Mistress of the Summer Wine

An original work. Comments welcome. If reproduced,
please obtain author's permission. Thank you.

Curvy. Statuesque and ageless with grace,
She'd a light-hearted facade that well hid her sage
Wisdom of men and how she can deceive
With her distracting body. It gives her time to weave
Snares in their subconscious, to bind them transfixed
As powerless to stop her, she imprisons their sex.

They met in a bar when he spotted this flirt
As she bent for her handbag in a tight moulding skirt
Her beautiful rear she'd squeezed into it's frame
With a stocking-topped bottom that drew in his aim
He looked to his friends as he mimicked big breasts
But spent too much time in his mammary jest
She'd spotted his joking and on instinct she acted
Manoeuvring towards him while he was distracted

Spinning back they collided, knocking over her wine
The 'accident' perfect, just as she'd designed
Knowing her prey-meat and how to arouse
She watched as he watched wine soak through her blouse.

The wine, half revealing, made overt his erection
Obvious to anyone on casual inspection
But hidden from her by her protruding chest
Til his hands moved to cover his unwanted guest
Seeing movement she stepped back to look at his shame
And from that fateful moment, she began her sly game

Her mock anger softened and they began conversation
She played herself timid, gauging his inclination
He took her for an innocent not a capable minx
Who fed sex to his soul as she plied him with drinks
Too much stimulation - he felt his head spin
Making her job the easier as she reeled his mind in

He walked her to her house at her playful request
But was soon in her home and down to his vest
As she insisted he took off his own wine-soaked shirt
And all the time, she continued to flirt.
She bolted her door but he didn't hear
From back in her lounge hunting round for a beer.

She changed out of her own sodden see-thru attire
Knowing men eat the visual, she'd feed his desire.
Coming out of her bedroom and into the lounge
Her curves emphasised in her narrow waist gown.
Striding opened the gown, and the whole world went quiet:
Heels!. Stockings! Suspenders! A man's staple diet!!!

For his ego she told him he looked just like Conan.
(Though it wasn't the analogy that I would have chosen)
She ducked back from her bedroom but continued her blarney.
“Here put on these cuffs. You'll look just like Arnie.”
His vanity secured them quite tight round his wrists.
In celebration she spun him in hug-dancing twists
Until giddy, he fell back upon her settee
Where she proceeded to run her hand up past his knee.

Her confident touch found his sensitive crotch
He felt vulnerable now so he looked for his watch
As he made his excuses. He wanted to go
But she sat on his lap feeling her power grow

Weakened by drink and hormonal barrage
She turned his screw further by applying massage
When she ran round behind him to loosen his shoulders
His strength leaked away only making her bolder.
One more signal needed to complete her trap
It followed at once when he eased his head back

Acting too fast for his dulled mind to follow
... until he leant forward... and found he'd been collared!!!
Tensing stomach to pull forward she tied back his hope
Anchoring his collar with some sort of rope.
He threw hands back in panic to stop her in her tracks
She locked wrists to collar and spoke a wry “thanks”.

The stiff leather posture held him blind to her actions
As she moved back in front with his body in traction
Once she tied both his legs leaving just scope to wriggle
Admiring her victim she stifled a giggle

Slowly reeling the neck rope his body pulled back
Thrusting his sex up for her next attack
Arched over the sofa she cut off his pants.
Then ran her thumb over her prize of a glans.
Tying his balls off, one to each side
Trapped out in the open with nowhere to hide.
She interchanged stroking with a series of pinches
'Til she basked in the triumph his teak-hard eight inches.

She teased and denied him for quite a long time
Dripping wet with frustration she soon had him crying
Until shaking with need she locked open his sex
With a spreader placed 'tween the top of his legs.

As his ankles were freed and the neck rope released
He fell off the sofa and onto wide knees
Where his face met her sex now soaking with want
She pulled his dry tongue, to her succulent font.
So desperate was he that his hips started rocking
As his sex sought sensation between her legs formed in stockings.

His mounting desire tasted nylon caress
Until her legs parted, just seconds to his mess
His shaking frustration just enhanced her pleasure
As she pulled his head tight in to get some more pressure.
Humping his mouth worked his tongue to exhaustion
Her tingling sex sated just after her fourth one

Pushing his head back he'd no words to beg
Yet once more he found himself humping her leg
With her stockings so soft and his need so abhorrent
All that he knew was the raging caged TORRENT
Of a climax he sought but his Mistress denied him
Until she saw fit or until she untied him

She pulled back to forestall him but at last he could see
Strong legs placed apart, his eyes fixed on her V
Hands placed on hips in dominant pose
There were very sharp thorns on that beautiful rose.
He'd now suffer the thorns for a scent of that flower
Transformed as he was by the exchange of power.
And in framing that thought, in his new sublimation
His Torrents broke jail without stimulation...

... Still joyful with fear as he made his way home
His freedom has gone. His sex no longer roams.
He can't even jack off. That's under strict veto
By a chastity belt only she has the key to.
A well endowed man with his old friend in prison
His rampant sex harnessed by this warrior vixen.

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Page last updated 04-Jun-04 by: Altairboy@aol.com