Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.
You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.
Click here
Some of the tats were monochrome black, others were in photorealistic color.
As she mounted the bed - on all fours with her back toward Barnes - Sam showed no modesty or inhibition about her body. Instead he saw the act as an invitation saying, "I am yours, drink your pleasure fully." In an exaggerated movement she casually stretched her leg to open herself, parting the folds of her valley, exposing the hot pink flesh along the length of her pussy. The pink seemed to glow unnaturally for his eyes. For a moment she took a kneeling pose on the bed to exhibit the pucker of her ass, then stretched up and forward as if doing a slow dive into the sheets, posing for a moment with her butt in the air before she turned to rest on her back.
The movement reminded him of an orca. They were creatures that killed sharks for fun, and gang-raped their own females.
To Barnes the series of movements was as deliberate and practiced as yoga or that Chinese group exercise he never learned the name of. Except it was blatantly sexual and it was just for him. His hard erect cock felt tighter and bigger than it ever had when he was half his present age.
Barnes was entranced and fascinated at how Sam made the bed her own personal space, almost like it was an extension of her intimate body. Simply entering the space would be tantamount to penetrating her. He also felt a pressing, compelling male need to enter her physical body and discharge his business as pleasure.
After seeing her demonstration, he felt an incredible desire to relieve himself in her ass. He had to shake that off, he knew that if his cock enjoyed the embrace of that very tight passage he was sure to disgrace himself by ejaculating before he completed entry. That would not do.
Barnes was slower removing the robe, he was a thin tennis player but was not really proud of his body. When he emerged from the shadow he was by the bed, naked, showing his cock proud and very erect; he had taken his own blue pill for insurance before he entered the hotel. His cock stood in a perfect horizontal from his shaved pubes; several of the young wives-of-partners he bedded had suggested that shaving contributed to better oral sex. In fact, they were willing to do the very personal service for him themselves... with extras before and after, if he was interested.
Instead his daughter shaved him, she loved him and like massage it was a loving service she could perform without guilt. He returned the favor of shaving her bare, as a love gift of his own time and effort. Eventually they made it a weekly ritual for just the two of them that they looked forward to. It was sexual and naughty, but they didn't cross the line. Afterward his wife benefitted from his arousal while his daughter watched and used a toy as she stayed in contact with them, sharing their pleasure and love.
When Sam saw his member for the first time she felt is as nicely sized, showing more length rather than girth relative to most nerds she knew intimately. She could enjoy it as long as he was not a complete loser in how he employed it. So she gifted him with an inviting smiled.
Falling down on this part of the job was unforgivable for any leader of men, in his mind the spectre of doubt lurked in the shadows. But her welcoming smile drove the shadows back and dissolved the spectre... for a moment.
Like a proud child he held a rubber for Sam to see, then he put it on; he was a cautious person about some things. Sam smiled her general approval at something, but it was a private smile of disapproval, he knew the difference. He approached the bed.
"Not bad, certainly better than I expected," Sam said as she slowly took a good look at him, stopping him in his tracks. "You don't look like a golfer, but I bet you win at tennis." The words were perfect to stroke his ego, combining praise he valued without testing reality.
In fact, despite his age he was better in body than so many of the nerds who had routinely penetrated her body, usually too briefly, living the past few years in the co-op. But she had also known a man who was a demigod on Earth, plus Marta's wonderful tall trained lovers. The anticipation of some time with her Master tomorrow is what got her wet. She kept that thought uppermost in her mind; it kept her juices flowing.
His cock got a little stiffer with her words as he approached and got a better look at her charms. Her desire was displayed under the spotlight.
