Mia

Ready and Willing



In the middle of the night Mia opened her eyes to find the bed empty but the fire still going strong.  She was aware of something behind her and looked over her left shoulder.
    “Oh, darling, you look beautiful when you’ve just been fucked for hours.  We’ll do this more often.”
    Mona smiled and shrugged out of her heavy coat, dropping her things onto the floor and getting onto the bed with her lover, leaning her head against the headboard. As Mia turned her back to her once more, Mona rested her hand on the younger woman’s blanketed waist.  Mia was still half asleep, snuggled up against her, her eyes closing slowly.
    “I heard that you were quite spectacular tonight.  Lucia was disappointed that she had to leave.  But it seems that she found comfort in Paula and one of my bodyguards.  They were making quite a ruckus in the living room when I got in.”
    “What time is it?”  Mia asked sleepily, rolling over to find herself cushioned against Mona’s ample breasts.
    “Almost four in the morning.  Armand only left you a few moments ago, when I came in.  He was very satiated, I might add.”  She smiled and played with a lock of Mia’s hair.  “One of the reasons I kept him on is that under that sweet, clean-cut exterior, he’s really a nymphomaniac.  I found that out when I brought him to Paris with me several years ago.  He couldn’t stop bedding the servants.  He gets it from anywhere he can, actually.  Whores, serving boys, waitresses, and maids.  He and Vincent really get along fine together.”
    “Yes, I saw." Mona laughed at Mia’s wry remark and bent down to kiss her lightly on the lips.
    “But in a way, I’m proud of you for tonight.  You went as far as you could, and I like that.  But you stopped with Lucia.  At first, I’d thought that if you couldn’t hack it, I’d have to let you go.”  She paused and reached down into the covers, her hand seeking the part in Mia’s thighs.  Finding it, she slid her fingers in and turned her mouth to cover her lover’s.  They kissed for a few moments, while Mona stroked her, Mia turning onto her back to let Mona push away the covers and enjoy the view.
    “But in a way, I’m glad.  You did let her eat you, and that was something.  And now I wonder.  You’re willing, which is all that I require.  From now on, I don’t want you with any other woman unless I’m there to guide you.”
    Mia sighed and reached up to begin unbuttoning Mona’s suit jacket, and as her mouth parted to let her lover in, she replied softly, “Of course.”

