Cant

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Conversational turn and turnabout.
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'I just can't go through life without introducing myself and finding out where such a charming woman might come from,' Mr Winter smiled, swivelling round towards her on his barstool.

'Poor you,' June giggled, pushing her glass away from her on the bar and watching the trail of residual fluid build up on the smooth surface.

He looked down at the trail following her hand and then looked down to the neat little black dress and the delightful legs, right down to the stockinged feet and the boots that stood next to her seat.

'I was starting to think that I might have resort to showing you my atlas in a bid to get you to enlighten me as to why you have bared your beautiful feet in public.'

'Very geographic of you, sir, but rather unnecessary: you could just ask, you know.'

'I'd rather you gave me the answers of your own accord.'

'Look at me: diminutive; delightful; alone and I take off my uncomfortable boots in comfortable bars.'

'Look at me: professional; athletic; fifty two and I own my own atlas.'

'So well endowed!'

'It is nice atlas.'

'In thick vellum, sir?'

'You can measure it, if you like?'

'Do desperate times call for desperate measures, sir?'

'I've never considered an atlas a desperate measure,' he laughed, lifting the heavy book onto the bar and opening to the east coast of America. 'See. This is where I live – right across the pond from you, normally.'

'You have a pond, sir?' Summer teased, circling her finger in a little pool of spilt liquor and then, lifting her finger up to her mouth to suck it slowly in. 'Tell me, sir...'

'Yes?' 'Do you have fish in your pond or is it just ornamental with pretty little icebergs? And sunken Titanics?'

'Yes, dear,' he sighed. 'Very apt given I am winter.'

'Winter, sir?'

That's Mr Winter to you,' he added sternly, taking her wrist in his hands, squeezing playfully at first and then more than a little forcefully, before pulling her across the room to a booth in the corner. 'Now, tell me: what are you giggling at?'

'I can't help it, sir. Such an interesting encounter: my name is June. Does that make me Miss Summer to your Mr Winter?'

'I would have missed summer, had I not sat down beside you and shown you my tome.'

'Your tome was not a very satisfying share, sir. Is there any other way that summer may serve winter?'

'She can tell me is she as young as she looks?'

'How young does she look?'

'12!' He taunted, watching her brow knit together in a frown.

'Beast!'

'Just kidding! 21 then?'

'I'm 13 actually or double that in terms of the number of summers, June has spent. It is legal to buy me drinks.'

'26,' he nodded approvingly. 'And so pretty and petite: my mother is five foot three.'

'I am delightfully diminutive – even shorter than your mommy.'

'I didn't think anybody was shorter than mom.'

'Does every man hanker after his mom?'

'No they hanker after a good girl to satisfy their needs. And I'm sure you are a good girl.'

'I'm as good as you need me to be.'

'Good girl.'

'Here's my number,' he smiled handing her a business card. 'When I get back to the states, call me.'

' Build up my phone bill just for you, sir?'

'Give me your number and I'll ring you. I've never called England before.'

'Ooh - an international virgin dominate?'

'Yes,' he laughed.

'So old and yet so inexperienced,' she giggled

'My needs are an experience in themselves, young lady.'

'I thought that they might be, so I offered you sustenance like a good girl.'

'I don't need too much sustenance. I'll bet I'm over twice your weight, but you can be on top.'

'How nice for me, sir.'

'I was teasing you.'

'Teasing me?'

'Yes...I was teasing you about the possibility of satisfying my sexual proclivities.'

'Was that nice for you, sir?'

'The teasing or were you saying: "thank you, sir"?'

'Take it as you would like to take it, sir.' 'I would like to take it accurately,' he chuckled.

'I would like you to take me accurately, sir. Inaccuracy can be painful.'

'Was your last lover inaccurate?'

'No, sir, he was thirty eight.'

'He was far too young. You need someone older; more mature...someone around the age of say fifty two.'

'Do you have any suggestions, sir?'

'You are too cute,' he laughed.

'I am quite delicious, sir.'

'If you were any more delicious, my heart would overheat.'

'I could practice my CPR on you, if you did, sir.'

'Well that's a relief to know.'

'Do you only want me for relief, sir?'

'No, I only want you for sex.'

'That's very bold, sir, for one with a dodgy ticker.'

'I'll try not to let you over-excite me when you get to sleep with me.'

'I'd be more fun if I stayed awake, sir.'

