A Fantasy about Love Pt. 13

"Oh Lord and Master, you can start anything now, and you can even finish it!"

It was a lazy night and we talked about ourselves, about Maureen and Eileen, but principally about ourselves. When the champagne was finished, we got out and went back to the bedroom. I called Jane and asked for dinner to be served in fifteen minutes. She said that they had selected assorted cheeses from Australia; would that be satisfactory? I agreed and when we finished our shower, there was no fooling around, only pure business! I waited for Jenny and when she appeared, she was eye-filling in her grey gown, transparent enough that I could see her breasts clearly and a long slit in the middle, so that her pussy appeared whenever she moved.

Dinner was served, the wines were at the right temperature and the cheeses looked delicious. I thanked Jane (it must still have been Jane because it was her voice), put a Mozart flute concerto into the stereo and we enjoyed the dinner. There was an additional half bottle of red wine with a note. "You might enjoy this wine with the sheep cheese." We did and then retired to the living room. I called Jane again and said that we would stay there for some time, listening to music. She said that she understood and that the bedroom was already served; we could go back there whenever we wanted. The dining room would then be cleaned within the next five minutes and nobody would disturb us.

We reclined on the lounge and Jenny leaned against me. I put one arm around her, cupping her breast. I thought it might be a good idea if I used that opportunity and started to stroke it lightly.

She turned halfway to me and kissed me. "You can start and finish it, my love." Her nipple hardened and she purred satisfied with my move; her soft lips welcomed mine and her tongue came out inviting mine to battle. We kissed, tasting and touching, and enjoyed the moment, but then she moved back and shrugged off her gown. "Now, darling, will you please make love to me?"

I bent down and kissed her stiff nipples and then she moved onto my lap. She looked down and saw George already at attention. She was visibly excited, and her tangy scent came up to my face. A small move upwards and she pointed George at her entrance; then she moved slowly downwards again, and I slipped into her. I pushed up to meet her and George found the necessary slickness to penetrate her easily. Her face showed her satisfaction when I bottomed out and she smiled at me.

"James, you're now where you belong; please never leave me!" I kissed her again, deeply embedded.

"Jenny, how could I ever leave you? You, the one I love so much! We'll always be together, you and I."

She started her rhythm again and I leaned back, letting her determine what she wanted. Her face was showing her tension, and with her eyes closed, her parted lips were proof of her pleasure and rising arousal. "James..." her voice was breathy and reverent, and her moves became more urgent, less lazy. Her eyes fluttered open, her face tilted down. Her still parted lips curled upward at their outermost edges.

"My Lord and Master."

"Yes, my lady?"

"I want you, and I want you now!"

"Your wish is my command, my lady!"

I felt her hot walls surrounding my shaft, massaging it, teasing it. She held me close as I pushed up; she responded in equal measure, keeping me deep inside her. Closing her eyes, a moan escaped her. "My love, please take your woman, your wife, your slave!" and she wrapped her arms around me, holding me tight as she moved faster and faster until she came, not loud but intensely. I followed her, shooting my semen up her tight hot walls. She felt this and came once more, becoming rigid for a moment before she was able to unwind and fall against my chest. When she looked up finally, there was a tear in her eye. I was concerned, but she only said: "My love, this is a tear of happiness, not of pain or sadness."

After a while, her body relaxed, and she kissed me. We looked at each other and both said at the same time "Thank you."

She smiled again. "My Lord and Master, have I served you faithfully?"

"My lady, I do not object to the 'Lord and Master' term (and which consequences you normally ignore), but I do object to the term 'serve'. You don't serve me, you love me. We make love, we don't serve one another. Is that clear, Jenny?"

She was surprised about my stern manner, but I wanted to make this completely clear. "Is that clear, Jenny?"

She nodded, but hiding her head against my shoulder, I heard her whispering... "You can say whatever you want, but I want to serve you, and I will!"

I picked her up and carried her to the bedroom - immaculately made up again. I picked up a washcloth in the bathroom, but she stopped me. "I want to sleep with your seeds in me, filling me up."

I nodded to whatever she wanted, but as Plan B I kept the cloth beside the bed. If she woke up at night, she might change her mind because sleeping on a wet spot is not always very enjoyable. She smiled: "Local Rules apply here also!" and gave me her breasts for my caresses, and lay back, tired and happy.

