Articles by Madeline

Madeline’s First Encounter

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I took a deep breath, my fingers hovering over the screen of my phone. The exclusive dating app, “Cougar’s Den,” gleamed back at me, its sleek interface promising adventure and indulgence. At fifty, I, Madeline, had never felt more alive. My brown hair, now streaked with silver, framed my face, and my green eyes sparkled with anticipation. I was a woman who knew what she wanted: younger men, passionate encounters, and no strings attached. The plumber incident had only whetted my appetite, and now I was ready for more.

The app was a playground for cougars like me, and I swiped with purpose, my C-cup breasts rising and falling with each exhale. I paused on a profile that made my heart skip a beat. His name was Gary, a college student with a head full of golden hair and eyes as blue as the summer sky. His bio was shy but eager: “Curious about older women. Looking for someone to show me the ropes.” I smirked, my fingers swiping right without hesitation.

Minutes later, a notification pinged. Gary had matched with me. My pulse quickened as I opened the chat. His first message was simple: “Hi, Madeline. You’re stunning.” I chuckled, typing back, “Why, thank you, Gary. You’re quite the looker yourself.” The conversation flowed easily, his youthful enthusiasm balancing my seasoned confidence. We exchanged a few messages before I suggested meeting in person. “There’s a chic little café downtown,” I wrote. “How about tomorrow afternoon?”

“I’d love to,” he replied almost instantly.

The next day, I dressed to impress. A form-fitting black dress hugged my shapely figure, and a pair of red heels added a touch of boldness. My lips were painted a deep crimson, and a hint of perfume lingered in the air. I arrived at the café early, securing a corner table where I could observe the entrance. My heart raced as I sipped my latte, anticipation building with every passing minute.

Then, he walked in. Gary was even more breathtaking in person. His golden hair fell perfectly across his forehead, and his blue eyes widened as he spotted me. He approached with a nervous smile, his lanky frame exuding youthful charm. “Madeline,” he said, his voice soft but steady. “You’re even more beautiful in person.”

“Why, thank you, Gary,” I purred, gesturing to the seat across from me. “Please, sit.”

As we talked, I could feel his gaze drifting to my cleavage, subtly exposed by the neckline of my dress. I leaned forward slightly, giving him a better view, and watched as his cheeks flushed. He was shy, but his desire was palpable. I loved that—the mix of innocence and eagerness.

“So, Gary,” I began, my voice low and sultry. “What is it about older women that intrigues you?”

He hesitated, his fingers fidgeting with the edge of his napkin. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “There’s just something about the confidence, the experience… it’s intoxicating.”

I smiled, leaning back in my chair. “Experience can be a wonderful teacher, Gary. Are you ready to learn?”

His eyes met mine, and for a moment, the café faded away. “Yes,” he whispered.

I paid the bill, standing gracefully. “Shall we?” I extended my hand, and he took it, his fingers trembling slightly. I led him to my car, a sleek black sedan that reflected his awe. As we drove to my penthouse apartment, the tension between us thickened. I could feel his eyes on me, hungry yet respectful.

Once inside, I offered him a drink, but he declined, his nerves getting the better of him. I smiled, stepping closer. “Gary,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “There’s no need to be nervous. I’m here to make you comfortable.”

He nodded, his breath coming quicker. I placed a hand on his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath his shirt. “Do you trust me?” I asked.

“Yes,” he replied without hesitation.

I stepped even closer, my body brushing against his. “Good,” I murmured, reaching up to undo the top button of his shirt. “Because I’m going to show you things you’ve only dreamed of.”

His eyes widened as I slowly unbuttoned his shirt, revealing his smooth chest. I traced my fingers along his collarbone, down to his pecs, savoring his youthful firmness. He shivered under my touch, his breath hitching as I pressed my body against his. “Madeline,” he groaned, his hands hovering at his sides, unsure where to touch me.

“It’s okay, Gary,” I whispered, guiding his hands to my hips. “Touch me. Feel how much I want you.”

He hesitated for a moment before his hands slid up my dress, his fingers grazing the lace of my thigh-high stockings. I moaned softly, pressing my lips to his neck, my breath hot against his skin. “You’re doing so well,” I murmured, nipping at his earlobe. “Now, take off my dress.”

His fingers trembled as he pulled the fabric down my shoulders, the dress pooling at my feet. I stood before him in nothing but my lingerie—a black lace bra that accentuated my C-cup breasts and matching panties that hugged my curves. His eyes devoured me, his desire undeniable.

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathed, his hands reaching out to cup my breasts.

“Thank you, Gary,” I said, stepping back slightly to undo his belt. “Now, it’s my turn to explore.”

I pushed his pants down, revealing his boxers, already tented with his arousal. I smirked, kneeling before him to trace my fingers along the outline of his cock. “You’re so hard for me,” I teased, my voice dripping with lust. “Does my older body excite you, Gary?”

