong signal and getting hit on all evening.
I subtly gestured to the empty club chair across from me, and with a smile, she moved to take it.
"Evening, I will if you don't mind."
"Please be my guest, I'm Veronique, and this window gives you a most delightful view of the grounds."
I watched her elegant hand as she carefully placed her drink on the coaster provided—long, slim fingers, nails that were moderately long but beautifully shaped and painted.
An antique gold filigree bracelet adorned her wrist. Like the dress, t was a tasteful and restrained display of wealth.
She introduced herself as Margaret Dunning-Holt and offered that she was in the area scouting settings for an upcoming book she was illustrating.
I have to say that we rather hit it off. Conversation flowed easily over drinks, and then Margaret suggested that we share a table for dinner.
Our waiter readily agreed to the change, and as he moved to speak with the Maître d', Margaret firmly gripped my fingers and whispered, "Look, look out of the window. Quickly!"
I turned to see a beautiful Hind leading her two fawns across the grass below our window.
Ears pricked, she quickly led her charges back into the shadows. It was a fleeting glimpse of nature at its best.
Margaret and I slowly released our breath, and I don't think either of us had been conscious of holding it and only then did we realise that my hand was still in hers.
Slowly her hand withdrew, but I could see that her cheeks had taken on a flushed hue, and two distinctly nipple shaped protrusions were now evident through that soft, clingy dress.
The dress emphasised large round breasts. Either she was braless, like me, or had exceptionally large nipples for them to be so evident through the knit.
My breasts are conical, large for their shape and topped with wide brown areola. I knew that my nipples would be obvious. They seem to be permanently erect, hence my passion for silk blouses.
Silk feels so good against an engorged nipple and showcases them delightfully.
Eventually, we were moved through to the dining room, to a quiet corner table.
The food was as expected, delicious, then again, there was a Michelin star at the main entrance of the dining room.
I engineered several opportunities to touch my new friend, a brush of the hand here, a touching of fingers there. Every time I was rewarded by a colouring of her cheeks and the reappearance of those perky nipples.
It was as we finished our coffee and moved toward the snifters of Brandy that I made my intentions more obvious.
After confirming that the remaining diners were engrossed in their conversations, I eased one of my heels off and allowed my foot to rub up the front of her boot. The leather felt soft and smooth, even through my stocking.
Margaret's only response was to blush even further. The colour now spread to her neck whilst her nipples continued to strain against her dress.
I persisted; this time, my toes brushed her knee, catching the hem of her dress.
Margaret quickly swallowed almost all her Brandy before suggesting we order more.
I let my foot continue playing with her knee whilst watching the battle of emotions taking place on Margaret's face.
The waiter returned with our Brandy, and I moved forward in my chair, ostensibly to sign the tab, but in reality, it allowed my foot to slip under the hem of Margaret's dress and caress her inner thigh.
Margaret groaned aloud as her body shivered. I saw her knuckles turn white as she gripped her glass.
"Should we take these with us and relax in my suite?" I offered with a reassuring smile.
"Yes. That would be lovely." Margaret's voice had become distinctly shaky.
As soon as the lift doors closed, I turned to my dining companion. I have to admit to being extremely aroused by her somewhat timid response to my advances, yet there were obvious signs of interest.
What happened next took my breath away. I turned, and she pounced, pushing me up against the wood-paneled walls. Her full soft lips sought out my own as her hand moved to my ass, squeezing t through my skirt.
"I want those gorgeous breasts in my mouth," she whispered in my ear.
My heart raced as my body flooded with adrenaline. I looked again at those soft brown eyes that had mesmerised me throughout dinner to see a glint of steel. This kitten was a tiger. What I had taken as signs of timidity was actually evidence of barely contained arousal. I had hit the jackpot.
Quickly we moved down the corridor, passing under the elaborate chandelier to reach my suite.
The heavy wooden door was still closing as we locked lips again. I cannot claim much in the way of foreplay. It was just an onslaught of hands and tongues. I remember my knee forcing its way between Margaret's thighs as her hands tugged my skirt upward, her nails scratching the soft skin above my stocking tops.