We fell asleep, holding each other tight. When I woke up during the night a sliver of moonlight peeked between the curtains and left a pale white line across the floor. I looked at her: hair going every which way, lips still swollen from out love making, a small smile on her lips: she was absolutely beautiful. I kissed her lightly on her lips and mumbling something, she continued to sleep.

When I woke up, Jenny was still asleep with her head on my chest, one arm draped over me, and my hand cradling her neck. I had put a light sheet over our bodies at night, but now it was at the bottom of the bed, exposing Jenny's gorgeous body to my sight. I never knew when she was more beautiful: when she was awake, smiling, when she was concentrating on her work, or when she was asleep, completely relaxed, but I was always happy to look at her. She must have felt that I was gazing at her and opened one eye.

"Good morning, my love. Do I have to wake up?"

"Well, the sun has come up, my stomach is grumbling, and I'll order breakfast to be served in thirty minutes. Do you want to sleep in?"

She opened her other eye. "You know that you are a cruel master? I served you ... no, I loved you faithfully last night and you want to rip me out of my well-deserved bed? When will I ever the recognition I merit?"

I grinned. "Jenny, you can stay in bed if you want. I'll order waffles, eggs and bacon, some fruit and I'll see if any of that champagne is still left. Let me know when you want to get up."

Now it was her turn to grin. "How will you order breakfast if I'm still in bed and you want to go to the other room?"

I smiled at her words, as she was obviously not completely awake. "I just tell them to make up the bedroom later, my dear." She smacked her head, mumbling "Stupid, stupid..." I waited for her response and she slowly sat up, still mumbling probably impolite words.

I mentioned the 'Lord and Master' phrase and she was quiet. Then she tried another track. "If I am very nice to you, can I sleep another hour?"

I shook my head. "You are always nice to me."

She tried again. "If I'm really very, very nice to you, can I sleep another hour?"

I responded. "Darling, you're most of the time really very, very nice to me, so there is no change."

Last try. "I can be nasty to you, too, even if you have not seen that yet. Please let me sleep."

I nodded. "A serious, but not very believable threat. I doubt, my love, that you can be nasty to me. Remember that I'm your Lord and Master (at least theoretically) and that you love me? In any case, I'll let you sleep as long as you want, I'll just have my breakfast in 30 minutes -no, make that 28 minutes."

She got up, mumbling all the time. When she was at the bathroom door, I whistled. She tried to be angry, but turned around with a smile. She looked down and asked me: "What did you do to me? Look at my pussy and my legs: why did you do this?" I reminded her that I had offered to clean us, but that she had declined my generous offer. Finally, she decided to wake up; and coming over to me, offered her breasts for my kisses and then told me to wait for her a moment. I did and when she came out, she was the shining beauty I was accustomed to seeing. She looked for something to dress and selected her little transparent bolero with the short skirt that almost reached to her pussy.

"Satisfied, oh Lord and Master, or do you want me to be nude to serve you ... I mean breakfast, my love."

There was an almost silent bell to announce that breakfast was ready, and we moved to the other room, advising Jane (or at least to someone who had her voice) that we were having breakfast now. There were the dishes I had ordered and a new bottle of champagne in the cooler; not the Krug, but a nice Heidsieck. We had fun and Jenny decided to sit on my lap.

"You threw me out of my bed; now you have to feed me!"

It was not easy, but I managed. There was a small problem, however, when she moved as there was a continuous rubbing of her ass on my penis and after a while, it grew to a reasonable size. She observed this, obviously, and had her fun trying to get me excited. I played along until I decided that I could pay back: I lifted her and placed my shaft at her entrance and settled her back on my lap, now again deeply embedded. She tried to continue to behave normally - as long as you can call the situation normal: a woman, almost nude, sitting on a man's lap and being slowly taken, but it did not last long. She leaned back and lifting one leg over my shoulder and to my other side, she moved around until she sat more comfortably on my shaft and started to move. Her lips glued to mine and it did not take long for her to shudder and fall over the cliff.

I was not ready yet and when she realized that, she started again, now with my enthusiastic cooperation. I filled her up and she was shaking.