“Yes,” he groaned, his hands tangling in my hair. “Please, Madeline.”

I hooked my fingers into his boxers and pulled them down, his cock springing free. It was thick and long, pulsing with need. I licked my lips, looking up at him through my lashes. “Such a beautiful cock,” I purred, wrapping my hand around his shaft. “Do you want me to taste it?”

“Yes, please,” he begged, his voice cracking.

I leaned forward, taking him into my mouth, my lips sliding down his length. He gasped, his hands gripping my shoulders as I sucked him deep, my tongue swirling around the head. I hummed, the vibrations sending shivers through him. “Fuck, Madeline,” he moaned. “That feels so good.”

I smiled around his cock, pulling back to tease the tip with my tongue. “Do you like that, Gary?” I asked, my voice husky. “Do you like my mouth on your cock?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” he panted, his hips bucking slightly.

I chuckled, taking him back into my mouth, my hand stroking the base in rhythm. I sucked him hard, my cheeks hollowing as I swallowed him down. He groaned, his fingers tightening in my hair. “Madeline, I’m close,” he warned.

“Cum for me, Gary,” I urged, quickening my pace. “Fill my mouth with your hot cum.”

He cried out, his body tensing as he erupted, his cum shooting down my throat. I swallowed greedily, milking him until he was spent. When I finally pulled back, he was trembling, his eyes glazed with pleasure.

I stood, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. “That was just the beginning, Gary,” I whispered, leading him to the bedroom. “Now, it’s my turn.”

The bedroom was dimly lit, the air thick with anticipation. I pushed him gently onto the bed, his eyes wide as I climbed on top of him. “Madeline,” he breathed, his hands roaming over my body.

“Shh,” I soothed, capturing his lips in a deep kiss. I ground my hips against his, my pussy aching for him. “I want you inside me, Gary. Now.”

He nodded, his hands guiding me as I positioned myself over his cock. I lowered myself slowly, his thickness stretching me deliciously. “Fuck,” I moaned, my head falling back as I took him all the way in. “You feel so good.”

He groaned, his hands gripping my hips as I began to ride him, my breasts bouncing with each thrust. “Madeline, you’re incredible,” he panted, his eyes dark with desire.

I smiled, leaning forward to kiss him, our bodies moving in perfect sync. I rode him harder, my pussy clenching around his cock as pleasure built within me. “Gary,” I gasped. “I’m close.”

“Cum for me, Madeline,” he urged, his hands squeezing my ass. “Let me feel you squeeze my cock.”

His words sent me over the edge. I cried out, my body shaking as I came, my pussy flooding around him. He thrust up into me, his own release following moments later, his cock pulsing deep inside me.

We lay tangled together, our breaths slowly returning to normal. I pressed a kiss to his chest, my fingers tracing lazy patterns on his skin. *”That was…” he began, his voice trailing off.

“Incredible,” I finished for him, smiling. “You were incredible, Gary.”

He blushed, pulling me closer. “Thank you for showing me… everything.”

I chuckled, running my fingers through his golden hair. “Anytime, Gary. Anytime.”

As we lay there, the city lights twinkling outside the window, I felt a deep satisfaction. Gary had been the perfect cub—eager, passionate, and utterly enchanting. But as much as I enjoyed our encounter, I knew this was just the beginning. The world of younger men was vast, and I was ready to explore every inch of it.

For now, though, I was content to savor the moment, my body still buzzing with the aftermath of our passion. Gary’s hand rested on my hip, his touch gentle and reverent. I smiled, closing my eyes, knowing that this was exactly where I was meant to be.

The night deepened, and as sleep began to pull me under, I whispered, “Goodnight, Gary.”

“Goodnight, Madeline,” he replied, his voice soft and full of wonder.

And in that moment, I knew that this was just the first chapter of many steamy adventures to come.

The Art of Control

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I sat in my dimly lit living room, a glass of red wine cradled in my hand, the fire crackling softly in the hearth. At fifty, I’d lived a life full of stories, but one chapter always seemed to creep back into my thoughts, especially on quiet nights like this. It was a time when I was young, broke, and desperate to pay my way through college. That’s when I found myself working at The Velvet Room, a seedy strip joint on the outskirts of town. It wasn’t glamorous, but it paid the bills, and I was good at it. Damn good.

My name is Madeline, and back then, I was a sight to behold. Brown hair that fell in waves down my back, green eyes that could lure a man in with just one glance, and a body that turned heads. C cup breasts, a shapely figure, and a pretty face—I knew how to use what I had. But it wasn’t just about looks. It was about the art of seduction, the dance, the way I could make a man feel like he was the only one in the room. And the lap dances? Well, let’s just say I had a talent for making them cum in their pants without ever taking off my clothes.

