Tracy and Tyson

Three months ago, getting ready to turn 36, I decided that my life was not nearly as exciting as it could be or should be. My own analysis concluded my sex life was to blame for this present malaise. My husband, 25 years my senior, was probably not going to be my partner in curing the situation. In my college days and early 20s I was delightfully bisexual and more than dabbled in the crowd that experimented with leather, dominance and role-playing. When I married Bill, it was clear those activities were no longer on the table. But I was young and in love and he was mature, handsome, understanding and very, very wealthy. I was your classic trophy wife. Young, sexy, skinny, big tits, great hair, great face. We were the darling of the society pages although Bill frequently joked that the photographers were really after me, not us.

Bill had a son, Tyson, in his junior year at prep school. Tyson was as gorgeous as only an 18-year-old could be. He was 6 foot, incredibly handsome, incredibly well-built. Quarterback of the school's football team for the second year, he had lots of friends and was living the dream. He was 10 when Bill and I married. I did not try to assume the role of mother but rather that of a friend and sometimes companion. For his 17^th birthday I took him to a Cold Play concert at universal. He was the perfect gentleman, taking my arm as well as obvious pleasure in escorting his hot date to our front row seats. I had no ulterior motives. Coldplay was his favorite group and the concert was sold out. Looking back however I wonder about my choice of black leather from head to toe and 5 inch instead of my usual 4 inch stilettos. At intermission I bought him a beer and apologized profusely when I had a cigarette with my Chardonnay.

At first I refused to believe that Tyson could be the answer to my dilemma but the thought would not go away. I started having dreams about him and his young cock. What did he taste like, what would he feel like? But my thoughts about seducing him crystallized into place one Saturday morning at the pool. It was one of those Los Angeles Santa Ana days, already hot at 10 AM. Air-conditioning is one thing but a nice swim in the big pool is the best temporary cure for a Santa Ana. Tyson was already on a lounger with a Coke, texting some friends. I deliberately slipped off my pool robe in front of him so he could have a clear view of my incredible rack. I slipped into the water, did a couple of laps and then walked up towards him. My nipples were now obvious though my suit and pointed right at him. His erection was obvious and enormous. I grinned a little and walked past to get a towel. He immediately jumped up, tightened the towel around his waist and rushed into the house. Presumably he was going to beat off upstairs in his own bathroom. My target was Tyson. I was going to seduce him and I was going to have fun doing it.

One of the great things about law school is that it teaches discipline. Every great venture requires a plan, some careful forethought, the discipline to stick with the plan and the brains to know when it's not working and needs changing. Tyson was not my enemy but he was my target and therefore the obvious conclusion was that I needed more information about what might be going on in that 18-year-old brain of his. So on Monday morning, after the two men had cleared out of the house, I made a beeline for Tyson's room for a more than casual discovery venture. This is another thing they teach in law school, the importance of getting every bit of information you can about someone who is going to be a client or an adversary. There was no diary, not dealing with a teenage girl after all. There was his iPad and his iMac, both password-protected. Again law school to the rescue. I stopped practicing after I married Bill. But I kept my license up which required a certain amount of continuing legal education. A couple of years ago the course I enrolled in centered on electronic surveillance, but was really a lesson in hacking. After a few unsuccessful combinations of birthdates, addresses and ZIP Codes I hit the forgot password icon and was given the option to try three security questions. Color of your first car. Easy: red. Favorite sports team. Easy: LA Dodgers. Mother's maiden name? Stuck. I had no idea. More in frustration than divine inspiration, I typed in my own maiden name. Bingo! Very interesting.

I immediately open the history control and saw three URLs that seem to be repeated frequently: tube BDSM, violent chicks and tumbler. His last movie experience was a piece with an older woman and a young guy humiliating and then getting physical with an older man. Seriously? I was wet within seconds and spent the next 8.4 minutes with my hand in my crotch. I copied his history file and emailed it to myself. The next thing I discovered was his Adobe account for Photoshop and Light Room. This time I was flabbergasted. There was an album titled Tracy. That's me. The album was filled with pictures of me. I swear every photograph ever taken of me wearing something leather was in that album. And what's more some of the photos didn't look quite right until I realized there were Photoshopped so that I appeared to have a cigarette in a holder in many of them. What the hell? Then I remembered the chat I had with Tyson about smoking and how my mother and I made a deal that if I smoked less than five a day and always used one of those European cigarette holders with the extra filters she would not make a federal case out of it. I was taken with the holders for a few years and developed a small collection; a collection I was sure had been squirreled away somewhere in our storage area.

