Lesbian MILF Seductress: 30th B'day

She wiggled her toes, she leaned forward and fixed a seam that was slightly askew and then, using both hands, slowly moved her hands from her ankle up her calf to her knee and then far up her thigh.

I was completely intoxicated by this young woman, my pussy so wet I felt a gush leak out of me. Shit, I wish I could just get up and find a place to get off, I thought to myself as my pussy burned.

I imagined her pointing to the floor and my obediently dropping to my knees.

I imagined her opening her legs and again wordlessly, pointing to her pussy.

I imagined both my boyfriend and her mother watching as I was helplessly drawn to her... so much so that obeying her, tasting her, overrode all common sense and dignity.

I imagined leaning forward, extending my tongue, and tasting what could only be an exotic perfection.

I didn't even notice the final song of the first act ending. Only the clapping and the house lights going on woke me out of my vivid daydream.

My glazed eyes came back into focus and I realised I was looking directly into her face. And her face was smiling directly back at me.

My face burned red as I quickly looked away and towards my boyfriend, who was also staring at the teen's leg and foot (he too had a nylon fetish, and his favourite way to get off was a nylon-clad foot job. Because of that, all my nylons were sheer silk).

"I need to pee," I announced, needing to calm myself down. Although I was worried about the wet spot I'd already created on my chair. So as I stood up, I put my program down to conceal my saturation of sin and glanced back to her.

She was already up and walking the other way. I stared at her ass, and noticed her nylons had a seam going up the back.

As I stared, she turned around and smiled again... a knowing, self-assured smile.

My face burned red again as Ronnie took my hand and led me the other way.

As we made our way to the main floor and the wine, he asked, "Are you enjoying the show?"

"Which one?" I asked.

"She is distracting," he replied.

"I bet she is," I smirked, hiding my obsession by playing on his.

"Do you want another glass of wine?" he asked, changing the subject.

"Do you want to fuck my ass?" I asked flirtatiously, horny as hell. I then realized I had just ruined the surprise. We'd talked about it on occasion, even tried it once, so it wasn't completely out of the blue, but he was definitely surprised. But that first time we hadn't used lube, and it hurt like hell. But for the past couple of months I'd been prepping my ass with lube and butt plugs. For some reason, the idea of getting ass fucked turned me on, especially because everyone saw me as so prim and proper.

He stammered, "Y-y-yes."

"Then you'd better make sure I'm feeling pretty buzzed, so my inhibitions will be completely gone," I winked, before adding, "but I do really need to pee."

I left him in line and headed to the washroom, which of course had a long line.

The entire time I was in line I tried to figure out what it was that was drawing me to this girl. I mean I saw lots of women in nylons, I often saw beautiful women, and none of them had the impact this teenager was having on me.

Maybe it was the wine.

Maybe it was just that I was turning thirty, beginning to question if Ronnie was the one, and going through my own personal sexual self-awakening.

Maybe it was her eerie resemblance to Simone.

When I was leaving the bathroom, after deciding not to get myself off in a bathroom full of women waiting their turn, I felt someone grab my arm.

A voice asked, "Are you enjoying the show so far?"

I turned around. It was her! I stammered, "Y-y-yes, it's been very enjoyable."

"The production or me?" she asked, looking right inside me.

"Pardon?" I questioned, trying to feign innocence.

"You've been checking me out nonstop," she said, staring into my eyes.

"I have not," I lied, staring into her beautiful blue eyes.

"Tell you what," she said. "I have a very special thirtieth birthday present for you. If you want it, you'll leave your seat at the beginning of 'Baptize Me' and wait for me in the third-floor balcony bathroom. The final stall."

Before I had time to respond to the blunt offer, she walked away. I watched her until she was out of view.

As my head was spinning with her offer, the lights flickered, signaling that the musical was about to recommence.

I began walking back and saw Ronnie looking my way. I went to him, grabbed the wine he'd bought for me and downed it as if it was water as he asked, "What took so long?"

After finishing my wine, I replied, my head feeling light, "The line just crawled. I wish women could pee standing up."

"Just one of the many perks of being a guy," he smiled.

"Tell me about it," I nodded, taking his hand and heading back up the stairs to our seats.

As we returned, the unnamed girl was already seated and chatting with her mom.