I took a sip of wine, the rich flavor lingering on my tongue as I let my mind drift back to those nights. The Velvet Room was a place of desperation and desire, a haven for men who wanted to forget their troubles for a little while. The air was thick with the scent of cheap cologne, cigarette smoke, and the faint tang of sweat. The stage was small, lit by neon lights that cast an eerie glow over the dancers. But it was the private rooms, tucked away in the back, where the real money was made.

I remember one particular night like it was yesterday. It was a Thursday, slow by most standards, but I’d already made a decent amount from the stage. My heels clicked against the floor as I made my way to the bar, my tight black dress hugging every curve. The bartender, a grizzled man named Carl, nodded at me as he poured my usual—a whiskey sour, heavy on the whiskey. “You’re killing it tonight, Mads,” he said, sliding the drink my way. I smiled, taking a sip. “Just doing my job, Carl.”

That’s when I spotted him. Sitting in the corner, alone, was a man who looked like he didn’t belong in a place like this. Mid-thirties, maybe, with sharp features and a suit that probably cost more than my monthly rent. His dark hair was neatly styled, and his eyes—god, his eyes were intense, like they could see right through you. He wasn’t like the other men who came here. He wasn’t drunk or leering. He was just… watching. And for some reason, that made me want him in my private room more than anything.

I finished my drink and made my way over, my hips swaying with purpose. “Hi,” I purred, leaning against the table so my dress dipped low, giving him a glimpse of cleavage. “I’m Madeline. You look like you could use some company.”

He smirked, his eyes flicking up and down my body before meeting mine. “I’m not here for the usual,” he said, his voice deep and smooth. “But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t curious.”

“Well, I’m not your usual dancer,” I replied, running a finger along the rim of his glass. “Why don’t you come with me, and I’ll show you what I mean?”

He hesitated for a moment before standing, towering over me in his expensive shoes. “Lead the way.”

The private room was small, with a plush chair in the center and dim lighting that cast long shadows on the walls. I closed the door behind us, the click echoing in the silence. “Have a seat,” I said, my voice low and inviting. He did, his eyes never leaving mine as I moved to stand in front of him.

“What’s your name?” I asked, running my hands slowly up my thighs, the fabric of my dress gliding over my skin.

“Daniel,” he replied, his gaze intense.

“Daniel,” I repeated, letting his name roll off my tongue. “You’re not like the other men who come here. What brings you to a place like this?”

He leaned back in the chair, crossing his legs. “Curiosity, I suppose. I’ve heard stories about you, Madeline. About how you can make a man lose control without ever taking off your clothes.”

I smirked, stepping closer until I was standing between his legs. “Stories, huh? Well, Daniel, I don’t just tell stories. I make them come to life.”

I began to move, my hips swaying to a rhythm only I could hear. The dress clung to my body as I ran my hands up my sides, teasing the neckline to reveal just a hint of my breasts. Daniel’s eyes darkened, his breath quickening as he watched me. I could feel his desire like a tangible thing, and it fueled me.

“You like what you see?” I whispered, leaning down until my lips were inches from his ear. He didn’t respond, but his hands twitched, like he wanted to reach out and touch me. I pulled back, my fingers trailing down my neck, over my collarbone, and down to the edge of my dress. “You want more, don’t you?”

He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Maybe.”

I laughed, a low, sultry sound that seemed to vibrate through the room. “Maybe? Daniel, you’re in my private room. You paid for this. So, yes, you want more.”

I stepped back, giving him a full view of my body before turning slowly, letting the dress ride up my thighs. I could hear his sharp intake of breath, and it made me smile. I was in control here, and I loved it. I moved closer again, this time straddling his lap, my knees on either side of his thighs. His hands rested on my hips, like he was afraid to touch me, but I could feel the heat of his palms through the fabric of my dress.

“Relax,” I murmured, running my hands through his hair, pulling his face close to mine. “Just feel.”

I began to grind against him, slow and deliberate, my hips moving in a rhythm that was both teasing and torturous. His cock was hard beneath me, pressing against my ass, and I could feel his heartbeat racing beneath my hands. “You like that, don’t you?” I whispered, my lips brushing his ear. “Feeling me against you like this?”

He groaned, his hands tightening on my hips, but he didn’t say anything. I smiled, leaning back slightly so I could see his face. His eyes were closed, his jaw clenched, and I knew I had him right where I wanted him.

I moved faster, my hips rolling against his, the friction sending sparks of pleasure through my own body. I was turned on, too, but this wasn’t about me. This was about him, about pushing him to the edge and keeping him there. I leaned forward, my breasts pressing against his chest, my breath hot against his neck. “You’re close, aren’t you?” I whispered. “You want to cum for me, Daniel. You want to feel it, don’t you?”

He nodded, his hands moving to my waist, like he was trying to pull me closer. “Please,” he rasped.

“Not yet,” I said, my voice firm but teasing. “Not until I say so.”