We were in the back of the sleek, black, brand new limousine.  I was stretched out on the seat with my head on Mona’s lap, while she gazed out of the tinted windows, her stockinged feet on the cushioned seat across from us.  As she slowly stroked my hair, I took a deep breath, drinking in the scents of her perfume, her talcum powder and her dry cleaned clothes.  She always looked so perfectly professional, always dressed to kill, her hair done stylishly and her make-up finishing the final product which stood as a work of art.
    I rolled onto my back and looked up at her from her lap, my hand reaching up so that my fingers could lightly rub the line of her jaw.
    “Where did you go last night?”  She smiled, looking down at me, and reached above me to pluck a cigarette from a silver container that rested alongside a silver, monogrammed lighter on the back dashboard.  After putting it between her lips and lighting it, she took a deep pull and blew the air out across the back of the car.
    “Not far.”
    “But I thought that you were going out of town?”  I closed my eyes.  I felt one of her hands reach down to caress the side of my neck.
    “I did.  For a short while.  But I spent most of the night at Julian’s.”  That made me open my eyes.
    “Julian’s?”  Her smile grew a little wider, but it looked a little colder than before.  The look on her face was both calm and indulgent.
    “Yes, of course.  I spent the night fucking him, and then ... “
    “And then what?”  I whispered softly, feeling that itch in my brain again, the one I’d had when she’d called me up after our ménage à trois at my apartment.  It had had something to do with that ominous feeling I got when she mentioned getting rid of Julian.
    “Oh darling,” she sighed airily, her redheaded coiff glinting in the pale sunlight as she leaned sideways to press a button to roll the window down halfway.  The chill air rushed in from the wintery day.  “I don’t want to rush it.  Look, I’ll tell you all the details later -- maybe we’ll even reenact them.  But right now, let’s just not get into it, alright?”
    I closed my eyes and tried to find a way to calm myself down, to reason things out.  Maybe she just made sure that he’d gotten over me, and it was nothing more than sex.  But what about that gun, the one she’d plumbed my insides with, until I’d melted with my climax?  She hadn’t appeared to have been lying about what she’d planned to do with it.  I remembered her saying something about killing – too many things mixed up in sex and innuendo.  I hoped that she was only eccentric.  So maybe the gun meant nothing, the itch in my brain was an over-reaction.  But I didn’t think so.
    “But-“  She put a finger to my lips as I moved to get up from the seat and face her.
    “Shh,”  she admonished gently, and she put her hand down into her jacket pocket, pulling out a purple velvet pouch.  She took one last pull on her cigarette, then extinguished it, tossing it out of the window and then pressing the button to close it.  While I knelt on the seat beside her, crouching a little because of the ceiling of the car, she gave me a promising smile and loosened the top of the pouch.  From inside of the bag she pulled a small, black lacquer contraption.  She laid the pouch on the back dashboard and then with the thumbs and first two fingers of both hands, tugged on it to elongate it.
    “Only the best,” she said in a low voice, smiling up at me, her red, red lipstick making me think crazy thoughts as she put her hand on my thigh and nodded for me to comply with her silent suggestion.  I was wearing a plaid and pleated skirt, kind of like a Catholic schoolgirl’s uniform, and black, thigh-high cotton stockings underneath.  The black bikini panties I wore were now damp, as I got off of my knees, bent forward so that she could see my cleavage through the neck of my white cotton sweater.  I heeled my black Sunday school shoes off, bracing my hands against the back of the seat and the curve of the ceiling above the window, then reached under my skirt again to pull away my panties.  I folded them up loosely and set them on the opposite seat, then turned to Mona again.
    She had unbuttoned the side of her wraparound thigh-high woolen skirt, had tugged it up around the part in her thighs, to reveal the crotchless black lace panties that she wore.  They would have looked cheap on a bimbo in a pornographic movie, but on her they looked classy and chic.  She smiled at me and put a hand out to guide me towards her, causing me to straddle her and sit back a little on the tops of her thighs.  She wore gartered hose with her panties, so that some of her ivory flesh was naked to the touch, and I reached down to squeeze her warm skin, as she smiled and set the oblong object that she still held down on the seat between her legs.  Then she reached up to pull at my sweater, and I lifted my arms so that she could pull it off.  The baby soft fabric came off easily and slid to the side, landing on the seat next to her thigh, and I took a breath as she pushed lightly with her hands at the small of my back, causing me to lean forward.  With one hand still bracing me from behind, with the other she pulled aside the white lace of my bra to release a nipple.  Then her red lips encircled it, while her free hand reached down again.  Suckling me firmly, Mona’s long, dark lashes fluttered against my skin as she reached under my skirt to slide her forefinger into me.
    “In Miami the weather will be more humid, so I hope I won’t see you hiding in any more sweaters,” she said around my breast, her teeth clamped onto my nipple lightly, and I sighed in agreement, while she slid her slick fingers around my clit and played with my nether lips.  Then, she retracted her hand from beneath my skirt and pulled her mouth away from my breast to look up at me.  Leaning close with desire, I did not smile back as she gave me a gentle smile of her own.  She picked up the black lacquer instrument, which had slightly rippled ends that grew a little larger at the ends than the thick width at the middle.  I knew what it was, but wouldn’t acknowledge her intentions for its immediate use.
    “Darling, watch,” she whispered, noticing that I had started to bend my head forward into her hair so that I didn't have to see.  I obeyed, and watched as she delicately slid it into her dark pink flesh, deeper and deeper, a small sound of delight exiting her lips as with her left hand she reached under my skirt from behind to fondle my rear.  The false organ was rather long, and almost two inches remained available to her fingertips, as with gentle pulsing movements, she slowly thrust the instrument into her.  Under such careful ministrations, I watched her chest heave, and her cheeks grow red beneath the blush she wore.  She breathed softly, controlled in her appearance but obviously passionate, as she rolled her hips to meet the thrust of the instrument she held in her fingers.  Then she slowed down.
    “Okay,  almost time for you now,” she breathed, and she pulled it out slowly, then lifted it between us, examining its glistening exterior, wet with her inner juices.  She brought it to her lips and slid it in, watching me watch her, seeing the fear in my eyes that I could not hide from her, but she merely smiled, and then slid it back out of her mouth, licking her lips at the taste of herself.
    “Mia, don’t be shy now,” she said with an authoritative air, and I closed my eyes as I lifted myself to receive the piece.  It wasn't alive, but it was warm with Mona’s heat, and it drove intently into me as Mona kissed my neck and then began to tongue my breast, holding my bottom with one hand as she pushed me with it lightly down onto the weapon.  I breathed her name, and felt her smile against my chest as the hand that supported me pulled away to come between us.  She sank one beautiful, manicured and painted finger into my sex along with the contraption, then pulled it out expertly, returning to my buttocks from beneath my skirt.  I felt it slide easily into my ass and breathed her name again, rising and falling slowly until I came, panting her name in a low voice, not wanting the driver up front to hear.
    “Darling, I have better dildos at home.  Bigger and better shaped.  But don’t worry, you’ll learn all about that later.  Come here.”  Mona smiled and kissed me, putting my breast back in the cup of my bra and squeezing my bottom while she removed the dildo, reaching to the back dashboard for a tissue.  She wiped it dry, then snapped it back to its original length, before returning it to its bag and setting it aside.  She gestured for me to lie down on top of her, with my head between her legs, and after I removed my skirt and she removed everything but her underclothes, I did.  The 69 position had been one that I’d never experienced before, and I felt awkward at first, but Mona did not waste time or try to be patient about it.  She pushed my right leg up so that it rested up on the dashboard beside the tinted rear window, and slid the other to the side so that my leg below the knee hung out above the floor.  I followed suit, and then from the upside down view of her red-haired sex, I appreciated her as a work of art.
    When I felt her tongue slide up calmly to devour me, I jerked in shock, but she squeezed my bottom with her hands and delved even deeper.  Lightly grasping her upper thighs to me, I sank my mouth into her, tugging lightly with my teeth, I pulled at her lips and with my fingers opened her so that my tongue could go in deep and hot as hers was.  We did this for quite a while, coming close to the peak of pleasure but always letting the tension abate, before starting in again.  After a little over half an hour of gentle moaning and whispered love words between each other’s thighs, she released me for a moment.
    She reached out to press a button.
    “Yes, madamoiselle?”  The driver sounded suave but charming.
    “Where are we, Claude?”  She sounded quite calm, but her fingers were quietly exploring my sex as she spoke.  I bit her thigh to keep from making a noise.
    “Almost there, madamoiselle.”  
    “Buzz me when we’ve arrived.”
    “Yes, madamoiselle.”  She turned off the intercom and returned to the job at hand.

