Lisa and Al

Quite domineering, Lisa rudely positioned herself on my face, as though she was an Amazon queen and I her lowly throne. The next thing I knew, I felt the rather forceful grinding motion of her moist pussy against my mouth and lips. Without so much as a conscious decision, I instantly began licking, kissing and sucking on her delicious womanhood. My semi-conscious mind accepting the honor as I lusted for her sweet sex.

Suddenly, she stopped. Pushing against my forehead with her hands, she removed her precious mound from my face. My eyes focused on her as she towered above me like some gorgeous goddess. My eyes noticed the firm breasts as they beckoned for my eager tongue, her full nipples jutting out in arousal.

"You wore the panties all night?" she asked, her question displaying more than a hint of amusement. To tell the truth I was so wrapped up in the ecstasy of the moment the night before that I had forgotten about them. Or perhaps, just possibly, they felt so wonderful on my hips that I felt compelled to leave them on.

With a rather pathetic and confused look on my face I just stared, unable to answer her question. Satisfied with my embarrassment, she laughed at me and returned to her position on my face, swallowing me in the primitive essence of her womanhood. The humiliation suffered by being caught in her underwear was quickly forgotten and eagerly, I abandoned myself—my soul—in finishing the delightful chore of bringing my love to another climax.

Lost in the folds of her delicious pussy, I felt at home. At that exquisite moment, I became her total slave.

When I felt the orgasm shudder through her, Lisa clasped her thighs tightly against my cheeks, squeezing me as if I existed solely for her pleasure and not for my comfort. The pressure intensified the force of her pleasure and felt surprisingly erotic. The liquid of her cum cascaded into my mouth like an electric current and I swallowed eagerly, drifting into a calm state of blissful ecstasy. The warmth of her aftermath remained glued to my face and I was lost in the darkness of her perfect pussy.

Finished with her pleasure, she wiped my face with her glorious cunt, using me like an old towel. Finished at last she stepped off me. Gazing at my soaked face, Lisa reached down and patted my cheek, not too gently, as though I had performed satisfactorily, like a good pet. Without a word, she walked away to take a shower. Of course, my worshipful eyes remained glued to that gorgeous ass as it rotated hypnotically. She strode away, her legs strutting like some imperial queen.

There was an ache throbbing in my heart as I relived her climax, the sensation more vital to me than any of my own passions, in fact, becoming my passion.

My fingers reached for the fabric of the sheer panties and I felt the liquids of my own satisfaction—I had cum at the same time she did, without even touching myself.

After my shower I started getting ready for work. Lisa stood next to me by the dresser as she put on her latest earrings, a gift I bought for her just the other day. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed the tight fitting brown flowered dress that she wore. Her lovely legs were encased in beige nylons and she wore matching brown high heels.

Not realizing that I was so exposed, Lisa surprised me with a chuckle. To my dismay, she was looking at my poor, little warrior. At the moment, he was merely a shrunken caricature of his normal self.

Suddenly, it dawned on me that I had not used the little guy either during the morning encounter or last night—my needs had not been part of the lovemaking!

Lisa told me that I should wear the panties to work and handed them to me. Getting into my business mode, I started to object when she reached over and swatted my bare butt for arguing with her. The skin tingled, as the jolts of pain shot through it. Disturbingly, the sharp slap made me start to grow hard. She laughed as she noticed my reaction. She leaned up against my ear as she caressed my cheek.

"Be a good girl and tonight, I'll let you be my slave girl." Her tongue licked my outer ear, "You'll enjoy that, won't you? And if you're especially good, I'll let you lick everywhere, not just in front." Hot breath blew into my ear and I became incredibly aroused. "I'll let you lick one of your favorite places." She emphasized the word places, and then she left. My face burned yet my insides churned in arousal as I stepped into the panties. What did she mean by some of my favorite places?

Only one explanation seemed possible. Had she been awake that time I kissed her ass?

As I finished dressing, donning regular men's clothes over the sensual panties, I thought about what she said. We had played the slave game before but it was always the same way—she was the slave, begging to suck me off. Now, it seemed, the tables were turned. It used to be that in the bedroom, just as it was at work, that I was the one in charge. I was supposed to be the boss. At least I thought I was.

