Feminist Revolution

FEMINIST REVOLUTION

I've always been proud that I was called a feminist; I was raised by a liberal woman who fought for women's equality in the 1960's; and I scratched and clawed my way up the corporate ladder through the 1990's to become a senior vice-president.

I've worn a lot of political hats through the years; from my teen years when I fought for employment equality; to my middle adult when women battled for social equality. Now, in my early fifties I make sure everyone I work with knows to judge me on my abilities; not on my skirt.

That doesn't mean I walk around in steel toed boots and flannel shirts; it means I have a steel heart and thick skin. I've raised my children to believe in the ability to choose their own destiny and their own identity.

I've never in my life knelt to anyone, especially a man; which is why my current position is so unbelievable even to me. Here I am, kneeling in the middle of a suburban living room; while a man mounts me like an animal in heat. He's roaring what a whore I am; and all I can do is babble and whimper my agreement.

My name is Andrea Bernard-Montgomery; yes I hyphen it. At fifty-two I had reached what I considered to be the peak of my professional and personal life. I was the senior vice-president of a bank; I had a Master's Degree in economics and finance; I was married to a civil engineer; and we lived in the upper middle class suburbs outside Denver.

I've been called Andrea, mom; Ms. Bernard; and don't forget Ice Queen and Bitch to add the names behind my back. I really don't give a shit about the names; I did about the disrespect. In fact it was my frustration with that; that had started me to where I am now.

While I didn't really care about the names, when the disrespect started to become the "talk" then it became a concern. I had spoken to Human resources about it, and frankly they were about as helpful as a text book; I had even spoken to Spencer my husband, his solution was to simply fire them. While that idea had appeal to me, I did admit that some of them were very skilled and I hated the idea of losing that talent for the office.

It was my oldest son Andrew who surprised me. At twenty-five and a Master's in Psychology; he seemed to be the perfect choice to talk to about the growing situation. What he told me startled my ordered mind.

"You need to loosen up mom" he said calmly. "It doesn't always have to be your way you know."

"What if my way is the right way" I retorted.

"Then yeah you need to push that" Andrew said calmly. "But had it occurred to you there is more than one way?" he asked.

"What do you mean" I didn't totally understand.

"Look" Andrew said with a sigh. "Say you and I are going to Colorado Springs." He was patient as he explained.

"You take Interstate 25, but I take highway 83. We both get there, so what's the problem" his explanation made sense, but I saw a flaw.

"My route is faster" I smiled back.

"You're justifying yourself" Andrew shocked me. "There is nothing wrong with my route; you are justifying yours to make me use it."

"I am not" I defended myself. "My route is better."

"For YOU its better" Andrew corrected me. "Not for me; after all you are the one who pushes for individuality; and yet you now push for conformity. Your conformity" he drilled home.

Dear God, he was right; I was horrified. Years of preaching against conformity, and here I was the enemy now enforcing it; it terrified me. Like all things in my life, my immediate solution was to attack the problem head on. I set a weekly appointment with Andrew so we could get this out in the open to be dealt with; and I started making a conscious effort to monitor how I was reacting to outside ideas.

It didn't take long for me to realize I had become the one thing I had hated the most. During two separate meeting, solutions to a problem were proposed by others that were quite functional and I had the immediate desire to shoot down, because they were not MY idea.

I spoke to Andrew about this during our session, even if they were informal. Andrew would come by the house and I made a point of leaving early on the Wednesday he had available. We would spend an hour or two chatting and doing something together.

It was both therapeutic and enlightening to me. Andrew seemed to have the ability to see to the heart of an issue, but his approach was so unique it never entered my mind.

"Its control mom, you always have to be in control" Andrew said that Wednesday.

"So, how do I let others be in control" I asked "and still make sure there is safety and the job is done right?"

Andrew looked down at the flowers we were planting in the back yard.

"You're going to be short flowers" he said calmly.

"I know" I sighed. "I will have to get more this weekend."

"The nursery is only a half an hour away, let's go" he told me.

I thought a moment, and then rose to my feet. "Let me change" I said.

"No" Andrew stopped me in mid step. "You don't need to change to complete the objective" he stared at me.

"But I'm not dressed" I complained.