"James, what are you doing to me? Losing all common decency? Making love on the breakfast table - no, having breakfast at the table? You are leading me to debauchery!" She thought a moment. "Considering the opportunity, will you take me tomorrow morning on the breakfast table? We've never done this before!"

I was surprised, to say the least, and stared at her; please remember that I was still inside her.

She shrugged. "Eileen told me what could be done between a couple and whilst I'm not interested in everything, some of the recommendations are tempting. Let me think about this."

When she saw my face, she hugged me. "Darling, I'm not Eileen. Whatever I'll want to do, we do it together, and with love. A little spice might be different; remember that the only man who had me and whoever will have me, is you. I still have to learn to please you, my love!"

I had to think about this, but the offer was appealing. Then she surprised me again.

"Darling, I want some tea and please put butter on my toast."

There must have been something in the air: my Jenny was still having some aftershocks running through her body and I was still reasonably stiff in her. And she wanted tea and toast? The young people of today were different! I served her and she was satisfied, leaning into me. She looked at the champagne and I gave her that, too.

Finally, my penis dropped out of her and a flood of semen followed. She shrieked and ran to the bathroom and I was very grateful that the bedroom was already serviced. I followed her, advising Jane (?) and we had a shower together. We dressed casually: she with my favorite pullover she had stolen from Maureen, which had these big holes in it and with the right moves I could play with her nipples. I put the Tchaikovsky Swan Lake ballet into the sound system, and we had another long conversation about our past, our present, and our future. She remembered everything: when she had entered the company, how she was selected as my secretary, and how I helped her with her almost-fiancé, and how Maureen and I had helped her to get out of her funk. She smiled when she remembered the first Saturday with Maureen and how they ended up being drunk, and the Sunday when she finally fell in love with me. Her eyes teared over when she told me about how Maureen had offered her to spend the night with me, and how wonderful that had been.

"After that night, James, I was yours, completely yours. You can do with me whatever you want as long as I can stay with you. And life has been improving every month: your promotion, my promotion, the love I received from Maureen, and suddenly I'm your wife, even if this is just between the three of us. And now I'm rich! Not your kind of rich, but rich by my standards. I know already what I'll buy for you and for Maureen."

She hugged me and started to sob; not heartfelt painful sobs, but happy, positive tears. We finished the champagne and I wondered whether she wanted to have lunch in the restaurant, and she declined. "Then I have to dress up and I don't want to, at least not today. Perhaps dinner tomorrow night?"

I concurred and since lunch time was coming up, we spent time with the menu.

She glanced at me. "James, I have money now. Can I pay for lunch? I want to try the caviar and it must be very expensive. There are no prices here, but I know that it's very expensive."

I shook my head. "Maureen gave you an all-expenses paid stay at this spa. She told me that if you came up with this idea, to tell you to shut up and to make certain that you do, to kiss you until you agree. So shut up!" and I kissed her, and she did.

That problem was resolved: caviar for my lady. When she wanted to try the pigeon, I recommended against it: pigeons have no meat, are time wasting to eat and in my past, I was never satisfied. This is a dish where they force you to order another dish afterwards, so that you are not hungry after the meal. Finally, she decided on the orange duck.

There was a serious argument brewing up about the matching wine for her dish. She wanted the Pinot Noir again and I recommended a Gewürztraminer from the Alsace. They had the Zind-Humbrecht Hengst Grand Cru, but she wanted a Pinot Noir. I told her to try a Beck Burgenland Pinot Noir from Austria, but she hesitated. In desperation and to end the debate I ordered both bottles. I wanted the grilled oysters in a caviar jelly (and Jenny smiled approvingly) and the wagyu beef in a layer of Veal liver with its own juice. As a dessert, she wanted the Pecan Pie and I the Marzipan cake. There was a Tokaji five puttonyos that might fit. I picked up the phone and called Jane (?) and ordered our choices. I imagined her nodding as she wrote it down and when I came to the wines (Dom Perignon for the starter and the Gewürztraminer and the Beck Pinot Noir) she took a deep breath.

"Sir, I'm surprised by your wine choices. May I run this by our sommelier in case he has more suggestions?" I did not like that she questioned my choices and told her that I knew my wines. I also ordered cheeses to finish the wines and an Armagnac with coffee. Now she was quiet. "Yes, Sir. At what time should it be served?"

