Play Practice Pt. 07

Erin:

As the call concluded, we found ourselves in that "idle chit chat" part of the conversation--dull as it was, I had learned early in my career that writers appreciated these kinds of personal touches from their agents.

"And Laura, how is everything otherwise? How is Elsa?" I said.

"Oh, that's a sad story. She was adjuncting at [a college]. It was supposed to be a test run to see if they wanted her full-time. In the end, they didn't make an offer. And I can't do long-distance."

"Distance is hard."

"What about you? A little birdy told me a voluptuous assistant has joined your agency. Sounds like your type. Someone new in your life?"

"It's complicated. She's not new. A blast from the past. And, well, she's married. To a man."

"That does sound complicated. She must be fun. Is she fun?"

"Incredibly fun."

"I'll look forward to meeting her when I'm there next month."

"Take care, Laura. Looking forward to seeing the draft. I'd love to take a look at the pages before your visit, too. That way we can get the business out of the way and focus more on the leisure aspects of your visit."

"I'll try. No promises. Talk soon."

I set my phone on the desk and opened the study door. In the living room, Alyssa was typing away on the couch. When she saw the door open, she set her laptop aside and stood, smoothing her tight charcoal skirt, looking expectantly at me.

"How was the call?"

"Fine. Laura's a little distracted and I need the next draft of the novel sooner rather than later. I have to be careful. Writers can be so sensitive. I think she'll respond best to a 'carrot approach.'"

"Carrot for her, stick for me?" Alyssa said, smirking.

"Getting to beat you with a stick will be her carrot, silly."

I looked her over. The charcoal skirt strained across her big ass, and her cleavage peeked through the several undone buttons of her blouse. It was an outfit that would have been appropriate for work some pounds ago. But now, in the softness of her thirties, Alyssa looked more like a porn star playing "worker" than an actual cubicle-dweller. How her husband let her leave the house dressed that way was anybody's guess. I looked her up and down, feeling that familiar fire of lust in my throat. Fate had given her back to me, and I would do anything to keep her this time.

"Alyssa- finish that email and then please let Lyssie know I want to see her in the bedroom in twenty minutes."

Alyssa nodded eagerly and sat back on the couch, typing furiously.

"Twenty minutes."

I shut the study door and kicked my feet up on my desk. It had been like this for two months now. My growing number of clients had necessitated an assistant, and this arrangement allowed us to spend our days together. She'd hated her old job anyway. This allowed us a mix of business and pleasure. The fact that Alyssa was actually quite good at the work was just an added bonus.

I plucked a copy of Laura's previous book from the shelf and turned it over, looking at the black and white photo on the back. Her face was severe and birdlike, and the oversized blazer gave her an air of being cosmopolitan, but relaxed. We'd met in the lit world, but our friendship had been cemented in a members-only leather dyke bar in New York called Queens of Queens. Given the circumstances of our meeting, I was sure that Laura would have a wonderful time visiting us the following month.

I poured a small vodka and looked at my watch. I had to kill some time until "Lyssie" would be ready. This was a new wrinkle in our play: Alyssa assuming her former persona as "Lyssie, the Lesbian Party Slut." A notification appeared on my phone telling me that she had activated the remote controlled vibrator, and my app was requesting confirmation. I clicked the button to "pair" the app and turned the intensity to about 75%. I took a sip of vodka before unlocking the bottom drawer of my desk. From my secret drawer, I removed my thick purple strap-on and harness. The mere anticipation of fucking Alyssa was making me practically feral. Twenty minutes crept by. I could not wait to tease, torture, and fuck this beautiful woman. What a torrid thought. I wondered privately what circumstances in my life had made me this way. What made me, in the face of my overwhelming, all-encompassing lust, express said desire as pure force? It was there from the start...my dolls were always abducting each other, after all. And moreover, what karmic savings had I accrued in past lives that the object of my affection needed, in turn, to be possessed to deeply? Or, to put it simply: I was a lucky girl.