I was wearing a pair of jean shorts and a light blouse that had dirt smeared on it. The idea of being in public in such a state was something I would never do.

"It's not your decision" Andrew just continued to stare at me. "Let's go."

Oh God I realized, he was testing me. I swallowed hard and nodded. Silently I followed Andrew to the driveway and climbed into the passenger seat of his car. All through the drive I tugged at the hem of my shorts and brushed at my blouse.

"You'll be fine" Andrew said calmly

We wandered through the nursery, and in picking the flowers I soon forgot how I was dressed; just admiring the flowers. Flowers always had been an escape for me. With our choices selected, I stood in line with Andrew, suddenly very aware of my tight shorts and thin blouse. I caught a couple of men staring, and scowled at them.

"You know" Andrew leaned down and said in a whisper. "You happen to have a nice body, they aren't groping you, let up" his voice was calm but strong.

Back in the car, I looked at Andrew as he drove. How he had so calmly spoken of my physical appearance had surprised me. I thought I had taught them to look beyond that.

"Don't you think...that was...inappropriate" I asked slowly.

"What?" Andrew seemed actually surprised by my comment.

"Your comment; about my body" I looked at him.

"What, I could have said you have a great set of legs, or a great ass" his eyes never left the road.

"Andrew" I gasped.

"Two ways to say the same thing" he said back.

"I'm your mother" I was shocked.

"You're a woman" he said so matter of fact "A woman who spends three days a week at a fitness club, and works out at home." He glanced over at me. "A woman who eats right and takes care of herself." His eyes flitted over my body, sending a shiver through me.

"Why all the work if you didn't want to be appreciated" he asked.

I had to think about that, why do I take such pains in my appearance; and yet become angry when someone looks at me.

"I'm not a slab of meat" I said angrily.

"Yes you are" Andrew shot back.

I opened my mouth to fight back, but he was quicker, cutting me off.

"You're a mother, a wife, an executive" he said. "Mostly, you are a woman" he glanced at me again. "You are different things to different people" he could be so infuriatingly accurate at times.

"What am I to you" I asked sullenly.

"A mother" I sighed with relief. "And a hot fifty-two year old woman with great legs and a great ass" he suddenly added.

I just sat in shock the rest of the ride home. For the next fifteen minutes I mulled over what Andrew had said; and after we had unloaded the flowers, I looked at him as he prepared to leave.

"What you're saying" I said slowly. "Is that I've buried the woman inside everything else that I am."

Andrew nodded, a smile coming to his face that I had realized a truth.

"Now you are starting to understand" he said. "You ARE a woman; that's not a crime mom" he said.

"So how do I let this woman out" I asked.

"You let go, but to the right alpha male" he said without hesitation.

I thought of his father, the loving husband; and mouse of the house. I almost burst out laughing.

"I don't think your father quite fits that bill" I tried not to laugh.

"That's an understatement" Andrew actually did laugh.

"So how do I find..." then Andrew cut me off.

Right there, standing in my kitchen; my twenty-five year old son; assumed command.

"Give me your panties" he said calmly.

"Andrew" I almost choked.

"Andrea" he replied using my formal name.

I just stared at him in silence, he couldn't be serious; and yet the look in his eyes. It only took a moment to realize he was waiting; waiting for me to make a move. Without a word I turned on my heels and marched from the kitchen. When I returned Andrew had not moved from the spot. Slowly I extended my hand, and dropped the small cloth into his palm, still warm from my body.

"Now what" I asked with a tremor in my voice.

"Now, you don't wear panties, until I bring these back" Andrew told me.

"How long..." I stared into his eyes.

"I'll be here Saturday" he told me.

I nodded silently; I could not believe I was agreeing with this foolishness; and yet knowing Andrew was in total control, sent an unknown shiver down my spine.

After he left, I stood in the kitchen, feeling the rough fabric of my jean shorts against my bare sex. I would need to be careful about my clothing choices I thought; shocking even myself that I was agreeing to this charade.

For the next two days I was nearly panic stricken. The idea I was at the office, attending a meeting; or at the gym working out; not wearing panties; sent these shudders through me at odd times. I actually considered masturbating after my gym workout the tension was climbing so badly.

