The Fantasy Factory

The mirror behind the bar offered him a fantastic view of himself. It had only required a little hocus pocus to alter his looks. The salt and pepper hair was cut short, the collar was starched and the silk tie was loosened. His jacked was slung across the stool beside him. For all practical purposes he was the average business man enjoying an average scotch after an average day at the office. Would she be fooled?

The hand on his shoulder pissed him off, but he hid it well.

"Would you like to buy me a drink?" She crooned at him.

The petite blonde that wore too much makeup and not enough dress looked like she charged entirely too much for whatever half assed service she intended to offer him. No matter what price she asked, it would be too much as long as she wasn't the woman he was waiting for.

"Sure. I'll buy you a drink as long as you promise to carry your ass back to the over there," He indicated the other side of the room, "where I don't have to look at your cheap self."

"Well I never-"

"No, actually, you do. It honestly looks like you do quite often, and probably not well either."

She moved to slap him, and he caught her wrist.

"Have a nice evening." With a slight shove she was on her way, cussing him and insulting the imagined size of his dick. He had no doubt that she'd find some poor schmuck to lick her wounds for her and help to soothe her bruised ego.

With a smirk, he turned his attention back to his drink. The liquid caught in his throat and he thought he'd choke on his tongue when he saw her come through the door.

She was stunning. The black tresses were captured in a crown of spirals and diamonds. The green eyes sparkled with mischief and the body was built for sin. The woman was out for her pound of flesh and most likely whatever else she could get her hands on.

He gave the air of a man that could care less while his dick let it be known, without a doubt, that it most certainly did care. He rolled his neck and cracked his knuckles preparing for a fight. He caught her eye for the briefest of moments and looked away shyly.

Her smile didn't escape his notice. She walked up to the bar casually and ordered a white wine.

He nodded to the bartender, indicating that it was on him.

She inclined her head in his direction and her smile grew as she finished sizing him up. Setting her drink on the bar, she caught his attention and held it. She smoothed her dress, slowly sliding her hands down her ample curves, clearly enjoying the journey. Her nipples pebbled and she licked her lips suggesting far more intimate activities. He pretended not to notice as she made her way over. Instead of coming to talk to him, she worked her way behind him, stepping in close. She paused for a moment as if making up her mind to proceed. There was something about him. He looked like any other schmuck trying to drown his problems in a bar, but he felt different. Why did she picture him as breathtaking? There was more to this guy than meets the eye. She felt a quicksilver flash of mischief, a sudden urge to break his control and bring out whatever it was that he was hiding.

She slid up closer, pressing herself against his back. He smiled and leaned back into her, turning his head to the side.

"What may I do for you" he asked.

She held a finger to his lips leaned forward, bringing her mouth to his ear. "Don't mind me, just go ahead with what you were doing."

He frowned, and then grasped her wrist, pulled her hand down gently. "Is there something you need?" he asked

She smiled coyly, wrapping her arms around his chest. "Nothing that I can't find for myself."

She smiled, watching him turn back to the bar. She tucked her chin over his shoulder, watching him swirl his scotch. She slowly slid her hands down to the waistband of his slacks.

His breath caught, and then returned to normal. He gave no sign of stopping her, but he didn't help her either. She ran the tip of her tongue cord along the back of his neck and smiled as she felt him shiver slightly. She ran her hands along is growing bulge. It was heady to feel the effect she was having on him, even if he wouldn't acknowledge it. It would only be a matter of time. She applied more pressure to his growing erection and felt him squirm. His head dropped back against her shoulder with a quiet moan. She laughed softly and kissed the side of his throat, then looked over his shoulder again to watch his body react to her.

She relaxed her grip, just holding him now, enjoying the jolts as he flexed against her hand. After a few moments, she released him, took his glass from his hand and downed the last of his drink.

"Why don't we go someplace more private?" She asked on a whisper.

"While that's a lovely idea, I'm afraid my heart belongs to another."

"That's all well and good, but your body isn't worried about your loyalty, from the feel of it. She can have your heart. I just want to get fucked until I speak in tongues; no heart required."

"In that case..." He stiffened, his face registering a flash of disappointment for a moment before he grinned wolfishly. "You know, I think I like you." He took a sip of his drink as he arched into her squeezing hand.

She smiled this time, then leaned in to whisper to him. "I am flattered, let's find somewhere a little more comfortable. This is going to be a glorious fuck and I intend to make the most of every stroke."