A man like Barnes did not look at a woman through the eyes and the drives of a teenager. He appraised her mind and her power as well as her body for how it might serve. Sam's flesh, glowing a healthy pink under the subtle tinting of the light, looked very good from this angle. Inviting. She was not model thin, in fact she was not even up to the standards of his worst service girl, but he imagined he saw her witchlike powers captured in the varied and abundant ornamentation that seemed to cover her. From that angle it struck him as both powerfully exotic and very 'womanly' while also looking youngish. He judged her as ripe, ready to make a child. Also, in his eyes he saw her body overlaid with a collection of great skills and tools, knowledge of practices that were almost spells to him, as he did not understand their source. But he understood that her mind and her raw power activated those spells. The combination had terrified and defended him that afternoon. It was his task to use all his power, including his cock, to enlist those powers again, to continue their service to him and his collective. In this he was, for the first time ever, the supplicant.
He knew from the way she posed on the bed that she had been with many men, but his mind saw that as experiences gained, not experience expended using her up. The various markings on her body lent an air of taboo excitement, her canvas was nothing like a small rose or a dolphin or other simple tat sported as "her naughty" by the young wife of a junior partner he might bed. The overwhelming sense was of great pain, there was nothing light or whimsical here. Sam displayed markings all over, contributing to her witchlike air. As he got closer he saw the markings were even on the nipples of her breasts. He imagined many, many hours she had spent naked as a man or men applied pain and ink to her body, in all places. (He never considered female tattoo artists.) Did that pain and exposure excite her? Did the men pleasure her before or after? Or perhaps during the pain? How could they not partake of her body, posed and exposed for hours as they worked? The temptation was obvious.
He imagined men working in pairs, naked at their task; one with the steel tattoo needle giving her pain while the other used his flesh tool to devour the pain. They traded off. She writhed in pleasure and pain for them both. He wondered at other possibilities, but only in passing.
As he looked she ran a finger along her side, on a patch of bare skin just below her ribs. "I may add something here, to mark this new chapter... or maybe do something naughtier. I have some ideas about piercings."
Barnes was struck by that, he could not have imagined it, but when she said it he felt honored that this powerful skilled woman would summon more pain to mark her body as a memory of him. Of course, he misunderstood and thought it was about him and his firm, but that was his nature. In his own mind it increased his desire for the encounter to go well.
"Might I watch?" he asked. The words were out before he thought.
"Oh no. The act, the transfer of pain and pleasure, is an intimate rite... very private."
As he gazed at her, the most attractive aspects of her body were her two sets of lips, both the thick red natural lips of her mouth, and the deeper, fat, womanly lips at the entrance to her body below, which were swelled with blood from arousal. Where he would find his release. He saw where the lower pair of lips had been slightly reddened forming a vertical kiss, whether by lipstick or a tattoo he could not tell, but it was deliberate, and another wonder that drew his eye. It was plainly something she did for her lovers, a sign that she was receptive. Those lips would swallow his cock and what his balls offered when she allowed him to make themselves one body. He could not wait and moved towards the position of entry.
In fact, his only regret as he examined the prize he intended to plunder was that he could enjoy it only once tonight. He did not consider staying over, he was too old to rely on his body for such things. Well, there would be more contracts, the next in less than 30 days. He decided that accepting bids from her competitors would be a waste of time and a potential breech of security as well. His partners would urge him to solicit bids, but fuck them, he knew they would all fall short so why waste the time?
That was the moment when things shifted as she casually tore all control away from him.
He did not plan to wait to please his cock, it was the way he did things. Other people waited for him. But she had a different way of doing things, and she commanded the change.
Her words took on the character of a song - or a spell chanted. "Okay, you have had a good long look at paradise. 'Now, if you want to kiss the sky, better learn how to pray. On your knees boy.' Get in here and eat my pussy, Slick."
Barnes caught the Edge in the rise and fall of her voice; in his younger days he was a fan of Bono's crew so he knew where the words were from. "Mysterious Ways" indeed! It was both fitting, and very clear. A command he had to obey.
Barnes was, at his heart, a salesman. He got through law school, but was a lousy lawyer. He sold his firm to clients by outlasting other firms in unending negotiations regarding tiny details, and always having a shiny new idea from left-field to dazzle the client, until the deal was a mountain of tinsel obscuring a tiny tree. The point is, he had never really accomplished anything real.