I sat down, feeling very tipsy. A mixture of giddiness and trepidation bounced inside me.

Was she serious?

Why would she say such a thing if she weren't?

How did she know it was my birthday?

Did I want to? Fantasy is one thing, but making it into reality was an entirely different matter.

I glanced towards her. She was pointing at something on stage while chatting with her very pretty mom, who looked more like an elder sister, which gave me a chance to stare again at her lovely legs.

The lights dimmed and I had only the length of a few songs to make a decision. A decision fraught with consequence. My clouded drunken mind had a hard time considering the negative as my cunt burned and leaked with fevered excitement.

I was thirty now. Thirty-year-olds didn't go and have sex in a girl's washroom... especially at a Broadway musical with a teenager.

Yet, I was horny as hell and completely intoxicated by this confident, forward, seductive teen... just like I'd been with someone only a year older than I all those years ago.

Yet, my boyfriend was right beside me, his left hand idly stroking my right leg.

As the first number began, after a lengthy interlude to make sure everyone was seated, I felt another hand on my left leg.

A chill went down my spine and a gush of wetness flooded out of me... again.

Her hand was on my leg, and it slowly slithered its way under my dress.

I bit my lip not to let out a moan.

I should have stopped her, yet instead I allowed the beautiful stranger to explore me.

Reaching the top of my left stocking and feeling my garter, she paused.

I refused to look at her, my eyes fixed on a stage production I wasn't remotely watching or processing.

I waited with bated breath to see if her hand would explore any further up, my fiery leaking cunt ready to erupt.

But she didn't.

She just lingered there, ever so slowly caressing the top of my left sheer silk stocking.

When the song ended, both hands on both of my legs left as everyone clapped.

I did too, albeit greatly delayed, as my drunken, over-stimulated mind tried to focus on why I'd originally come here... to see the musical I loved.

As the production continued, Ronnie's hand returned to my leg, but hers didn't.

I kept waiting for her hand to return, yet it didn't, throughout the entire number.

Then, as the third song in this act began, my favourite, 'I Believe'. I felt her hand finally go to mine and she pressed something in my hand.

She had given me her wet panties.

OMG!!

My face went beet red in the dark, and a chill went up my spine.

She gave my hand a firm squeeze before moving hers away.

I knew I was supposed to leave once the next song started. My cunt was leaking with anticipation, my chair dripping with wetness, having repositioned myself so my leaking cunt was at the edge of the chair so I wouldn't soil the chair; instead I was making a puddle on the floor.

I had decided. I was definitely going to that washroom, I was too curious not to. When the song ended, I took a deep breath and glanced over to the teenager. She was staring at me with a slight smile on her face.

As soon as the characters broke into the song that was my cue to leave, I whispered to Ronnie, "Sorry, I have to go the washroom."

"Now?" he questioned.

"Too much wine," I answered, which was a believable excuse.

"Okay," he nodded, shifting his legs to the side so I could exit the balcony as discreetly as possible.

I walked out, found the stairs and climbed up to the third floor.

I saw the bathroom at the far end of the hallway and walked into it. My mind was spinning, and my body was tingling with anticipation.

I reached the bathroom and was surprised to see it only had two stalls; it was a lot smaller than the main lobby bathroom.

I went into the last stall and waited, feeling like a kid waiting to unwrap a present on Christmas morning. Or perhaps more like the wrapped package waiting for the kid.

I took her panties and brought them to my nose. As I'd expected, her scent was intoxicating, and I imagined how much stronger it would be directly from the source. I also wondered if it would taste as amazing as Simone's had all those years ago.

It was only a couple minutes before the bathroom door opened, yet it seemed like an eternity as I eagerly waited for... for my birthday present.

The heels clicked closer and closer until she was standing just outside my stall. She paused, then pushed the door open.

"Hi, my pet," she greeted.

A slight gush leaked out of me at her words. "H-h-hi," I stammered.

"So, ready for the best present ever?" she asked, walking into the large handicapped stall and closing the door.

"H-h-how old are you?" I asked, praying she was eighteen, praying I wasn't about to commit a crime.

"Old enough to know you're a submissive looking for a young mistress," she answered, seeing exactly what I wanted at the moment, yet not answering the question.

"Please tell me you're at least eighteen," I said, my cheeks red with excitement.