Armand leaned in to whisper back to her. "Although, I wasn't thinking about fucking you." As she raised her eyebrows. stunned, stood and grabbed her wrist. "I was thinking more along the lines of how good you would look on your knees, sucking my cock. I have a feeling that you are a world class cocksucker."

She actually stuttered and almost blushed. Taking a gulp of her drink to cover her lapse, Ameliè finally looked back at the man, pasting what she had hoped was a sultry smile on her face.

Pleased at her reaction he pulled her closer, leaning in as he whispered again. "I was right, wasn't I? Your mouth is magic, isn't it? I can tell by how you reacted. I can also tell that you're getting wet, thinking about being on your knees, sucking my dick."

Ameliè couldn't look away. She hadn't been shy about what she wanted from him, but to be called on it so blatantly was doing things to her insides. The guy was supposed to be a mark, and here he was firmly putting her in her place. She kind of liked it. Not only did she want to suck him off, but she wanted him to be pleased with her.

He pulled her into the men's room. She checked to see that no one was watching and followed along dutifully.

"Get on your knees", he growled as he locked the door. She started to protest, this was her show after all.

"One word, one complaint and you may go."

She gushed. No one ever spoke to her that way or stood up to her.

She watched in awe as he pulled out his cock. "Take it."

What else could she do? She took it. In her hands, in her mouth. She tasted him, felt his dick throb and grow as she worked it over expertly. "That's it. Take it. Suck my dick you little slut." Ameliè found herself taking him deeper, until the tip slid past the last of her resistance.

As Ameliè took his dick in, she felt the man's hand on her head and heard his voice.

He thought about holding her head in his hands and fucking her devilish mouth. This would be too good of a chance to pass up. Leaning against the stall wall, he placed one hand on her chin, the other on the back of her head, bucked against her. She did have such pretty little mouth. "That's it. Take my dick. Take it like a good little cocksucker." She licked and sucked, swirling her tongue around the shaft, reveling in the taste and texture of his cock.

"Oh, if this is how you go about searching for true love, you're doing a fine job. Who wouldn't love such a beautiful little slut. Giving head to some poor sucker in a bathroom like a common whore. Is this the love you're looking for Ameliè?"

He knew her name? She tried pulling back to find his hands at the back of her head.

"Oh we are far from done Cher. I've offered you my heart, and this is what you prefer."

The panic set in. she had to fight the urge to freak out. Closing her eyes, and trying her hardest to relax, even with the invader lodged in her throat, Ameliè, tried to touch his mind.

She reeled as if she'd hit a brick wall.

He continued to stroke into her mouth.

"No Cher, you do not get to see my mind. If you want to know me, just ask."

Mumbling some semi-cheesy incantation, he felt the trim salt and pepper hair grow into ink black silky locks. The black eyes turned slate grey and his suit fell away, replaced by the black that he usually favored. He had known that Amelié would come to him. He hadn't cared if it had been by hook or crook. It was good to be back to his old self. It was even better having her kneeling before him, worshipping his cock.

"How does it feel to finally lose that coveted control? Answer me my dear Ameliè." He didn't give her a chance to answer, his hand guiding her head as he fucked her face, pushing his cock deep down into her mouth then pulling back before thrusting in again. She looked up, nearly fell back as she recognized him. Gone was the stranger she had entered the bathroom with, replaced by Armand. Panic, anger, humiliation, and something else, something that she couldn't quite put her finger on, flooded her senses. Much the same way her pussy flooded and leaked down her thighs. He still got to her.

His pace increased as Ameliè fought to get loose. Armand pulled out suddenly and as she fell to the floor. No longer held fast, she fought to gather her senses.

He smiled at her, slowly placing his cock back in his pants and zipping himself up. "I was right...you are a fantastic cocksucker. When you decide that you need more than someone to ride roughshod over, let me know. This is really no way to find true love my pet. I'll let you get cleaned up." His pants back in place, the man adjusted his jacket and without another word left the room.

Ameliè knelt on the floor, the taste of him still in her mouth, in disbelief that not only was Armand here, but she had just been more than intimate with him and hadn't even known it was him

Standing up on shaky legs, Ameliè looked at herself in the mirror. She looked like a well used wreck. She hated him, she loved him, and she ached for him. At the same moment she realized how turned on sucking him off had made her, a burst of shame filled her and she grabbed some paper towels, quickly fixing herself up before making her way out of the men's room. He would not get away with using her this way, even as her body ached for him to do it again. She would have him again, on her terms. She would ensure that it would be her fantasy come true.