'I'll bet you would.'

'Unless you have narcoleptic tendencies, of course.'

'I finished my 'narco' therapy some while back. Your sweet behind would be enough to awaken anyone.'

'So spank it later, Mr Winter, sir.'

'I would, but I think you'd enjoy it too much, Miss Summer sweet.'

'Then you had better not, in case you overwhelm me, sir.'

'As you wish.'

'Are you trying to impress me with your sudden restraint sir?'

'No, I'm trying to impress you with my talk of seduction.'

'You seem to do just fine, sir.'

'When did you first realize you enjoyed surrendering?'

'In the womb of course,' June grinned, 'I was probably born to be used.'

'Have you had a lover aged say about 52 before?'

'No, sir, I haven't.'

'I am so glad you are with me now, but I'd to love see those bright eyes as we talked in my home.'

'You might not be able to control yourself, sir.'

'And how would you respond if I started to lose control?'

'That would depend on what you needed, sir, beyond boxed ears that is.'

'I have lots of needs.'

'I'm sure you will uncover them all in time, sir.'

'You are very seductive. I could walk around you all evening.'

'I'd rather you stayed in front where I can keep my eyes on you sir.'

'Keep your eyes on me. I want to remember how mine were on yours for ever.'

'Remind me to send you a web camera for your birthday.'

'That works! I bet you do not go long between guys?'

'You think I'm a slut then?'

'A slut?' He arched his eyebrows. 'No, not at all: I think you are intelligent, sweet, very cute, sexy and, therefore, highly desirable.'

'Switching from man to man. Taking my boots off without even the flick of a whip?

'Only you can answer that.'

'Not if I have my mouth around something nice and hard and filling.'

'Such as?'

'A stick of celery?'

'Celery is not filling. You want something warm to satisfy your appetites.'

'I'm open to suggestions sir.'

'Would you like you hair held firmly? And pulled back and down so you'd have to drop to your knees?'

'I've been known to respond well to such treatment sir.'

'And would you feel good to see me unzip as I held your head in place?'

'Only if I was permitted to look up from the floor, sir.'

'So I could see your eyes bright in the candlelight as I rubbed my cock across your cheeks.'

'I'm sure it's a very big cock, sir.'

'It is: big and hard. Tell me, June. Do you like being a good girl?'

'It's not unpleasant, sir.'

'I like good girls...obedient girls. And I expect them to respond accordingly.'

'Yes sir.'

'And I expect them to answer and not make me ask twice.'

'Are you telling me off, sir?'

'No, not at all: I'm telling you what I expect.'

'And there was me thinking I had been a naughty girl, Mr Winter, sir.'

'You need no less since you have been naughty in more ways than one.'

'Naughty, wicked and bad, then?'

'Yes.'

'I think you like it when I am naughty wicked and bad, sir.'

'Clever girl.'

'Thank you, sir.'

'Now, that wasn't so hard was it, dear?'

'Not as hard as some things, sir.'

'Oh?'

'Like celery for instance.'

He laughed at the wicked look in her eyes.

'Tell me the truth. Do you hope I will force you to your knees one day, my hands on your lovely pantie-clad buttocks?'

'I don't know sir. That would depend.'

'I'd want to put you across my knee and pull your panties down and expose your sweet bottom.'

'I think I'll just let you imagine how wonderfully peachy my tight, little bottom is, sir, for a while.'

'I can imagine.'

'I'm sure you can sir.'

'And I think you'd enjoy getting it spanked.'

'Oh no. I'd hate it sir. I'd hate being pulled over your lap and having you flick my skirt up and rolling my pretty little panties down over my soft young flesh sir - really I would.'

'I'd spank your bottom - not too hard.'

'But not too soft, sir.'

'And I'd slip my fingers down between your cheeks, every so often to see if you are getting wet.'

'That's rather daring of you, sir.'

'It's my right. Any complaints?'

'No, sir.'

'Good girl.'

'Thank you sir.'

'As you get wetter, I'll stick my finger further in and I'd put my thumb by your lips to see your reaction.'

'I might tremble just a little, sir.'

'Ah! Just the hint of a shiver of anticipation – excellent! I'd expect you to suck the thumb with enthusiasm.'

'Let me get you another drink.'

'You're very kind, sir. I'd like something frothy and creamy right now.'

'That's good. You have a face built for blowjobs.'

