City Of Angels Ch. 5

After a long night of watching DVDs, snacking on strawberry ice cream, fucking, and light bondage, Michael cooked breakfast while Vanessa opened the mail.

“Oh, look an invitation to Rhonda Eaton’s birthday party. The party’s I can’t believe she’s going to be 50 – she’s one I always pictured her as 25 forever.”

Rhonda ..I know Rhonda – she’s a sweet lady. She was my manager when I first moved here."

“You wanna go together as a couple?” It was one of the few times Michael had addressed her as a woman, not as his mistress. She stood there fresh scrubbed, free of make-up and jewelry in jeans and a cut off T-shirt. That gave him the strength to say that, to remember when he had first seen her at the club.

She smiled. “I’d love to go to the party as your girlfriend…but when we get back home I will be your mistress.”

“Always, always my love.” He kissed her hand.

“I’ll met you there at ten on Thursday,” Vanessa stroked his newly wavy black hair. “Ya know, I’m glad you grew your hair out – it’s incredibly sexy. “She kissed his forehead.

“You have no intention of behaving in front of our friends, do you?” Michael said, letting his hand wander down to her ass.

“Of course not – because I know you’ll be even naughtier.” Vanessa grabbed her fringed suede purse. “I have to go to work now. See you at Rhonda’s party”

She bounced toward the door, all big juicy ass and sweet, proud tits. Even underneath jeans and a T-shirt, her body tempted him as no other woman’s had.

“I’ll be your girlfriend at the party, but when we get home I’m your mistress again.”

The concept intrigued him.

Rhonda’s party was held at the Beverly Hills home of some friends of hers – a show biz couple, yes, but they held very old fashioned Midwestern values, and their home reflected it. After a barbecue and the perfunctory post-dinner conversations between acquaintances, most of the attendees left. Vanessa and Michael took refuge in the bedroom after Rhonda and the hosts wandered outside.

"This is a very cozy, All-American bedroom – look at this bedspread.” Vanessa ran her hand over the white velvet comforter. “Pure as the driven snow.” Her breast slithered out of her silky halter top.

Michael sat down next to Vanessa, inching closer to kiss her. The scent of her musky perfume comforted him, he felt uneasy in such a bland, woodgrain bedroom. The couple who shared this bed were surely as sterile and plain as the décor – such people were a total mystery to him. What if they happened upon two heathens engaged in unnatural acts on their bed?

The thought made his dick hard.

I locked the door,” Vanessa whispered, “and Rhonda’s friends have taken her next door to admire their neighbors garden.”

Every cell in his body seethed with anticipation. Her fingers played upon his crotch, teasing and warm. Vanessa unbuckled his belt. “Slip those trousers off and scoot over my lap.”

“You lied to me. You said you weren’t going to be my mistress again until we got home.”

“I had the best intentions, Michael. But you turn me into a savage. You do it on purpose. ”

A flicker of light from the votive candle on the nightstand illuminated her bare breast. The silhouette of it stained the wall next to the painting of a Maine lighthouse. Nothing would make her happier than to temporarily sully this wholesome bedroom. And if that made her happy, it would make him estactic. He slipped off his pants and then his boxers. She motioned for him to hand them to her. Michael watched her obediently. Under her guard, he never felt happier. The joy, the child-like waiting to see what she would do next, consumed him.

Gently, reverently, she rubbed the material against her now exposed breasts, then dropped the clothes on the floor in a neat pile.

“Oh, that’s a GORGEOUS lemon tree!” Rhonda’s patented deep-pitched but gleeful voice drifted in through the bedroom window.

“The windows halfway open…” Michael whispered. He reached over to close it. “No, don’t do that,” Vanessa grabbed his wrist. “We’ll need a cool breeze in a few minutes..or rather, you will.”

She patted her lap. “Hurry and get those buns up here.”

Michael still wanted to call her bluff when she pulled stunts like this, but always stopped himself when he thought of her reaction. Oh yeah, she’d be mad and leave him tied to the cross all night, or lock him in the stock, naked and blindfolded. But the worst punishment of all loomed large – her disappointment. How could he fail his mistress?

The bedsprings creaked as he crawled toward her. The white velvet underneath his hands was too stale, too lifeless. The warm black satin sheets and leopard fur throws on the bed on home signaled sex, but these accoutrements were a definite stop sign.

Michael edged his body across her, sliding his ass on her lap. His cock brushed snugly against the cool suede of her skirt. Then her hand came down, sharp and reassuring on his bum.

“And don’t you dare make a sound! You’re not going to disturb our friends with your wimpering.”

Michael curled his lips together, and anticipated the next blow. It came, harder and swifter. Tears pooled in his eyes – the reaction to his blessed pain had to appear somehow.

“There, there, my sweet, am I hurting you?” Vanessa rubbed her hands over his red bottom. “You are so sensitive for such a big, strong man.” The cool of her painted fingernails against his ass made him squirm. She noticed this and pinched him slightly with her nail tips.

Voices grew louder from outside from underneath the window. Rhonda engaging her neighbors in a discussion about her rose bushes. Vanessa smiled and slipped her hands over his balls, bouncing and caressing them. He moaned and whispered her name.

“Sssh.” Vanessa slapped his ass again, a light volley. The look on his face when she spanked him always intrigued her – that curious combination of orgasm and pain.

The screen door slammed shut. Rhonda’s voice – and the click-clack of her pumps grew closer. Vanessa pulled his body tight against her lap with one arm. With the other, she spanked him wildly, carelessly, with evil intent. He grimaced, holding in the screams. She licked her lips, making sure that he saw her through the welled up tears in her eyes.

Then she let go of his body and backed away from him. Michael cushioned his fall with his arms, the only parts of his body that had strength left.

Vanessa stood by the dresser, slipping on her blouse and shoes as though nothing had happened. Michael followed her lead, never taking his eyes off her cool figure as she admired herself in the mirror.

Silently and separately, they walked into the dining room.

Rhonda emptied pototaoe chips into a glass bowl. She motioned to Vanessa, and spoke to her quickly, before Michael entered the room.

“I hope I wasn’t being rude – running off without inviting you two…now will I have to clean up after you? I wouldn’t want the Sagers to think my other friends are rude.”

“No, we were very neat..but you may have to spray holy water in the bedroom to cleanse it of lust.”

“That’s my girl.” Rhonda high-fived her. ”You are carrying on a fine tradition.”