All day I was conscious of the frilly, sensual, tight panties. My hips felt sexy. My crotch and groin were held snugly in their feminine enclosure. Once, as I was daydreaming, thinking of the night before, Lisa walked by and casually touched my rear as if checking for the silky smoothness. The gesture was intimate and suggestive. Reversing traditional roles, I felt like the shy maiden being assaulted by the manly stud. With a sly grin, she watched as I reddened—totally aware of the fact that she knew I was wearing a pair of her used panties.

Still embarrassed, I watched her as she walked down to the warehouse—a vision of desire. My lust for that gorgeous derriere pushed aside, for the moment, the fact that I didn't appreciate her visiting the warehouse. She glanced back at me as I stared at the vision of her scrumptious ass. She looked down at it as I watched as though indicating future promises. She smiled and nodded at me.

She did know! She knew I kissed her there, on her ass. Did her smirk designate that I was on course to do it again? As her lesbian slave?

The rest of the day I was worthless, spending the entire time reflecting on my new role in her life. For some reason, as I pondered my future, I wondered what it would be like to wear nylons. If the panties felt this good, what would they feel as they covered my smooth legs? Of course, I would have to shave, after all, one did not wear nylons without clean legs.

While I deliberated on such interesting topics, Lisa interrupted my pleasant reverie. A quick call was placed to remind me of the impending evening—informing me that she was looking forward to the game tonight. She said she was eagerly awaiting the special services of her little lesbian slave, especially the oral talents that her servant possessed. She related that my cute little female tongue would be so useful scouring all of her precious areas, and she made a special point of making certain I knew what she meant by all of her areas.

Listening carefully to her wicked and lurid suggestions, I couldn't respond to the comments so I simply held the phone to my ear as my body shivered with carnal desire.

Finally, unable to concentrate on anything but the upcoming meeting, I left work early, not able to contain myself any longer. The emotions I felt were unbelievable. I was constantly aroused, not my cock, it wasn't hard, but my stomach, my heart and my throat felt like bursting.

At home, I decided to enter into the spirit and play the game to the fullest. It wasn't just a conscious decision; it was more importantly, a complete acceptance of her newly found command.

Eagerly, I stripped naked, except for the panties of course, and waited by the door—on my knees, like a good lesbian slave awaiting her mistress. With the patience of Job, I waited in my servile position, ignoring the pain to my knees.

As I knelt there, I felt a sense of calmness, resigning myself to this final fate. It was a big step I was taking, relinquishing control to her. It would appear that I was accepting the position of her slave. This was my due. This is where I belonged, on my knees waiting to worship my beloved Lisa.

Adding a touch of servile class to the scene, I held a tray with a single glass of my most expensive wine on it. Beside it, I placed a single red rose. My decision to succumb to her wicked ways made, I eagerly awaited her arrival.

My heart pounded in anticipation as I heard the key enter the lock and the door slowly open. With a final show of obsequious acceptance, I lowered my head like a good slave as she entered.

My eyes focused on her shiny high heels. Above me, to my surprise, I heard the sounds of two people laughing uproariously. One voice was Lisa's with her wicked chuckle. But there was another, deeper laugh included. Looking beyond her heels, past her luscious legs, I noticed a pair of work boots close behind her. Nervously, as though frightened at the prospect, I glanced up and was mortified.

Lisa was standing alongside a man from work! It was Al, a guy who worked in the warehouse.

Somehow I managed to rise to my feet and stumble awkwardly into the bedroom. With more shame than anger, I slammed the door shut, feeling absolutely humiliated at getting caught on my knees, dressed as a lesbian slave.

The only sounds in the entire house, besides my sobs, were the echoes of awful laughter. The two were greatly amused at my utter humiliation.

To better understand the twists and turns of this particular situation, perhaps I should take a moment to clarify certain pertinent details. At work, I'm the general manager of our middle-sized business, basically the head man of the operation although I report to the president who resides in another state. Al, the man with the boots, works downstairs in the warehouse, driving a forklift.

More than once, I've seen him flirt with Lisa which is the reason I don't appreciate her going down there. However, against my wishes and disregarding my disapproval, it seemed as though she was constantly finding reasons to troop on down to the warehouse. When I question her she always gives me good explanations of why she has to be there, but I still don't like it.