Many minutes passed until, finally breathless and desperate for more, we stepped apart and looked at each other.
I stood sipping my Brandy as Margaret slowly unfastened her dress, allowing it to slip down her body to crumple on the floor. There was no lingerie to block my view. Those fine full breasts sat firm, topped by enormous brown nipples.
Silent, we stood, savouring the situation. My eyes drank in the sight before me; those full firm breasts with those mouth-watering nipples, Margaret's soft curvy sexy body, no longer that of a youngster but still sexy as hell.
My eyes followed the slight curve of her belly to the trimmed patch of dark hair between her thighs. It did little to hide her slick, swollen lips.
In response, Margaret stood hands on hips, those saffron stockings contrasting with her dusky skin as if to challenge me to join her.
I nodded to a nearby chair. She sat, hooked one leg over the arm, wantonly displaying herself to me.
With slow deliberation, I placed my Brandy on a low table before turning back to face her.
I locked eyes with her and held her gaze as I slowly unbuttoned my blouse. The silk against my aching rigid nubs was sweet torture, and I swallowed my moans of pleasure.
I had started this, I was the predator, yet now I was in danger of becoming the prey.
Margaret was desperate to see my bare breasts. It was written all over her face.
I drew her desperation out, randomly selecting buttons to release, allowing glimpses of my firm conical mounds but no more.
When there was just the middle button left, I moved to unfasten my skirt.
Margaret was still wearing her spike-heeled knee boots, and so I kept my pumps on. The four-inch heels defined my calves and ass.
My skirt joined her dress on the floor with a wiggle, and I turned to show her my ass.
A rigorous gym regimen ensured that it was still firm, and I knew that the tiny red thong dividing my cheeks would heighten their appeal.
Straightening, I could see the smile of appreciation on her face. Popping the last button, I shrugged off the blouse and mimicked her hands-on-hips pose.
Slowly and with great exaggeration, Margaret licked her lips.
Her arousal was staining her neck pink. Satisfied that I was the dominant one again, I stepped toward her, slowly peeling off my thong.
I knew I was wet; my arousal had been building all evening.
The slither of red silk was heavily wet spotted on the front, and as it detached from my smoothly waxed pubis, several strands of thick cum adhered to it.
Stopping just short of Margaret, prone in her chair, I tossed the thing to her.
Deftly catching it, she smiled before holding it to her nose and inhaling deeply.
I held her eyes, challenging her.
With another smile and a nod, she lowered my sodden thong to her mouth and with her eyes never leaving mine; she flicked her tongue along the almost transparent front panel.
I stood watching as she licked it clean. When she was happy that she had taken all of my cum she wadded the delicate silk into a ball and popped it into her mouth.
Breathless, I watched her jaw muscles flex as she sucked on my panties.
Finally, with a taunting grin, she pulled the delicate Hundred-pound silken morsel from her mouth and said, "Delicious, now for the source."
Uncurling from the chair with almost feline grace, Margaret moved to stand before me.
Raising an arm, she placed a hand between my breasts and slowly and firmly pushed me back toward the table.
I felt the cold marble edge of the table against my calves. The table was low, situated between two chairs, and I could feel my balance shifting.
Margaret took my hand in hers and, displaying surprising strength, slowly lowered me down until that cold marble embraced me.
My shoulder nudged my discarded Brandy glass, rolling it onto the thick rug below.
Finally slipping off my pumps, Margaret gripped my ankles, pushing my legs over my head, flicking her tongue across my exposed nether lips.
Time stood still as she teased my body to the very edge of ecstasy.
Light little kisses caressed my thighs, sometimes through my stockings, sometimes on the bare soft flesh above.
Her tongue would graze my slick folds, and occasionally her nose would nudge between my lips. Cool air would blow across my wetness, and warm breath would caress me. Tongue, fingers, lips, and hair; my senses were assailed by wave after wave of differing textures and sensations.
I can still remember that hard cold marble against my back as I writhed in joyful abandon. Sobbing and screaming for release, my senses overwhelmed, as my body surrendered to its needs.