I slowed my movements, torturously slow, my hips barely moving against his. His groans turned into frustrated grunts, and I could feel his cock twitching against me, desperate for release. “You’re so close,” I murmured, my lips brushing his jawline. “But you’re not allowed to cum yet. Not until I give you permission.”

His hands gripped my waist harder, his nails digging into my skin, but he didn’t say anything. He was completely under my control, and it was exhilarating. I sped up again, my hips moving in sharp, quick motions that had him gasping for breath. “That’s it,” I whispered. “Feel it. Feel how close you are.”

His head fell back against the chair, his eyes squeezed shut as he fought for control. I could feel his cock throbbing against me, and I knew he was right on the edge. “Now,” I said, my voice sharp and commanding. “Cum for me, Daniel. Cum in your pants like a good boy.”

His body tensed, his hands gripping my waist so hard I knew I’d have bruises in the morning. Then, with a hoarse cry, he came, his cock pulsing against me as he spilled into his expensive suit. I kept moving, riding out his orgasm, my own body buzzing with satisfaction.

When it was over, he slumped back in the chair, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. I leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to his jawline. “That was impressive,” I said, my voice soft. “Most men can’t hold out that long.”

He opened his eyes, looking up at me with a dazed expression. “You’re… you’re something else, Madeline.”

I smiled, standing up and smoothing my dress. “I know.”

He reached into his pocket, pulling out a thick stack of bills. “This is for you,” he said, holding it out. “It’s not enough, but… thank you.”

I took the money, tucking it into my bra with a wink. “Anytime, Daniel. Anytime.”

As I left the room, I could hear him cursing under his breath as he tried to clean himself up. I laughed softly, making my way back to the bar. Carl raised an eyebrow as I approached. “Another satisfied customer?”

“You could say that,” I replied, signaling for another drink.

That night was just one of many, but it stood out in my memory. Daniel was different from the other men who came to The Velvet Room. He was refined, intelligent, and yet, he’d lost control just like the rest of them. It was a reminder of the power I held, the ability to make a man forget everything but the feel of my body against his.

I took another sip of wine, the fire casting flickering shadows on the walls. Those days were long behind me now, but they’d shaped me into the woman I was today. I’d learned how to read people, how to push their buttons, and how to get what I wanted. And as I sat there, alone in my quiet house, I couldn’t help but smile. Those lap dances had paid my tuition, but they’d also taught me something far more valuable: the art of control. And that, my dear, is a lesson I’ll never forget.

Desperate Measures

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I stared at the cracked ceiling of my tiny apartment, the peeling paint a stark reminder of my crumbling life. At fifty, I never imagined I’d be here—unemployed, broke, and one step away from homelessness. The eviction notice sat on the kitchen counter, a stark white sheet of paper that felt like a death sentence. I’d lost my job at the bookstore three months ago, and since then, the walls of my existence had been closing in. I had no savings, no family to turn to, and no pride left to spare. My only option was to beg.

With trembling hands, I smoothed my wrinkled blouse and straightened my skirt, trying to look presentable despite the desperation clawing at my throat. I took a deep breath and knocked on the door of Mr. Edwards, my landlord. The man was in his late sixties, a wealthy widower with a reputation for being ruthless but fair. Or so I’d heard. I had no idea what I was walking into, but I knew I had no choice.

The door creaked open, and there he stood, tall and imposing, his gray suit immaculate, his silver hair neatly combed. His sharp green eyes assessed me from head to toe, and I felt a flush creep up my neck. “Madeline,” he said, his voice deep and smooth, like aged whiskey. “What brings you to my door?”

I swallowed hard, my voice shaking as I spoke. “Mr. Edwards, I—I can’t pay the rent this month. I lost my job, and I don’t know what else to do. Please, I’m begging you, don’t evict me. I’ll do anything. Anything at all.”

His lips curled into a slow, knowing smile, and my stomach churned. There was something predatory in his gaze, something that made my skin prickle with unease. “Anything, you say?” he repeated, his eyes narrowing. “That’s quite an offer, Madeline. Are you sure you’re prepared to follow through?”

My heart pounded in my chest, but I nodded, my voice barely a whisper. “Yes. I’m sure.”

He stepped aside, gesturing for me to enter. “Then come in, and let’s discuss the terms of your… arrangement.”

The inside of his apartment was a stark contrast to my own. It was lavish, with expensive furniture, ornate rugs, and walls lined with artwork. The air smelled of leather and cologne, and I felt out of place, my cheap clothes and worn shoes a stark reminder of my poverty. He led me to a plush couch and sat down, motioning for me to take the seat opposite him.

“You’re in a difficult situation, Madeline,” he began, his tone calm but firm. “And I’m willing to help. But as you said, you’ll do anything. So let’s be clear about what that entails.”

I nodded, my throat dry. “Yes, Mr. Edwards. I’m willing to do whatever it takes.”