To add to my sense of dismay, Al has been acting real cocky and confident around me the last couple of weeks. Almost contemptuously, he always wears the most disdainful smirk when I ask him to do something. He stares with boredom as I try to explain what it is that I want him to do. It was a constant challenge to get him to take me seriously. If I didn't know better, I would think he was daring me somehow to push the issue.

For some reason, his behavior, his demeanor, makes me very nervous. It's obvious that he wants Lisa; I see how he watches her, flirts with, how they are always laughing together. He's aware that Lisa and I are together yet he acts like she is fair game. The only argument Lisa and I ever had was over him. For the life of me, I couldn't understand why she didn't make him leave her alone.

Maybe I can see the attraction. Al's a husky guy with well-developed muscles that bulge from his tight t-shirt. He's actually shorter than me but he's obviously quite a bit stronger. Physically, he is vastly superior to me, we are both well aware of that fact. He lifts weights and works out so he's in great shape. My time is spent behind a desk and it shows in the way my muscles are relatively soft—I'm not in the best of shape. Because of his good looks and physical strength, he has a very commanding way about him.

Because I'm the boss, I should hold the upper position between the two of us. But I am a bit cowed when I'm around him.

The feeling of intimidation started the first time he and I met. With one look, we both knew he could take me, probably easily. Guys have a way of establishing a physical pecking order much the way the animals in the wild do, say the wolf pack or the lion's pride.

Al made it obvious in many ways to both of us, some subtle, some not so subtle, that he is the stronger one. Plus, like I said, he has a way about him. I get the feeling that he knows something about me that I don't. With a feral instinct, he senses my fear and takes advantage of it. To anyone observing, it seems more like he is the boss and not the other way around.

The other night was a good example. Lisa wanted to stop at a tavern on the way home. Usually we frequent restaurants or upper class bars but for some reason, she steered us to a neighborhood joint. A lot of the warehouse guys hung out there so I was somewhat disconcerted with her selection. But, at this point in the relationship, I was pretty much doing whatever she wanted.

Once inside, Lisa seemed to know exactly where she wanted us to go. Not waiting for me, she headed toward the back where the pool tables were located. The way she proceeded directly to the area made it seem as though she had been there before. It was at this time that I wondered whether some of those late nights she stayed out might have been spent in this very tavern.

To my dismay, Al was there along with a couple of his buddies. Lisa sat at a table near theirs and I joined her. A waitress arrived to take our order. Before I could decide what to drink Lisa ordered a pitcher of beer for us and one for the other table. Beer was not my drink of choice because I tended to get a bit tipsy drinking it. But I wasn't consulted so when it came I drank heartily.

When we arrived, Al and the guys welcomed Lisa eagerly. Me, quite a bit less so. Within minutes, a challenge was thrown out and a pool game was arranged between Al and I. Needless to say, he won handily. My skill was less than adequate and each miss on my part was cause for raucous laughter by the warehouse men.

The winner, Al, got to play Lisa while I watched and drank. Sitting across the table from where Lisa took her first shot I got a good look at the way her firm breasts filled out the tight sweater she wore. She leaned over the table to line up her shot. She missed the ball badly, cursing as she did. Al chuckled and strode over to help her.

"You need to hold the stick like this," he said as he bent over to show her. The problem I had with the way he was instructing her was that as he demonstrated the proper way to hold the stick, he was leaning against her. His groin just happened to line up perfectly with her gorgeous ass.

"See?" he said as he held her hand and guided it forward, indicating how to take the shot. As he showed her, he seemed to press even harder against her lovely rear end.

"I think I get it, but show me again please." Lisa requested. Either she was a slow learner or he was a poor teacher because the shot took an awful long time before the stick struck the ball. If I was the worrying sort I would have suspected they enjoyed the rather intimate position they were in. Finally, to the relief of all, she took the shot.

The rest of the evening went fairly much the same. Lisa spent most of the evening playing pool with Al and the guys while I drank and drank. Pitchers kept appearing at the tables seemingly without being ordered. Al and Lisa drank the least as they concentrated on the game. Lisa did indeed prove to be a slow learner, as she constantly needed Al's help, always with him bent over her.