But from her tone he knew in a flash he had better accomplish this. He had to please her in the way she demanded, failure was too horrible to contemplate.
Well, at least it would use his very educated tongue.
It had been many years since senior partner Barnes had been addressed so, with a blunt order for sexual service, like a lowly service girl. But her words held the power she had shown him this afternoon, so that was the pose he now took. Barnes was surprised to discovered he was already on his knees, he just could not recall doing that. The reversal of role in his mind tumbled the fortress of his ego. His mental image of Sam morphed in an instant from a seductive geisha to a huge terrible dragon, with him transformed a tiny figure, naked, helpless, and emasculated. He thought of the spider where the female is enormous next to the male, and that other insect where the male's head was removed while he contributed his seed, so his body could also nourish their offspring. As she spoke her command he recalled the computer screen with firm's name and password for sale. The firm was all he valued.
In a pink fog he told himself that he had been expecting this, looking forward to it even, since that moment when she showed him on the computer how she held his balls securely. To him this was raw power in the form of a woman. They both knew she held him in thrall.
Still surprising himself, he bent forward and pressed his lips to her tender nether flesh. He did what he usually did only to his very wealthy wife, who he loved, on her birthday and their anniversary each year. On those days the task was performed at her insistence - it had been a private wedding vow - and in a perfunctory manner as if that was all he knew.
But such behavior would not do here, he had to invent the skill. With this woman, he knew he had to be effective in his service to her. It had to last, be successful, and bring the desired result. He had to summon all his experience and, since that fell short, his imagination as well. He had to drive all thoughts of failure from his mind.
In a bit of a panic, he dove deep into all his mind carried. A voice of a native American indian among his ancestors (1 part in 32, an Oneida woman taken by one of his less reputable ancestors) called from the depths of his mind. He opened himself to her wisdom. The spirit of his ancestor had no direct knowledge, but urged him to seek an icon or a totem to guide him in the task before him, something to focus his will and bind him to a purpose if he was to succeed. He flashed the image of a blind mole, and in his mind, where he was terrified of his inadequacy, he submerged his pride and merged with that spirit-totem to guide his actions.
Then his tongue touched her nether lips and he sought to please Sam the witch.
In moments it was clear that his best native skills were childlike and not to her liking, so he accepted harsh instructions like whiplashes as she barked them. From her tone it was like he had never eaten pussy before. In fact, he had never succeeded in pleasuring a woman this way, when he did this act it was a simple check-mark on the way to other things, because women these days required such service as their Jane Fonda given right. The unwritten rules said that if a woman was shaved she expected to know the heights of pleasure from a man's oral service to her.
(Everybody knew that the rich and powerful Ted Turner, also known as the "Mouth Of The South," bent forward and rendered this service to satisfy Hanoi Jane, else she would have kicked him out of bed instead of marrying him for a time.)
To soften the blows of her rapid-fire instructions, Sam quipped that she expected much more than "... lip service..." from a leader of men like him. (They both laughed at her pun, even as it undercut his ego even more.) She required a probing tongue reaching farther into her body than he was able, sincere enthusiasm despite the pain, and most especially real toe-curling results, or he would not get to part those lovely nether lips with his cock.
Of course, the real implication of his failure was that she might not be interested in another contract. Then where would he be? He would have to beg for negotiations where she might hint at his failure to his partners, and require somebody else, a younger partner, to consummate the agreement on behalf of the firm. His demotion would surely follow, and given his limited skills as a lawyer, he would be fired soon after that.
He would fall from the great height he had achieved because he couldn't lick pussy? Never! Channeling the blind mole he put his back into it and stretched his tongue deeper, accepting the pain.
He knew his partners, they were all greedy bastards, for they were rich lawyers! If she suggested that she wanted to see two younger partners the next time she signed a contract, those she chose would rend the essential tranquility of the firm, destroying it. Well, his greatest strength was determination to avoid shame; he could be better, he was not going to give up his position. Heedless of the pain it gave he stretched his tongue a bit farther, moved it faster and pushed harder in her depths.