His gaze intensified, and I felt a shiver run down my spine. “What I require, Madeline, is your submission. You’ll become my… companion, for lack of a better term. You’ll cater to my needs, both in and out of the bedroom. In return, I’ll allow you to stay in your apartment, rent-free. But understand this: you’ll be mine to command. Completely and utterly mine.”

My breath caught in my throat, and my cheeks burned with shame. This was it—the moment I’d been dreading. But what choice did I have? I was desperate, and he was offering me a way out, however humiliating. “I—I understand,” I managed to say, my voice trembling.

He leaned forward, his eyes piercing. “Do you, Madeline? Do you understand what it means to submit to me? To give up control, to let me use you as I see fit? There’s no going back once you agree to this.”

I took a deep breath, my hands clenching into fists in my lap. “I understand,” I repeated, firmer this time. “I’ll do whatever you ask.”

A slow, satisfied smile spread across his face. “Good girl. Now, let’s start with something simple. Stand up and turn around for me.”

My heart raced as I obeyed, my movements stiff and uncertain. I felt his eyes on me, appraising, possessive. “Lift your skirt,” he commanded, his voice low and commanding.

I hesitated, my cheeks flaming, but I did as he asked, my hands trembling as I hiked the fabric up to my waist. I was wearing plain white panties, the only clean pair I had left, and I felt exposed, vulnerable.

“Now, bend over and place your hands on the couch,” he ordered, his tone brooking no argument.

My breath hitched, but I complied, my face burning with embarrassment. I could feel his gaze on my bare thighs, my panty-clad ass, and I wanted to shrink away, to disappear. But I stayed where I was, my body rigid with tension.

He stood up and walked around me, his presence looming over me like a storm cloud. I felt his hand on my lower back, his touch firm but not unkind. “You’re a beautiful woman, Madeline,” he murmured, his breath warm against my ear. “And you’re going to learn to enjoy this. To crave it.”

Before I could respond, his hand landed on my ass, a sharp smack that made me gasp. “Ah!” I cried out, my body jolting in surprise.

“Shh,” he chided, his hand rubbing the spot he’d struck. “You’ll learn to take it, and you’ll learn to thank me for it. Now, stay still.”

I bit my lip, my heart pounding as I waited for what came next. His hand landed again, harder this time, and I whimpered, my body arching involuntarily. “Please,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “I—I’m sorry.”

“Sorry won’t cut it, Madeline,” he said, his tone stern. “You’re mine now, and you’ll learn to obey without question. Do you understand?”

“Y-yes,” I stammered, my cheeks wet with tears. “I understand.”

He spanked me again, and again, each strike building in intensity, until my ass was on fire, and I was sobbing, my body trembling with a mix of pain and humiliation. But beneath it all, I felt something else—a strange, undeniable arousal that coiled low in my belly. I was ashamed of it, disgusted with myself, but it was there, undeniable.

Finally, he stopped, his hand resting on my lower back as I struggled to catch my breath. “Good girl,” he praised, his voice soft now, almost tender. “You took that well. Now, stand up and face me.”

I did as he asked, my face streaked with tears, my body still shaking. He handed me a tissue, his expression unreadable. “Clean yourself up, Madeline. We’re not done yet.”

I wiped my face, my hands still trembling, and looked up at him, my eyes wide and fearful. “W-what now?”

He smiled, a slow, predatory smile that sent a shiver down my spine. “Now, you’re going to kneel before me and show me just how grateful you are for my generosity.”

My breath caught, and my cheeks burned anew. I knew what he was asking, what he expected of me, and the thought both terrified and excited me. But I had no choice. I was his now, body and soul, and I had to obey.

I sank to my knees, my heart pounding in my chest, and looked up at him, my eyes filled with uncertainty. “Please, Mr. Edwards,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “I—I don’t know if I can—”

“Shh,” he interrupted, his hand cupping my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. “You can, and you will. Because you’re mine, Madeline. And I own you.”

His words sent a jolt through me, a mix of fear and desire that left me breathless. I nodded, my throat tight, and reached out, my hands trembling as I undid his belt, then his pants. His cock was already hard, thick and heavy in my hands, and I felt a surge of nervous anticipation.

“Suck it,” he commanded, his voice low and rough. “Show me how much you want this.”

I hesitated for only a moment before lowering my head, my lips brushing against the head of his cock. It was hot and throbbing, and I felt a rush of embarrassment as I opened my mouth, taking him in inch by inch. He was thick, almost too much for me, and I had to fight the urge to gag as he thrust forward, filling my mouth completely.

“Good girl,” he groaned, his hands tangling in my hair, guiding my movements. “Suck it, Madeline. Suck my cock like the desperate little slut you are.”

His words were filthy, degrading, but they sent a spike of arousal through me, and I found myself responding, my tongue swirling around him, my lips moving up and down his shaft. He tasted musky, masculine, and I felt a strange sense of power in pleasing him, in being the one to bring him pleasure.