"Almost nineteen, if you must know," she answered, "not that age matters."

"It does in a court of law," I replied, even as my mouth watered, the last barrier from complete submission to this teen seductress dismissed and gone.

"Did you enjoy my little gift?" she asked, looking down at my hand wrapped possessively around her pink panties.

"It was a surprise," I answered.

"That doesn't answer the question, my pet," she countered.

"I loved it," I answered, "I've never received a gift before that was anything like it."

She chuckled softly and then asked, "So, why are you still standing?"

I sheepishly admitted, as I lowered myself to my knees, "I haven't been with a woman for eight years."

"It's like riding a bike," she smiled, "once you get going, your muscle memory takes control."

"I hope so," I nodded, my face now at her crotch, her skirt and panties (wait, I had her panties in my hand) being all that were stopping me from seeing and tasting her.

"So why did you decide to meet me?" she asked, looking down at me.

"I don't know," I answered, which was largely true.

"Does your boyfriend know you're about to lick a pussy?"

"He has no idea," I admitted, although knowing him, he'd encourage it enthusiastically and love the chance to watch.

"And if you had to choose between his cock and my pussy?" she asked, lifting up her dress and revealing a completely shaved pussy.

At this moment, the answer was obvious. I was staring at perfection and I had to taste it. I had to struggle to look up, her pussy so inviting, but I did, looked in her eyes, yes, they were blue like mine, and replied, "I want your pussy."

"Go ahead," she offered, "it's time to baptise you."

I had to smile. 'Baptise me' was my favourite song in the musical. I leaned forward, extended my tongue and began to lick. Her taste was marvellous, and I inwardly scolded myself for waiting so many years to lick another pussy. I began lapping hungrily, like a woman lost in the desert who finally finds water... I was indeed born again.

"Mmmmmmm," she moaned, "are you enjoying your present?"

"God, yes," I answered, smiling at the accidental religious response.

"You know," she said, as her hands went through my hair, "This won't be a one-time thing."

I didn't even hesitate in my response when I replied while still licking, "I hope not."

"I hope not, what?" she asked, moving my head face away from her purifying wetness.

I looked up at her, famished, wanting to dive back in her ocean; yet unsure what she was angling towards.

"Are you my pet?" she asked.

I nodded, "Yes."

"And if you're my pet, my submissive, that would make me...?" she asked, leading me to the trough.

It took me a second, but then the answer hit me with complete lucidity. "Mistress," I declared, "you're my Mistress!" the word flowing off my tongue naturally.

"Good pet," she purred and rewarded me by pulling me back into her pussy perfection.

I resumed licking; I resumed my baptism by fire; I resumed my journey as a submissive.

My head was spinning with consequence, understanding that my agreement that this was more than a one-time thing had been completely unpredictable. My relationship with Ronnie was completely predictable and completely dull.

I needed this, I wanted this, and I was so eager to indeed submit to her again.

Her moans increased and she grabbed the back of my head and began to grind her pussy on my face. Her wetness coated my face and smeared my makeup, but I didn't care. I just wanted to get her off, to taste the full flood of her heavenly moisture.

And then... the baptism came (literally) as her cum coated my face. I eagerly lapped up her holy juice.

I was reborn.

I was a new woman.

She eventually let go of my head and looking down at me smiled, "Happy birthday."

"Thank you, Mistress," I replied, looking up at her, my face feeling wet and sticky.

"Do you want the rest of your present?" she asked.

"How could there be more?" I asked.

"You'll find out when the show is over," she smiled, allowing her dress to drop back down. Before I could respond, she walked out of the stall, leaving me confused and still on my knees.

Bewildered and consumed with lust I remained on my knees, my pussy on fire.

I was just about to deal with my burning inferno, when she suddenly opened the stall door and ordered firmly, "And don't you dare touch that cunt of mine until I say you can."

"Yes, Mistress," I nodded, a gush of wetness coming out of me at her words 'cunt of mine'.

"By the way," she smiled, "be careful; there's a puddle on the floor."

"Yes, Mistress," I again nodded, feeling ashamed at making such a mess.

She added, "And don't you dare freshen up your make-up. I like my pets to walk around proud of the privilege to display my cum on their face."

"Yes, Mistress, proud it is," I agreed with a grin.