In time his effort was rewarded with the slightest of pleasured sighs from her.
Then, what stung Barnes even more, was a moment later when she condescended; she had instructed newbies before, and it was not really a difficult skill. After all, "even really stupid teenagers mastered it."
At that he resolved to humble himself further and ask his daughter for instruction, he was sure she had been licked by experts, and he could ask her without suffering much more embarrassment. He had kissed his daughter in this region before, chastely, as she had kissed his cock after shaving it. It would not be too much of a change to ask her, and he was sure it would be her pleasure to instruct him.
So instead of taking the tiny victory he redoubled his efforts as he buried his face even deeper, burning with embarrassment, into the hot core of Sam's divine woman's body. He took the most critical instruction without objection, and applied himself as she required like he never had before. If he had to hold his neck in a painful position, and if his jaw had to be held wider open than he was used to, he did all she asked. Muscles unused to exertion ached before he was done, but he dared not let up.
As it happened, in his efforts he had occasion to look up her body with one eye, and that out-off-focus. From his angle the tattoo on her belly was foreshortened and, with effort he was now able to work out a single word as an element among the complex bending lines forming the design. For just an instant, as the tears filling his eyes collected to form a liquid lens, the word resolved as "paulozero49." Then he blinked and the image was gone.
He filed that away in his mind, it was important. He would wonder what it meant during many nights before sleep took him.
Finally, as her sounds and movements evidenced some small but real satisfaction from his ultimate efforts, relief washed over him. As an endorsement of his success her flavor changed; a fresh wave of her pink-tasting juices washed over his tongue where it reached inside her body. She literally oozed with a semblance of delight.
(He did not question why she tasted pink, success and pain had him distracted. Later that night the question would return to him, and he would wonder at it, but by then the drug was gone, taking with it his ability to taste pink.)
Success! His heart felt like he had just "bent it" perfectly to score the only goal at the last second in a soccer game watched by billions around the world. (He had once seen David Beckham at practice for an LA Galaxy soccer game. It was quite amazing.)
After a brief period when he was allowed to grovel his thanks for her instruction and lick up her sweet juices so as not to soil the sheets, she set another task for him.
Sam gave an order - it was not the reward he expected. "Now I want you to move your tongue a little lower, I have a craving for another pleasure and it seems that you are going to provide it for me."
Barnes did the math; he had used his tongue on Sam's pussy, deep in her vulva, and now she wanted lower? He moved the tip to the bottom of her pussy slit and tried that.
"No, that is not it, you have been there. A little lower please."
He had to question that. "Are you asking me to rim you?" He had a doubtful tone in his voice, like she could not mean that.
She didn't. "No dear," his mood lightened for a moment, she would not ask such a thing. Then she asked for more. "Rimming is just the outside. I expect you to get your tongue inside, to stretch my tight little gatekeeper muscle for a bit of tongue fucking in back. A big strong tennis player like you can do that for me, can't you? I mean, as long as we are going to help you keep your business healthy, right? Carry on."
He could not believe how her words took control of him. Suddenly he was moving his head down, extending his tongue, and the tip was reaching for her tight sphincter. She shifted to grant him more access. Barnes had never done such a thing with anyone. He never considered it. But then, he never had so much riding on his sexual service to another. He remembered how he felt when he saw the word "Goldstein" on his computer. All the terrible thoughts he had this afternoon came back, in a rapid sequence. His thoughts of failure, demotion, the loss of standing with his peers and his women. All the young wives of partners who he might bed. Service girls would know he failed! He could not face the public disgrace, nor could he face the disappointment in his women knowing he failed.
Also, he rationalized to himself, how bad could it be? It was a Quid Pro Quid, something lawyers do all the time. He was exchanging a service for a service. He had metaphorically done it many times to other people, and often that was seen by others. This would stay between them. So in private, he debased himself as his tongue made contact with her exit.