As I shut down his computer I realized as soon as he tried to logon his password would be invalid. It wouldn't take long for him to deduce the obvious. I needed another plan fast. This scheme of mine was rapidly getting out of hand until I realized there was only one solution. It was 10 AM and the security system chimed letting me know that our Latino maid was now on site. I tracked her down in the kitchen. "Gloria I need a favor and like most of my favors there is an extra 50 bucks in it for you. Somewhere in the storage area is the stuff that I brought here when I moved in. In one of those boxes is a small wooden case that has several cigarette holders inside. I need you to find that for me ASAP." I pressed a $50 bill into her uniform pocket and told her this was our secret. She nodded and left me alone to build the rest of my plan.

Thirty minutes later Gloria had found the jewelry box containing the holders. "You know Miss Tracy, you don't have to pay me extra. I like doing special favors for you."

"Gloria that is so sweet of you, thank you so much." My God this was getting more intriguing by the minute.

The broad outline of my plan was pretty simple. They say the best plans are. I would invent some excuse after Tyson arrived home to go out with him. I did have an excuse related to a charity event Bill and I were cohosting. I'd put on some casual leather and the poor boy would not know what hit him. I would confess my sins regarding his computer and hope that like most males he did most of his thinking with his cock rather than his brain.

By 3:30 I was waiting in my office retreat, nervous and excited. I put on some ridiculously expensive leather jeans, a plain white tee, perhaps a half size too small and a pair of fuck me pumps. A matching leather motorcycle jacket was at the ready. I heard Gloria welcoming "Mr. Tyson" and made my appearance as the two of them were exchanging small talk.

"Tyson, I hope you have time to do me a favor this afternoon."

I watched carefully as he turned to answer. His eyes widened and he stammered: "Sure Tracy, anything. I'm yours for the afternoon and evening too if you need it."

"Will you drive me up to Griffin Park? I'm involved in a charity event and need to check on some details. I don't think I will be there any more than 10 or 15 minutes but it's something I would rather do in person than by text or by phone. For some reason I'm not in the mood to drive. It's so nice out today, let's take the Bentley and put the top down so the world can see what a handsome couple we make."

I gave him my best smile and adjusted my posture a little as I turned so my tits would stick out even more. It worked. His eyes were glued to them; in fact so were Gloria's. This was even turning me on and I could feel my nipples stiffen.

The drive up to Griffin Park from our place is about 20 minutes, maybe a little longer this time of day. Tyson's a great driver so I relaxed knowing the way I looked I was a wet dream for any male. It is so fun being filthy rich.

"Tyson, would it bother you terribly if I had a cigarette? The last few days I've had a craving for some crazy reason."

"Go ahead Tracy, it will be our secret."

I deliberately waited until we were on the driveway to Griffin Park. My hands were shaking, nerves and excitement. I finally found my pack of parliaments in my Louis Vuitton bag, fumbled around a little more for my gold lighter and then the pièce de résistance: a black and gold Dunhill holder just a little longer than the cigarette. I made a bit of a show twisting the cigarette into the holder and adjusting it so if was perfectly aligned before setting it between my teeth. Giving Tyson a big sexy smile, I playfully reminded him to keep his eyes on the road before I lit up. This was going to be so fucking easy. I don't know how the poor boy managed to park trying to keep one eye on me. I didn't make it easy as I kept the holder between my teeth and pretended to look for some papers in my purse. But park he did and turned the car off. I got out and walked around to Tyson's side.

"Tyson, I don't think I'll be more than 10 minutes. While I'm in there there's another favor I'm going to ask of you."

"Sure, what is it?"

"Don't play with your cock while I'm gone. I'll look after it when I get back. Understood?"

Poor boy couldn't speak, but he did nod, so I turned, letting him have one final profile and strutted up the walk into the park admin office. My heart was pounding, my palms were sweaty and I felt like Queen of the world. This boy, this young man, was going to be mine.

Inside I accepted the compliments of the staff on how exceptional I looked and offered some flimsy excuse that I needed an agenda for the Gala. I wasn't in there three minutes and I was on my way back to Tyson. I put a fresh cigarette in my holder but I didn't light it. I did get quite a few stares from passersby, most of them jealous, the rest in admiration. I returned every smile and why not, I was in total control.

I walked up to Tyson's side of the Bentley. I let him have a nice long look at his new goddess and then told him to put the top up and went around to the other side and climbed in.

"Tyson we have a lot to talk about, but first," I reached across and laid the palm of my hand over his cock. He was as big maybe even bigger than I hoped he would be and as hard as only a teenage boy could be. "I'm glad you didn't cum." I ran my hand up and down the length of his cock with just enough pressure for pleasure but not enough to make him cum. I squeezed and stroked. I think he was twice as big as Bill. I wanted to get it out and into my mouth but this wasn't the place for that.