On the airplane we had first class seats on a double-decker Boeing.  Seated next to each other with only three other occupants, one of them being the bodyguard/chauffeur, we had plenty of room and privacy, our seats islands among the empty ones.
    We ate breakfast after each going to the bathroom to wash our hands of the smell of each other.  While I was on the way out of the cubicle, Mona kissed me sweetly, and back in our seats she turned to look at me meditatively.
    “You’re wondering what the hell I’m turning you into,” she said flatly, and I turned to look back at her.
    “Of course I am.  You’ve turned me into a whore overnight.  I’m amazed.”  She gave me an indulgent smile and reached across the seat arm to squeeze my hand in my lap.
    ”Darling,” she began in a way that would have made imperious Hollywood actresses of decades past kill for her voice, “before long I’ll have you doing much worse.  But nevermind all that now.”  She smiled and settled her head back on the seat pillow.
    “What I want to know is, are you really willing?  To live my life--”  She looked at me sideways as I waited.  “I know all about you, Mia.  I know that you were a best-selling author for several weeks, and that was for a horror novel of the Stephen King genre that won you fifteen minutes of fame.  Your works afterward received good sales, but basically your following filtered out into nothing.”  I closed my eyes and leaned my head against the seat back.  I didn't want to be reminded of my failure.
    “I know that your agent has been thinking about dropping you, and that after he doesn’t see you for a few months, he’ll no longer take you seriously, and he will sign you off.  I know that you have no family, except a lost brother from the Gulf War that’s too messed up to care about you any more, let alone to take the time to know you.  He stopped responding to your letters years ago.  Neither of you knows where the other is, where you live, what your jobs are.”
    “How do you know all this?”  I refused to open my eyes.  It wasn't much, but it was basically the sum of my entire life.  Pathetic.  Couldn’t even fill up a paragraph, let alone a page.
    “Later, darling, later.”  I waited for more.  “Julian came to me with baggage about the two of you.  When I first began fucking him, he tried to control himself, but night after night, he got more and more confused about what he wanted, from me, from you.  I know that violence and sex are a potent mix, a dangerous one.  And I’m often involved in both.  All my lovers know this.  And Julian -- he didn’t know what he wanted.  He wanted me and you, or for me to kill you, or to forget me, or a ménage à trois or ... he was very lost, I have to admit.  But I solved all that.”  Mona didn't seem to be worrying about the fact that an innocently passing stewardess might overhear.
    She went on, “He told me all about you.  Everything he’d observed, secrets I was pretty sure he didn't learn from you.  He told me about the violent sex, and it intrigued me how you handled it.  His descriptions were of course slightly perverse, but perversity is something I like and sometimes enjoy.”  She laughed low in her throat.  “In any case, my dear, he gave me the impression that in a way you were just as passionate, just as on fire as he in these combustible moments you shared -- but that he was just a little too possessive and ferocious to your taste.  I thought perhaps that if I were to change your environment ... to mix in a little intrigue, make it less real and more of a fantasy, a dream, you might feel less trapped and more comfortable.  Or at least more willing to explore and let go of your inhibitions.  Instead of just being taken, as you were by Julian, you had to be commanded to submit, willing to be taken. And I was right.  You were incredible, when I took control of the situation.  You did beautifully.”  She paused, brought my hand to her lips and kissed my fingertips.
    “And I suppose that it was then I really became intrigued.  Because I could smell your fear.”  She licked one of my fingers.  “There’s nothing as erotic as that smell when you know the person still really wants you, wants you even more because you scare them, because you have the capacity to break them, or drive them to witlessness.”
    “But even afraid, you have something about you.  A certain ... power? "  Her eyes darkened, narrowing.  "Fleeting and vague, albeit, but there.  You knew what you were doing, I could see it in your eyes.  You knew that you were giving yourself over to me and to anything I wanted you to do.  And you made that decision.  You had strength in doing so.  You recognized your weakness, your helplessness in your situation, and in that lay your power.”  Silence for long moments.  I sighed, smelled her perfume, which she had reapplied in the bathroom.
    “So, I am going to be your guide, for a long while. Don’t ask how many months, or how many years.  Forget your job, your bills, your apartment, your friends.  That’s all taken care of.  You’re with me now.  And in my own way, I’m going to take care of you, to raise you.  The two of us are going on a little trip together.  I am quite sure that I will grow to love you in a way that I have never loved anyone else.  So, are you willing?  Are you really and truly willing to explore the boundless future with me?”  When she put it like that, how could I deny her?  I opened my eyes, and looked into her incredible green ones. She was smiling at me candidly, with one exotically raised eyebrow.
    “Of course,” I said, and she laughed lightly in response, trapping me in a light joy that held no echoes of the danger she’d warned me of.  With that, she kissed my hand.