Fuming inwardly, I recognized that I should control the situation, stop Lisa's cavorting, after all I am the general manager. The problem is that lately things seem to be changing between us. Just a couple of days ago Al made some comment in front of all three of us about Lisa needing to be with a 'real man'. Lisa was close enough to overhear the remark and watched closely my reaction. About all I did was turn red with embarrassment as she examined the both of us carefully.

The confrontation was too significant to ignore, especially with her right there. I felt that I needed to stand up to him otherwise I risked losing Lisa. With firm resolve, I intended to fire him on the spot.

Unfortunately, it didn't work out that way. As I walked up to him I stumbled over a piece of wood on the floor, falling to my knees right at his feet. For a brief second my face was inches from his work boots. He smirked as I tried to stand, lifting his toe so it brushed against my lips. To add to the utter humiliation, Lisa observed the entire episode, including what appeared very much to be a servile and surrendering kiss to his boot. Trying to get up, I thought I heard a tiny giggle coming from Lisa.

When I finally got to my feet, I glanced into his eyes sort of timidly, trying to summon the courage to read him the riot act. He stared at me with a cold, haughty look. His eyes narrowed in defiance as if challenging me, daring me to say anything to him. His lips curled in a vicious, superior sneer as he waited for my response. As I stood looking down on him, because I am taller, I actually felt a lot smaller than him. My face was still red and I was losing control of the situation without even saying anything. Lisa watched us from a few feet away, her face lighting up, her breath growing shallower and her eyes dilating. It almost seemed, for some reason, as though she were turned on by the bizarre episode.

Still without a word spoken, I felt a shudder of fear and impotence flow through me as I gazed into his feral eyes. Remaining mute, I was unable to speak, afraid of him. He quietly spoke to me.

"What's the matter, little man? You got something to say to me?" His hand reached out and patted my cheek, first gently and then with a final sharp smack. "No? I didn't think so. You're such a pussy." He laughed softly as he realized I was shaking in fear of him. The pen he held in his hand sort of slipped and fell to the floor. He watched me carefully as I followed its fall. He waited eying me knowingly.

"Pick it up," he said. Embarrassed, yet unable to prevent myself, I bent over and picked it up. As I handed it to him he smiled in victory making sure Lisa saw the whole affair. Almost too frightened, I peeked a quick look at her. She was excited. Whether her arousal stemmed from my condescending behavior or his superior attitude, I didn't know. Al, not satisfied with my servile retrieval, continued his taunting.

"Aren't you going to show your woman what kind of a man you are?" He slapped my face again. "Or are you already? What's the matter, don't you have any balls? Or maybe you don't have any cock. Pussy." He snorted in disgust, as I turned red and slunk away. I couldn't bear to look at Lisa and I wondered if she heard his comments. She had to. Pausing for a moment, I tried to get her to join me but she pulled away and remained behind. As I glanced back they seemed to be laughing and Lisa seemed to be awfully close to him, almost leaning against his arm with her breast. Surprisingly, although completely embarrassed and totally humiliated, my little soldier had never been more aroused.

That happened a few days ago, right around the time Lisa and my relationship changed. Now Al was at our house and had seen me dressed only in panties and on my knees. I sat there on the bed with all sorts of different emotions coursing through me. Lust, shame, arousal, humiliation, male ego, panty fetish, all fought their way around in my head, in my soul and mainly in my groin, feeding on each other, and even fueling each other.

To say that I was confused was an understatement. Staring down into a deep abyss of debasement and degradation, I felt myself floating off of the edge of the precipice. Part of me wanted to fall into that pit and surrender to the perversions waiting there. Part of me struggled to regain some self-respect. Not being able to decide for myself, I sat there silently, tears flowing down my face. Which way was I going to go, which path was I going to travel.

After fifteen minutes or more of anguish, Lisa finally joined me. It seemed that her hair was a little tousled but I didn't pay any attention to it because I was so flustered. As she looked me over, I realized I was still dressed in my panties. Her eyes wandered down and rested on my crotch. Unbelievably, I was hard! She shook her head as if she suddenly realized something important about me.