She walked out again and this time I stood up, my knees slightly sore. I walked out of the stall and went to the mirror. My make-up was indeed mussed, and I looked like I'd just been fucked... although that wasn't the case... although damn it, I did need to get fucked!

I obeyed her order, unsure how I would explain my smudged face to Ronnie, and also curious what she meant by another present.

I returned to the show and was surprised to realize I'd missed a couple more songs. Returning to my seat, as soon as I sat down, Ronnie leaned over and asked, "Where have you been?"

I lied, "My stomach was a bit upset."

He gave me a look, but thankfully in the dark it was hard to see how askew my make-up had become. That said, I did wonder if my face smelt like pussy.

I glanced over to the teenager, whose name I realized I still didn't know, and she was watching the hilarious 'Joseph Smith American Moses'.

I tried to watch the show I loved so much, but struggled as I pondered the crazy situation I'd gotten myself into. Did Ronnie notice my messy make-up or smell the teen's cunt juice on my face? What's the rest of the birthday present the teen had promised? How will I explain my just-fucked look to Ronnie? When was I going to be allowed to come?

As the songs continued, neither my man nor my Mistress put their hand on my knee, but as the song ended, the teen leaned over and whispered, "I want you to come during the climactic final number."

I gasped. I was already near orgasmic bliss and it sure wouldn't take long, yet doing it in a crowded theatre... I tended to be a screamer... was something I wouldn't normally do. I couldn't help but smirk at her word choice.

Yet... I desperately needed to have an orgasm.

Moreover... I felt utterly compelled to obey this seductive teenager.

My hands trembled as the song ended. I knew there was still another reprise of a song in 'Hasa Diga Eebowai' before the big finale.

I had that long to decide whether I was going to obey.

Part of me argued how ludicrous it was to obey a teenager.

Part of me argued how amazingly fulfilling it felt to obey this teenager.

Part of me argued that I was thirty and should be making decisions for myself.

Part of me argued that making decisions myself had resulted in a bland, unsatisfactory sex life for years.

Part of me argued I needed to be dignified.

Part of me argued I needed to just let go and be a slut.

Yet, even as my mind contemplated the different ramifications, my burning, leaking cunt was overriding my moral dignity.

As the reprise ended, the teenager put her hand on my leg and gave me a firm squeeze.

I nodded in the dark, not sure if she could see my trepidation and anticipation... two conflicting emotions that only seemed to enhance my desire to erupt.

And then, after a couple of minutes of character chatting, 'Tomorrow is a Latter Day' began. I took a deep breath, glanced over to Ronnie, who was watching the dancing, and moved my left hand under my skirt, slithered slightly on the seat so my cunt would leak onto the floor and not the chair, and began rubbing myself.

I glanced at the teenager who was watching intently, a small smile on her face.

When I uttered my first moan, reaching climactic bliss not going to take long after all the anticipation, I felt Ronnie's hot breath as he whispered, "What the hell are you doing?"

I moaned again in response, biting my lip so as not to alert the entire balcony and theatre, but I didn't dare speak.

Instead, I closed my eyes, replayed the scene in the washroom, and allowed the natural course of pleasure to wash over me.

My legs stiffened, my back arched, and I moaned much louder than I wanted to, as the flood of lust rushed out of me.

The teen whispered, "That's it, good girl."

Ronnie whispered, "What did she just say?"

My head light, I couldn't respond, as the pleasure coursing through me hit me like a thousand sparks of fire, creating pleasure not only in my cunt, but in my fingers and toes, up my back and through every pore of my body.

"What do you say after being allowed such pleasure?" the teen asked loud enough for Ronnie to hear, her hand back on my leg.

"What the hell?" Ronnie startled, for the first time noticing the teen's hand on my leg.

I ignored my on and off boyfriend of three years, thinking, Serves the bastard right for all the times he broke up with me, as I turned to her and replied, "Thank you, Mistress."

"You're welcome, my pet," she nodded, her hand moving under my dress and cupping my still leaking and tremoring pussy.

I imagine Ronnie was watching in shock and awe, but I focused on her touch, her words.

She moved her finger inside me for just a moment and I let out another moan (while Ronnie flinched) and watched as she moved her hand back out from under my dress and brought it to her lips.

"Holy fuck!" Ronnie said, not angrily, but in shock.