I looked at Jenny. "13:00." She repeated my order and I hang up (perhaps I should have listened to the sommelier?), but I was certain that the choice was fine.

Later we went back to change, and Jenny now appeared with a lovely dark red short dress that had no front as her breasts were completely exposed and practically no back. She could wear it: her long black hair combined with the dark red dress, and she must have put makeup on her areolae since they were much darker than before. There was also now a shadow between her breasts, emphasizing her proud bearing.

I took a deep breath. "Jenny, one day you'll kill me with these dresses. You're so beautiful on your own and this just magnifies your beauty. She grinned. "Do you want me to take it off? Just open this button and it is gone!"

I shook my head, reminding her that I loved to look at her dressed or undressed; perhaps after lunch, she could change to something more comfortable? She knew what I meant.

"You can do this after lunch, darling. I've been told that oysters restore a man's vigor and you'll need it, my love."

The bell sounded and we went to have lunch. There were the covered dishes on rechauds and wines in the cooler. I saw a note attached: 'Sir, you made courageous, but excellent choices. My compliments!'

Jenny enjoyed her caviar, a dish I liked, but never had enough money to order it. My wife, however, had tons of it, so there was the caviar. My oysters were excellent, and the Dom Perignon matched both dishes. She liked the duck and we proved both wines: the Pinot Noir was surprisingly full-bodied, with cherry and violet tastes. The Zind-Humbrecht had remote notes of Poire William and ripe apricots, glowing to ripeness in our mouths. Both were right for the duck. I really had learned a lot during the last year.

My beef was wonderfully marbled and an extraordinarily taste, with a tender structure and just at the right point. How did they do this? It had been standing on the rechaud, which admittedly was not very hot, for twenty minutes and it was just right: medium rare. Wonderful. The Pinot Noir with its dark red fruit notes matched the almost fatty meat perfectly and Jenny could not decide which one she liked best. The cakes were excellent but filling, and the burnished amber colored Tokaji's nose was as rich and intense as the color, full of ripe apples, pears, and honey with a long finish. Yummy.

There was the coffee to finish and I tried the Armagnac; it had to be at least a Napoleon or even an XO. Jenny proved it but didn't like it, since she detested distilled liquors. There must have been some awful experiences in her past.

It was difficult to move after this extraordinary meal and Jenny suggested that we retired and tried a siesta. I called Jane (? did she ever leave that desk?) and thanked her for lunch. She hesitated. "Sir, I know that you know your wines, but your choices were far from ordinary and I did ask the sommelier. He was disturbed at first, but then he told me that he would never have thought about these matches, but they were excellent. I apologize, but I tried to help. My compliments, Sir."

We went back to our bedroom and Jenny point to the button on her dress. If I touched it and said 'Shazzam' it would fall down. I said 'Shazzam' and it worked! There she was in her nude glory, looking at me. "What do you want to do now? Siesta? Make love? Whatever you want, darling."

I thought about the options and she became impatient. "Decide, darling, or you lose your choice!"

I grinned. "Have patience, little grasshopper!" Now she hit me, which cause her breasts to wriggle in a most interesting way.

"If you do this once more, I shall be very angry at you..." she hesitated "...at least for the next five minutes." I laughed and she joined me. "Let's lie down and see what will happen." We did and what happened was that we fell asleep.

I woke up with a wonderful feeling down south. Jenny looked up from where she was stroking my shaft. "James, go to sleep again. George and I have a private conversation."

This was a ridiculous suggestion, but I accepted it, waiting for what might happen. She was talking to it tenderly, kissing it, inhaling it, licking every drop that appeared, and in general, made love to it. George obviously liked it and showed her that he was ready for more action. She looked at me. "James, don't do anything. Now I want to make love to you."

She took it once more in her mouth and then sat up, sitting on my hips and placing George before her outer lips, pulling them slowly apart with her fingers. She looked at me and unhurriedly sank down. Her inner walls were tight and hot, and George was eagerly filling them until he hit bottom. She closed her eyes and started to move with her own rhythm, slowly at first and then accelerating. She bent forward and offered me her breasts, with her nipples already protruding close to an inch. When I took one into my mouth, she moaned. "Yes, James, suck it. Bite it."