For the first time in my life, I registered men looking at me. One of the clients at a meeting kept staring at my legs. I tend to wear skirts and a blouse as I find them more professional. I had the sudden urge to open my legs to him and let him see I wasn't wearing panties.

At the gym on Friday one of the men working out kept leering at me; and no not looking, I mean leering; you could see the lust in his eyes. It was the first time I registered that effect on a man. By the end of the workout session I had deliberately bent over, letting my tight yoga pants form to the curve of my bare ass underneath. Sitting on the weight bench I had spread my legs extra wide; letting him stare at my camel toe in the tight cloth.

That Saturday; Spencer, my husband, was upstairs in his office; and I was in the kitchen; when Andrew came through the front door. I watched him silently walk into the room, staring at him.

"Are you wearing any" he asked without any preamble or greeting.

"No" I almost choked out my reply.

"Why" he asked me.

"Because..." I thought carefully. "Because you told me not to" I admitted.

"Are you wet" he asked.

Oh my God, where was this going, I couldn't focus. I thought of my hidden sex in the Capri shorts I was wearing; and whether to be honest, or hide the woman I was.

"Yes" I admitted softly.

"Play with it" Andrew commanded me.

I didn't even refuse, I just stared at my son as I slid my hand inside the waist band of my Capri's, and without hesitation, drove two fingers into my sopping hole.

Unashamed, I stood at the sink, and fucked myself. Wet sloshing noises were matching the movement of my hand under the cloth of my shorts. I watched Andrew as my gut tightened; I wondered what effect this was having on him. He stepped closer, but I never stopped the plunging fingers.

"Men watched you didn't they" his voice low and almost melodic.

"Yes" I grunted as I drove my fingers deeper.

"They wanted you...your body" Andrew pressed.

"Yes" God my belly was tightening beyond belief.

"What did they want to do to you" he pressed.

"They wanted to...fuck me" I moaned as the passion built.

"You controlled them Ms. Montgomery" his voice almost dripped. "Their hunger; their need; you controlled them" God my body started to tingle, something was happening.

"What did you want" Andrew asked.

"I wanted....I...oh God" I moaned as my orgasm tore through me.

I ground the heel of my hand into my clit as my body convulsed. Sparks went off behind my eyes as my vision blurred. I could feel a flood of juices erupt from between my thighs and soak into the front of my shorts. I wasn't cumming, I was exploding.

"Oh shit...oh shit..." I moaned as a second wave crashed over me.

"This is called giving up control" Andrew's voice pierced my fog. "You controlled them, and now your body controls you."

Andrew was right, I was standing in the middle of my kitchen, experiencing the most mind bending orgasm I could remember, and there wasn't a damned thing I could do to stop it.

By the time the waves had eased down, my eyes fluttered back open. Andrew was gone; I was standing alone in the kitchen, my hand shoved down my shorts, my own hot cream dripping down my thighs. Like a whipped puppy I retreated to the bedroom, stripping clean I started the shower. But no amount of scrubbing could wash away two facts. One was that Andrew was right; I did feel the control, both at the meeting and the gym. The second was, after giving up control to my own body, I had just experienced the most mind bending orgasm of my life.

For the next three days I analyzed my feelings and sensations from the weekend. I left the office heading to Andrews; since we now had a formal session every Wednesday; but I was still no closer to understanding. I understood the control, I had always been a woman in control; but what did giving up the control have to do with my current problems.

When I arrived at Andrew's office, I was surprised he was already in the parking lot waiting for me. He gestured to the passenger seat of his car, so I grabbed my purse and slid into the seat. Andrew drove for about ten minutes before he finally spoke.

"Your problem Andrea" God he was back to using my name "is that you have lost the focus of your own feminism."

"What do you mean" I asked.

"While feminism is about equality; you are more focused on control." He said.

I nodded, this made sense. My need for control conflicted with the concept of equality for the sexes. So what was he planning now, I wondered.

"What you need is balance" Andrew said as we sat at a red light. "Women have needs, and men have needs' he said.

"Point made" I admitted. "So what now" I asked.

"You're going to learn to answer HIS needs" Andrew said.

It was then that he pulled into the parking lot of a small building. Oh my God, we were at an adult shop.

"What are you doing" I hissed.