"If you keep doing that I'm going to make a mess." he warned.

"Thank you for advance notice, you're a real gentleman. Let's go downtown to Vanderpump's restaurant. They have some almost private booths where we can talk."

"They also have a patio area which is pretty private and considered outdoors so you are allowed to smoke there."

"Even better. I like the way you think."

At the restaurant, I took Tyson's arm as we followed the waiter to a table at the back of the patio. Nice and private, just what I wanted. I asked the waiter to rearrange the place setting so we could sit together.

"By the way, are you still allowed to smoke out here?"

"Yes ma'am; I will bring an ashtray."

I slid my hand over to Tyson's crotch and stroked his prick. He was still rock hard. And why not he was with the hottest piece of ass he had ever seen. I squeezed him one final time and then found my cigarettes, extracted one from the pack twisted it into my holder. The waiter returned with an ashtray and a lighter I leaned forward touching the tip of the cigarette to the flame but holding the young man's gaze all the time. "Thank you, Bobby," I said after looking at his name tag. "We will have a couple of champagnes, please and thank you. And don't worry, Tyson just turned 21 yesterday."

"Of course, I will bring them right over along with some menus."

What I wanted wasn't on the menu. I took a slight drag through my holder and then reached over and pulls Tyson's face to mine and kissed his mouth at the same time exhaling some smoke. There, I did it in full view of anyone watching at Los Angeles' most popular restaurant. Tyson was quick to push his tongue and I responded in kind. After a few seconds of that I broke off the kiss and whispered in his ear, "if there's no one you recognize around reach up and squeeze on my tits nice and hard don't be afraid."

To his credit he did glance around and slowly brought his hand up and over my right breast squeezed it, played with the nipple a bit and then squeezed and twisted it perfectly. Now I was the one in danger of having the premature orgasm.

"Okay, stud let's slow down a bit. We will have to be careful in public but I can tell you right now there's a chemistry with us that is going to create some fucking magic. Just remember, I'm in charge. I don't want you to initiate anything until we have a little better idea of where this is going. I need to get to know you a bit better, to know what you like, to know what turns you on and to know what turns you off. I want to make this is good for you as I think it is going to be for me."

"Jesus, Tracy I have dreamed of this and dreamed of you from the moment Dad first brought you home. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. I daydream about you constantly. None of the girls I hang around with hold a candle to you."

"I want to hear about your girlfriends. I want you to tell me about your experiences and I know you've had some. I've seen the way some of the girls look at you. But there will be lots of time for that." I surreptitiously squeezed his cock again and thought about jerking him off right here right now but we were interrupted again by the waiter bringing the champagne. I made him wait as I leaned into Tyson

I broke off the kiss and brought my holder back up between my teeth. I kept my eyes on Tyson and imperiously told the waiter he could pour.

Over the next two hours I played the enchanted girlfriend, hanging on to every word, smiling and encouraging him whenever he seemed to hold back. Squeezing his arm, rewarding his most secret revelations then a squeeze on his cock for a few seconds, most of the time in front of everyone. I apologized for hacking into his Mac but instead of being upset he seemed to be awed by the fact that this was in my repertoire.

"Tell me Tyson," I said as he sipped more champagne, "What turns you on more? Commanding women were being commanded by them."

"I think I'm really turned on by both. I don't have a lot of experience, really none until today with someone I would call naturally dominant. But most of the girls I'm with seem to enjoy when I take the lead.

"Fantastic. I think I know a way we can explore both of those dreams of yours. How would you like to fuck one of your girlfriends while I torment her with a riding crop or force her head between my legs, or both?"

"Oh my God, Tracy, that would be heaven. Would you really do that with me or for me?"

"Tyson I think in our private world anything is possible and I mean absolutely anything. I believe the secret will be taking it one step at a time, continuously pushing the envelope for both of us. Now I'm going to ask you something and I want you to be perfectly honest. There's no right answer there's no wrong answer and whatever the answer is it will not change the way I feel about you. Have you had any gay experiences or have you thought of that in any way?"

His head jerked up and I thought that perhaps I'd gone too far. "No, no experiences. I have thought about it and I'm pretty sure there have been a couple of guys who wanted to hit on me. You can tell that kind of thing. I think if I was so inclined, I would be a natural dominant. The idea of me being somebody's bitch just doesn't sit right with me.

Perfect. Time to reward the boy. I put a fresh cigarette into my holder, lit it myself and gave the waiter and eat shit and die look. "Finish your champagne, Tyson. It's time to go home."