When it was time, I made my way to the bedroom. I need to take a moment just to catalog the scene awaiting me. Alyssa, as Lyssie, was kneeling, her hair in a high, ponytail, wearing a black corset I'd bought that accentuated her hourglass figure, making her look like a painting of a goddess. She was gagged with a red ball gag and her eyes were covered with a leather blindfold. She wore over-ear headphones that were playing a mantra I'd recorded for her on repeat:

"You were lost until I found you. And now you're mine."

I set the strap-on on the bed and took out the vibrator app. Gradually, nearly imperceptibly, I slid the slider on the app to full strength and listened as Lyssie's breath become shallow. She knew I was close. I circled her twice, taking in every inch of her with my eyes. Her voluptuous beauty, femininity incarnate. It inspired a feeling in me that I can hardly articulate- something next to hunger. I traced my index finger across her collarbone and she shuddered. I pulled the headphones from her ears and held one of the speakers to my own ear, hearing that familiar phrase: "You were lost until I found you. And now you're mine."

Then I pulled the gag from her mouth. "How's my slut?"

"I need to cum, Goddess Erin. Please. I'll do anything," she whined.

I grabbed her by her arm and pulled her from her knees. She scrambled to her feet and stood in a wide stance with her feet apart. I reached to her bare cunt and thumbed her clit, parting her lips with my fingers. Thick, white cum coated her labia.

"You're in quite a state, Lyssie."

"Ohhhhhhhhh, I am Goddess. I really, really am."

"I want to see you earn it."

I sat on the bed, pulling her over my lap. I stabilized her with my left arm as I groped and kneaded the round, fleshy globes of her ass. It was one of the most beautiful sights in the world. I swatted both cheeks of her fat ass with a series of a healthy whacks. This never got old. Whether I was 18 or 35, there was nothing better than spanking Alyssa's big, round butt. When both hemispheres were beet red, I rubbed her clit with my thumb once more. She was ready.

"Take out your vibrator."

She pulled the vibrator from her cunt and set it on the end table as I stepped into my harness.

"Get this wet, bimbo."

This was purely ceremonial. Her pussy was so wet that this wouldn't make any difference.

She dropped back down to her knees and throated my purple cock eagerly. I gripped her ponytail with one hand, using it to bob her head up and down on the dildo as she coated it with her sloppy drool.

"You are such a good girl, Lyssie. So obedient. So sexy. I'm so lucky to have a slut like you."

She looked up into my eyes and seemed, I thought, genuinely proud. And I looked down at her eyes with a look (I hoped) conveyed my pride in her. And love. God, I loved her.

I bent her over the bed and slid the cock into her with, as predicted, no friction. I established a steady rhythm as I worked the prick in and out, filling her cunt to the hilt, then leaving it empty. Each stroke produced its commensurate guttural noise from her. I wrapped her ponytail in my hand like a rein as I rode her perfect ass.

"I'm so close, Goddess. Please just like that," she gasped.

"Cum for me baby. Come for me, Lyssie."

She collapsed onto the bed and just lied there for a second, catching her breath.

"You okay?"

"Oooooooooo, yes. Better than okay."

A minute later she lifted herself from the bed, and looked at me with a little orgasm-drunk smile.

"Baby, that was incredible."

"Mmm, wasn't it?"

"May I please make you come?"

"Of course, baby."

And she did. Several times. And then I made her come a few more times, for good measure. Afterwards, we laid under the sheets, my head on her chest as I stroked her hair. I listened to her heart beating beneath her breastbone, echoing in her chest.

"I don't want this to end," I said, finally.

"Me neither."

"In a few minutes you'll have to take a shower. Then you'll go home to him. But what if you didn't? What if you just stayed?"

"What if I stayed?"

"Marry me."

"Oh....Erin."

"I was lost until I found you. And I want you to be mine, wholly. I know it's messy. But I'll take care of you. Will you be my wife?"

She looked at me, tears filling her eyes.

"Of course."