"Andrea, you know how to be served" Andrew said as he stepped out of the car. "It's time you saw the other side of the coin."

Even as I exited the car, I glanced around the parking lot, the last thing I needed was for someone even remotely related to the office seeing me here. I actually hustled across the parking lot and through the door, trying to avoid anyone possibly seeing me.

Once inside, Andrew handed the man at the counter some bills, and picked up a basket of tokens. All the while this greasy man stared at my legs and chest like I was a slab of meat, it disgusted me.

I silently followed Andrew to the back of the building; he walked unerringly into a dimly lit hallway with small doors on either side. He walked to the center of the hallway and gestured towards a door. My only thought was how my son even knew of this establishment. Places like this vilified women; he knew how much I hated them.

I stepped into the small room and was immediately assailed by the smell of dried semen; it brought a taste of bile to my throat. I watched as Andrew set down the basket and fed a token into the machine. The screen lit up and I saw a brunette with huge breasts riding a very large cock.

I suddenly realized Andrew wasn't watching the movie, but instead looking at the side walls. I turned, and was horrified to realize there was a large hole in the wall leading to the other booth; it was edged with duct tape and about the size of my head. I turned and sure enough behind me was another hole on the opposite wall that came from the other booth.

"You can't be serious" I whispered.

"The object of this lesson" Andrew was so calm it infuriated me. "Is for HIM to cum; and that Andrea, is up to you."

My God, I didn't even give Spencer oral, I felt it so debased women; now Andrew expected me to perform oral sex on some total stranger. This was beyond outrageous.

Then, before my eyes, a thick cock slid through the first hole. It was already semi hard and I could see the heavy balls through the gaping hole. I just stood mesmerized as the thing waved in the air.

"He's waiting Andrea" Andrews's voice filled my ear. "Let's see if you've got what it takes to serve someone besides yourself" he egged me on.

Bastard, I thought; if he thinks I can't do this; my pride scaled the ladder as I slowly knelt to the floor. My bare knees settled on the concrete as I faced that thick monster.

Angry that someone would have the guts to question my abilities; I reached up and wrapped a hand around the base. I was shocked with the warmth against my palm, and I could feel it pulse with blood. In that moment, filled with righteous pride, I did the unthinkable; I called Andrews bluff.

I opened my mouth and swallowed the engorged head. Instantly my tongue was coated in his musky taste; my nostrils flared at the smell of sex and sweat as I slid my lips down his shaft.

I knew enough about porn and blowjobs, so I began to bob my head as my cheeks puffed out, sucking on this strange man's hardening cock. And it did get hard, God it got throbbing hard. But after almost five minutes, he still hadn't cum. I popped my aching mouth free and stroked the spit covered shaft.

"Come on" I hissed.

"It isn't about you Andrea" Andrew whispered in my ear. "It's him; you are here to pleasure him; to serve HIM."

As my mouth slid back into place, his words echoed in my head. This time, I paid closer attention. Just as I felt the shaft throb, I sucked in deeper. I was rewarded with a groan from the other side of the wall.

I reached up and cupped those heavy balls, massaging them; hearing this strange man grunt; tasting his pre cum as it coated my tongue. There was a strange sense of satisfaction when I felt that cock thicken even more in my mouth. I knew what was about to happen; my mouth sliding back up the shaft to clamp around the crowned head.

I sucked, with all the power I had as I waited. When I felt the first jerk, and then hot thick cream flood the back of my throat, I swallowed. It was as if I were suddenly thirsty for something I had never had before.

When the second blast filled my mouth, I held it this time. I swirled my tongue in the viscous salty fluid; relishing in the idea that by my skill, this man had given me this gift.

I felt Andrew lift my one hand, I almost moaned in protest thinking he would make me leave, instead my hand wrapped around a second pulsing cock from the hole behind me.

I pulled my mouth free from the first spent cock, feeling it starting to soften in my mouth. Not needing directions this time, I shuffled on my bare knees as I turned to face this new challenge.

This time it was different; this time I paid attention from the start. I swirled my tongue, pursing my lips along the shaft. It took barely four minutes this time and I felt those balls pulse in my hand. With a soft moan I willingly accepted the fruits of my labors. I had done this, I had given such pleasure.