“Deeper,” he demanded, his grip tightening in my hair. “Take it all, you greedy little cunt.”

I whimpered but obeyed, hollowing my cheeks as I took him as far as I could, my nose pressing against his coarse pubic hair. He thrust into my mouth, his hips snapping forward, and I gagged, my eyes watering, but I didn’t pull away. I was his now, and I would do anything he asked, no matter how degrading.

“That’s it,” he groaned, his voice thick with lust. “Fuck, you’re so good, Madeline. So fucking good.”

His praise made my heart swell, and I felt a surge of pride, of belonging. I was his, and he wanted me, needed me. The thought was intoxicating, and I threw myself into the act, sucking him with abandon, my hands gripping his thighs as he fucked my mouth with increasing urgency.

“I’m close,” he warned, his voice strained. “Take it, Madeline. Swallow every drop.”

I nodded, my mouth full of him, and braced myself as he thrust deep, his cock pulsing as he came, filling my mouth with his hot, bitter seed. I swallowed, my throat working as I took it all, every last drop, and he groaned, his hands tightening in my hair.

“Good girl,” he praised, his voice soft as he pulled out, his cock glistening with my saliva. “You’ve earned your keep for tonight.”

I sat back on my heels, my face flushed, my body buzzing with a mix of shame and satisfaction. He smiled down at me, his expression satisfied, and offered me his handkerchief. “Clean yourself up, Madeline. And remember, this is just the beginning.”

I took the handkerchief, my hands still shaking, and wiped my mouth, my mind reeling from what had just happened. I was his now, completely and utterly his, and there was no going back. But as I looked up at him, his sharp green eyes filled with possession, I felt a strange sense of peace. I was no longer alone, no longer adrift. I belonged to him, and in that moment, it was enough.

“Come,” he said, offering me his hand. “I’ll show you to your room. You’ll stay here from now on, under my roof, and under my control.”

I took his hand, my heart pounding, and followed him, my mind racing with questions, with fears, but also with a strange, undeniable excitement. I was his sex slave now, his to command, his to use. And as terrifying as that was, it was also liberating. I no longer had to worry about rent, about survival. I was his, and he would take care of me.

The room he led me to was small but luxurious, with a plush bed, soft lighting, and a private bathroom. It was a far cry from my run-down apartment, and I felt a twinge of guilt, of unworthiness. But Mr. Edwards smiled, his hand on my shoulder, and squeezed gently. “This is your new home, Madeline. And I expect you to earn your keep.”

I nodded, my throat tight, and looked up at him, my eyes filled with a mix of fear and anticipation. “I will, Mr. Edwards. I’ll do whatever you ask.”

His smile widened, and he leaned in, his lips brushing against my ear. “Good girl. Now, get some rest. Tomorrow, your training begins.”

I shivered at his words, at the promise of what was to come, and watched as he left, the door clicking shut behind him. I was his now, body and soul, and I had no idea what the future held. But as I lay down on the soft bed, the sheets cool against my skin, I felt a strange sense of calm. I was no longer alone. I was his, and that was enough.

Little did I know, the months to come would push me to my limits, would test my boundaries, and would awaken desires I never knew I had. Mr. Edwards was a demanding master, but he was also fair, and under his guidance, I would learn to embrace my new role, to find pleasure in submission, and to crave the touch of his hand, the weight of his command. I was his sex slave, his to use and abuse, and in that, I would find a strange, twisted sense of freedom.

Unexpected Caller

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I stared at the screen, my heart pounding in my chest. The cursor blinked mockingly, waiting for me to input the payment details. My fingers hovered over the keypad, trembling slightly. It couldn’t be. But the address was right there, staring back at me in black and white. 123 Elm Street. Tommy’s place. My nineteen-year-old neighbor with the lazy grin and jeans that hugged his ass like a second skin. What the hell was he doing calling my phone sex line?

I’d started this whole thing as a last resort. Desperation had driven me to it. The bills were piling up, and my job at the bookstore wasn’t cutting it. I’d seen an ad online, promising easy money for women with “a voice that could seduce.” I’d laughed at first, but then I’d thought about it. I’d always been told I had a husky voice, a voice that could make men melt. Why not use it?

The training had been surprisingly thorough. They’d taught me how to modulate my tone, how to whisper fantasies into the void, how to make strangers on the other end of the line believe I was everything they’d ever wanted. I’d been good at it, too. Maybe too good.

But this… this was different. This was Tommy. The boy who mowed my lawn sometimes, the one who always flirted shamelessly, his eyes lingering on my cleavage a little too long. The one who made me feel things I hadn’t felt in years.

My finger twitched towards the “end call” button. I should hang up. Pretend this never happened. But curiosity, that damnable, insatiable curiosity, held me back. What did he want? What kind of fantasies did a boy like Tommy have?