'So charmingly put, Mr Winter,' June laughed. 'I was thinking of a half of Guinness.'

'Have you ever had someone make you suck another?'

'Suck another Guinness? It has to be ordered first.'

'No. You know exactly what I mean, June.'

'Yes, sir: I do'

'Do you enjoy it?'

'It is a different experience, sir. I like to drink it all down.'

'Geese! I wish I could pack you up and take you home.'

'The pleasure depends on the head and the body.'

'The shaft you mean.'

'Guinness has a shaft, sir?'

'No, you witch!'

'Will you shaft me when you take me home to mommie? Is that who would you have me serve sir?

'No. I've already got her a lousy T-shirt. You would be a gift to myself.'

'Would I, sir?'

'Yes, pet. A gift so delightful the thought of it makes me so hard it hurts.'

'It wouldn't do for me to kneel and unzip you in a bar now would it sir?'

'I can dream.'

'The barman might frown if I pulled your big fat cock out of your pants and licked the underside looking up at you all the time?'

'Yes, but what do I care?'

'You care that I kiss the head of your cock and take it slowly into my tight young mouth, I think, Mr Winter? Look sir: it's all pursed and eager - fresh and unfucked for nearly two months, sir? Imagine how I might rock backwards and forwards on my heels, letting you ease your way in and out as is your pleasure.'

'This is torture.'

'If I licked your balls sir, would that be very bad of me: would you have to tell me to stop sir?

'Not at all, Miss Summer.'

'If my tongue happened to flick behind as you stood over me or if my mouth opened to suckle one nice round testicle at a time sir - licking and tasting and suckling to your heart's desire sir?'

'You are a good girl – a very good girl – making me want you.'

'Thank you sir.'

'If you continue to be this good, I'll come in my pants.'

'That would not be nice sir.'

'I'll let you get on all fours as I inspect you, pet you, probe you...'

'Ooooh. Lucky me.'

'I'll like seeing your back arch and your little bottom stick you in the air as my fingers rub gently and push inside you.'

'You may make me moan and disturb your mama, sir.'

'Good. She's beyond disturbing, given she went to a retirement home several years ago.'

'Of course sir, I forgot for a moment how old you actually were.'

'I'll make you moan, you bitch,' he grimaced angrily. 'Do you want me to fuck you from behind?'

'Only if you don't make me spill my drink, sir.'

'Do you want to feel sir's cock slide inside you as he spanks your bottom? Tell me you want me to fuck you! Do it!'

'I'd rather you fucked off, to be honest, sir.

'Huh?'

'It may leave you crestfallen, but I really don't need your thick cock.'

'You don't?'

'I don't need you to make me lie down on a bed and take off my clothes as you watch for the tightness of my pussy, no matter how much you want to make me spread my legs.'

'You...'

What's the matter sir? Has Alzheimer's interfered with your thought processes? Really, I don't need a crumbly old ruin like you.'

'You really are a total bitch aren't you?'

'How can I help it, sir, when you ask for it so?'

'Sudden cold feet?'

'I kicked my boots off a while back, sir.'

'There is the non-answer answer.'

'Of course, sir.'

'And the real answer is?'

'You are old, you are lonely and you are far from home. And I need to go now, sir.'

'Does the distance between our homes put you off, then?'

'Less so than the proximity between us now, sir.'

'Then, you have my permission to leave, girl.'

'That was taken as a given, Mr Winter, but I thank you.'

'Some women just like to talk the talk, right?'

'I talk the talk. Then I walk the walk sir,' June giggled, as she stood up to make for the door.

'You see,' she smiled over her shoulder at him, flopped back against a cushion in the booth, 'I am that talented you can't have me even with all your cant.'

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AnonymousAnonymousover 12 years ago

Very clever. I enjoyed the play, though, in the end, it was all talk.

ksmyazksmyazover 13 years ago
What titillating wordplay!

I've always considered the brain the biggest sexual organ in the body, and the witty, erudite and erotic verbal repartee an absolute turn-on! I've fantasized about just such a verbose slut all my life, and now that I am coincidentally (?), the same age as "Mr. Winter", I ponder: Is my finding this frustratingly accurate depiction of my own fantasy quest just a random coincidence? Or, is the Fickle Finger of Fate portending my own future Destiny? While I smoke on this...I really hope you'll write more about this wondrous, wordy cunt...!

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