After an hour or so of sleep I awoke to the touch of her own hand on my face.  Opening my eyes, I saw her standing up, ready to leave her seat, and I looked up at her, confused.
    “Come with me,” she said softly, and I took her hand, walking with her.  As we reached the back of the first class section, I saw the chauffeur stand up and smile at me as he moved ahead of us and opened a lavatory door.  Smiling at me, Mona gestured that I wait and slipped inside with him.  I heard, at intervals, low moans, and looked around cautiously, but none of the two passengers was awake.  No stewardess appeared, so I put my ear to the door and listened to them make love, Mona’s breathing calm while Claude’s was low and heavy.  After fifteen minutes, the door unlocked and Mona emerged, glowing and smiling naughtily.  She kissed me deeply, and I tasted a salty taste and realized it was Claude’s.
    She gently pushed me inside and as the door shut behind me I looked up at him and stood still for several moments.  He was blond, and I hated blonds, but he was handsome and well built.  He was no longer wearing his uniform, but a partially unbuttoned long-sleeved pinstriped shirt that might go with a suit and tie, and a pair of casual slacks and dress shoes.  His fly was open to reveal his boxers, through which thrust a large and hungry organ.  He watched me watch him for another second, and then he smiled, reaching out to brush a lock of hair out of my eye while I reached up under my skirt to tug off my panties once again.  He leaned with his back to the basin.
    “Come here,” he directed softly, drawing me to him by the hips, and he hoisted me up, so that I straddled him with my knees pressed harshly against the cold metal of the basin.  He leaned back against the mirror and I felt him thrust in, and I began to rock, clutching him by the hair and gasping into his mouth, hearing his harsh breathing in my ear.
    Riding him almost roughly, I squeezed his cock inside of me and gasped, “Vasectomy?”
    “Yes,” he groaned, and then I clutched him tightly to me while I ground up and down quickly, my mouth pressed to the arch of his neck until finally, we climaxed, coming swiftly and violently.  After the tide of passion was over, he released me gently and I wiped myself with tissue, flushing the toilet and pulling my underwear back on before squeezing his still hard organ goodbye.  Then I washed my hands and exited without further ado, to meet Mona just outside.  The look on her face was suggestive, as if she wanted to do it all over again, but I shook my head quickly and moved back to our seats, unable to speak or to look at her.  I was afraid of her.  Afraid of what else she might make me do, because I had the feeling that I would never be able to deny her or what she wanted.

 

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