Taking a deep breath, I steadied my voice. “Hello, darling,” I purred, my usual professional tone slipping into something more personal, more dangerous. “Tell me, what brings you to my line tonight?”

There was a pause, then a nervous chuckle. “Uh, hey. I didn’t think it’d actually be… someone like you.”

Someone like me? What did that mean? I bit my lip, a thrill coursing through me. “Someone like me? And what kind of someone is that, sweetheart?”

“Someone… experienced,” he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Someone who knows what she’s doing.”

Experienced. The word hung in the air between us, heavy with implication. I leaned back in my chair, crossing my legs. My silk robe fell open slightly, revealing a hint of lace. I wasn’t on camera, but the act of seduction was as much for me as it was for him.

“Oh, I know exactly what I’m doing,” I murmured, letting my voice drop to a sultry growl. “Now, tell me, what are you looking for tonight? What do you need from me?”

Another pause, longer this time. I could almost hear him squirming on the other end. “I… I want to be dominated,” he blurted out, his voice cracking slightly. “I want you to tell me what to do.”

Dominated. Interesting. I’d played the role of the dominatrix before, but never with someone I knew. Never with someone so young, so close to home. The taboo of it sent a shiver down my spine.

“Is that so?” I drawled, letting a hint of amusement creep into my voice. “And what makes you think you can handle me, sweetheart? I’m not just any woman, you know.”

“I… I know,” he stammered. “That’s why I called. I’ve seen you, around the building. You’re… you’re beautiful. And I know you’re older, but that just makes it hotter. You’re so confident, so in control.”

Older. The word stung, but only for a moment. He was right, of course. I was older. But I was also experienced, and right now, that was a weapon I could wield with deadly precision.

“Flattery will get you everywhere, darling,” I purred, leaning forward, my breasts straining against the silk. “But talk is cheap. Are you ready to put your money where your mouth is?”

“Yes,” he breathed, his voice thick with desire. “Anything. Just tell me what to do.”

I smiled, a slow, predatory smile. This was going to be fun.

“Alright, Tommy,” I said, letting his name roll off my tongue like a promise. “First things first. I want you to stand up. Slowly. And tell me what you’re wearing.”

There was a rustling sound, then the creak of a chair. “I’m… I’m wearing jeans and a t-shirt,” he said, his voice shaking slightly.

“Jeans, hmm?” I murmured, picturing him in my mind’s eye. “Tight ones, I hope. I like a man who takes care of his body.”

“They’re… they’re pretty tight,” he admitted, a hint of pride creeping into his voice.

“Good boy,” I cooed. “Now, I want you to unbutton your jeans. Slowly. And tell me how it feels.”

There was a long pause, then the sound of fabric sliding against skin. “It’s… it’s hot,” he whispered, his voice hoarse with desire. “I can feel the air on my skin.”

“That’s it,” I encouraged, my voice low and hypnotic. “Let the air caress you. Imagine it’s my breath, teasing you, tantalizing you.”

“Oh God,” he moaned, his voice cracking. “That’s… that’s so hot.”

I smiled, a wicked gleam in my eye. This was too easy. Too delicious. “Now, Tommy, I want you to slide your hand inside your jeans. Slowly. And tell me what you feel.”

Another pause, then a sharp intake of breath. “I… I can feel myself,” he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. “It’s… it’s hard.”

“Hard for me, darling?” I purred, leaning back in my chair, my robe falling open further, revealing the swell of my breasts. “Tell me, how hard are you?”

“So hard,” he groaned, his voice thick with need. “I’ve never been this hard before.”

“Good boy,” I repeated, my voice dripping with approval. “Now, I want you to stroke yourself. Slowly. And tell me how it feels.”

The line went silent except for the sound of his ragged breathing. Then, “It’s… it’s amazing. I can feel my cock throbbing in my hand. It’s so big, so hard.”

“Big, hmm?” I murmured, a smile playing on my lips. “I like a man with a big cock. Makes me wonder what else you’ve got going for you.”

“I… I don’t know,” he panted, his voice desperate. “Just tell me what to do. I’ll do anything.”

Anything. The word hung in the air, heavy with possibility. I leaned forward, my breasts spilling out of my robe, my nipples tight with arousal. “Anything, hmm? Even if it’s a little… taboo?”

“Yes,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “Anything.”

I smiled, a slow, dangerous smile. “Alright, Tommy. Here’s what I want you to do. I want you to go to your window. The one that faces my apartment. And I want you to stroke yourself while you watch me.”

There was a sharp intake of breath, then a frantic, “You can see me?”

“Oh, I can see you,” I purred, standing up, my robe falling to the floor. I was naked now, my body on full display. “And I want you to watch me, too. Watch me touch myself while you touch yourself. Let’s see who can make the other one cum first.”