Eventually, as my heart raced and lights danced before my eyes, she slowly lowered my aching legs.
I could feel the wetness of my cum against my skin as my thighs came to lay in the juices that had poured from my core.
Margaret knelt before me, a satisfied smile on her cum smeared face.
As my breathing evened out, I leaned forward to kiss her hard on the lips. She tasted of Brandy and cum, my cum. An intoxicating, hedonistic mix.
Moving between those saffron-clad thighs, I pushed her knees apart.
Margaret leaned back, resting on her elbows. I made as if to dip my head toward her pussy. The air was heavy with sex.
I watched her eyes close in expectation, and instead of the expected kiss, she received a sharp slap across her glistening mound.
Her eyes shot open as she squealed in shock.
I smiled and slipped a finger deep between her stinging lips.
Quickly I added a second and then a third finger, filling her cunt and massaging those sensitized lips.
It took just moments for the pain to fade into deep intense pleasure. Her cries echoed from the ornate ceiling.
Margaret had taken time to break me; I did no such thing. My fingers were a blur as I fucked her.
This was just the warm-up. The main feature was waiting in the wings. Well, in truth, in the bedside drawer.
Hips bucking, face and neck red and blotchy, Margaret shuddered and moaned.
Hot, slick cum engulfed my hand as she surrendered her body to me.
Leaving my quarry prostrate upon the thick pile rug, I went to the bathroom.
Standing at the bathroom mirror, wiping sweat and cum from my face, I couldn't help a look of smug satisfaction from crossing my face. What had started as a quiet evening, dinner, and drinks for one and maybe, well, almost certainly a long hard frig had turned into a delightful encounter with a worthy lover.
I collected two bottles of cold mineral water from the minibar and offered one to her, smiling broadly. She twisted the top free before downing half the bottle in one long draught.
"Veronique, you are a skilled lover, and this is just what I wanted"
"Oh, but Margaret, we have barely started. If you would be so good as to move over here, we will continue.
She stood and moved to join me at the chair.
My hands slipped around her waist as our lips resumed our duel.
Tongues entwined, we teased each other, nails scratched and squeezed nipples, fingers raked still sensitive clits.
When I judged the time to be right, I stepped back and produced my stout feel doe. It gleamed with a black wet look and was extra thick.
I nodded toward the armchair, and with a smile, Margaret moved to lean over the back. As I had anticipated, her heeled boots ensured that her ass was at just the right height.
One end slipped between my lips with practised ease, and all those Kegel exercises would ensure that my cunt held the phallus firmly in place.
Nudging her thighs apart, I allowed the other tip to graze her lips. Already swollen with desire, they parted, allowing a trickle of shiny cum to run out and down her thigh.
"Veronique, fuck me. Fuck me now!" Margaret was almost panting as she spoke. Without further delay, I pushed my hips forward, spearing her wet fruit with the thick phallus.
Usually, I would start slowly, allowing my lover to adjust to the intrusion, but Margaret was already rocking her hips, eager for more.
On my second stroke, I bottomed out, feeling my cunt against her loins as I filled her. I knew the thick black dildo would be stretching her.
There we were on a dark moonless night. I could hear the wind outside our window, even over Margaret's ever-increasing whimpering and moaning.
Looking toward the dark square that was our window, I could see my image reflected as I drove the dildo home.
I thrust with long, firm strokes, lifting onto my toes every so often to change the angle, to hit all her sensitive spots.
I have never seen a woman get so wet. Cum was literally flowing from her cunt with every out stroke.
Margaret was putty in my hands. I had regained my dominance. This was adding to my arousal.
That thick bulb was hard against my cunt walls and looking down, I could see my hardened nipples as my breasts bounced.
I had no time to toy with my prey. I needed to take her before my body betrayed me with its own needs.
My thighs slapped against her ass as I sought her surrender. Margaret had cum several times already that evening, and she was a worthy lover.
Finally, her moaning pitched to a scream as her body became rigid with spasms of pleasure.
My dominance confirmed I allowed myself to cum. Pulling the bulb from my cunt I sprayed my juices over the bare ass before me.