“Oh fuck,” he moaned, his voice breaking. “I’m already so close.”

“Not yet, darling,” I teased, walking towards my own window, the sheer curtains billowing slightly in the breeze. “We’re just getting started.”

I could see his silhouette now, a dark shape against the glass. He was stroking himself furiously, his movements desperate, needy. I smiled, a wicked gleam in my eye, and began to touch myself, my fingers tracing slow, deliberate circles around my clit.

The Exhibitionist’s Night

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I lay back on the soft sheets, my body tingling with anticipation as I prepared for my little exhibitionist adventure. It was a warm summer night, and I had checked into this motel with a mischievous plan in mind. At 50 years old, I still had a wild side that craved attention, and tonight, I was going to give in to my desires.

My room was on the ground floor, with a large window overlooking the parking lot. I knew that anyone walking by would have a clear view of my room, and that thought excited me immensely. I turned on the bedside lamp, ensuring the room was well-lit, and then I walked over to the window. With a click, I unlocked the latch and pushed the curtains wide open, letting the warm breeze caress my naked body.

I had stripped off my clothes earlier, leaving them in a pile on the chair, and now I stood proudly, my body on full display. My brown hair fell in soft waves down my back, framing my pretty face. I smiled, knowing that my green eyes held a mischievous glint that would draw anyone’s attention. My breasts, a perfect C cup, were firm and perky, the nipples hardening in the cool night air. I could feel my pussy already growing wet as I imagined the possibilities.

I walked back to the bed, my hips swaying seductively, and lay down, spreading my legs wide. The cool air teased my sensitive skin as I ran my fingers lightly over my thighs, slowly inching towards my core. I wanted to build the tension, to savor every moment of this experience.

As I began to caress my breasts, gently pinching my nipples, I glanced out of the corner of my eye towards the window. That’s when I saw him. A tall, handsome man stood just outside, his gaze locked onto me. His eyes widened as he took in the sight of my naked body, and I felt a thrill course through me. I had an audience, and he was clearly enjoying the show.

I continued my slow, sensual exploration, sliding my hand down my stomach, my fingers dipping into the damp curls between my thighs. I let out a soft moan, partly for his benefit, partly because the anticipation was already driving me wild. My fingers found my clit, and I began to rub it gently, my eyes fluttering shut as pleasure rippled through my body.

The man outside was now openly watching me, his eyes burning with desire. I could see the outline of his erection pressing against his pants, and it only fueled my own desire further. I wanted to make him hard, to know that I was affecting him as much as he was affecting me.

I spread my legs even wider, giving him an unobstructed view of my glistening pussy. My fingers delved deeper, sliding into my wetness, and I began to finger-fuck myself slowly, my hips moving in rhythm with my hand. I let out a soft, contented sigh, my eyes fluttering open to meet his gaze.

He was still there, his breath fogging the window as he watched me with an intense hunger. I smiled at him, a silent invitation, and his hand moved to his crotch, rubbing himself through his pants. I could see the bulge growing, and it made my pussy clench with need. I wanted to feel him, to taste him, but for now, this voyeuristic game was enough to drive us both wild.

I increased the pace, my fingers plunging in and out of my pussy, my other hand squeezing and tugging at my nipples. I was so wet, my juices running down my thighs, and I knew I was putting on a good show. The man’s hand was now inside his pants, and I imagined his long, hard cock in my mouth, the taste of him on my tongue.

As I brought myself closer to the edge, my moans grew louder, filling the room. I could see the man’s lips moving, as if he was whispering words of encouragement, urging me on. His hand moved faster, and I knew he was close to climaxing too. The thought of us both reaching orgasm together, separated only by a pane of glass, was incredibly arousing.

My fingers worked my clit feverishly, and I could feel my orgasm building, a wave of pleasure about to crash over me. I arched my back, my breasts thrusting forward, and I cried out as the climax hit me. My body shook, my pussy clenching around my fingers as I rode out the waves of pleasure.

Through my post-orgasmic haze, I saw the man’s hand move faster, and then he froze, his body stiffening. I knew he was cumming, his cock erupting with thick ropes of cum, staining his pants. I smiled, satisfied, as I watched him through half-lidded eyes, my breath coming in short gasps.

We stayed like that for a moment, both of us catching our breath. Then, with a final glance and a smile, he turned and walked away, disappearing into the night. I lay there, my body still buzzing with pleasure, a satisfied smile on my face.

I had no idea who that man was, but the anonymous encounter had been thrilling. The thought of being watched, of bringing a stranger to the brink of ecstasy, was a powerful aphrodisiac. I knew I would remember this night for a long time, and the memory would always bring a wicked smile to my lips.

Perhaps, I thought with a mischievous glint in my eye, I should make this a regular occurrence. After all, I had discovered a new, exciting way to satisfy my exhibitionist cravings, and I couldn’t wait to see who would be watching next time.