Chapter 2 part 3 A Submissive Female Of New York City

                              Chapter 2 part 3
A Submissive Female Of New York City

"No, but are you—"

I am lying to my husband, yes. But that's not you’re doing. And if it wasn't you, sooner or later I'd probably be doing this with someone else.

Phil digested this for a moment, torn between his libido and his principles, until the waitress came back with drinks and took their food orders. Shrimp linguini for the lady. Spaghetti Bolognese for the gentleman.

Sue looked at Phil as they ate.

Have you ever wanted to just, you know, throw caution to the wind? Forget about all the rules, the regulations, just go wild?

Yes, many times. Especially— He blushed.

"Especially what?"

"Especially when looking at girls."

Sue laughed. "Do you know what I'd like to do?"

"What?"

Open your zipper and suck your cock.

Phil gaped at her.

I've felt that since I started talking to you. It's because of the way you think of blowjobs. They aren't vanilla sex to you. You think of them as BDSM, as an act of submission.

Of course.

That's what makes you so hot. I've never met a guy like you before. You get so turned on and so grateful for the littlest things. Hell, just typing out sucking your cock online makes me so horny I need a vibrator.

"Really?"

"Yes really. You can't conceive that women can enjoy blowjobs and swallowing, can you?"

"There are surveys showing that only seven percent—"

"Seven percent, not zero percent. And that's including the average woman with the average male blockhead for a partner." She leaned forward. "Tell me something. Have you ever had any kind of sex without a condom?"

"No."

"Do you have any kind of sexually transmissible disease?"

"No!" said Phil with some heat.

"Neither do I," said Sue. "And I've had the operation. I can't have children." She gave him a shrewd look.

1992 it was. Spring.

Phil noticed a girl drinking from the water fountain.

Her body... oh, god. He felt he would forsake all the art of man just to stare at that body, at that incredible hourglass waist. The sight was so lovely it brought tears to his eyes.

Her back was to him she could not see him staring. His eyes bore hungrily into her ass, round, perfect, and adorable. Her long blue jeans fit it perfectly, framing it, tempting him, tantalizing him.

More than anything else in the world, Phil wanted to touch that ass, put his hands on it, just explore it and feel it. Could he do it? He felt the desire flooding him. Just one feel. Please. Please.

He shut his eyes tightly and clenched his fists, forcing himself to walk away.

Sue insisted on splitting the tab for dinner, just as she had at lunch. "I'm a manager, you're just a young pup starting out," she admonished.

They stepped outside. It was a beautiful evening. The dying rays of the sunset poked through the pillar-like Manhattan buildings. All around were the rush of cars, the yells of shopkeepers, the bustle of pedestrians. This was New York, full of life and energy.

And in the heart of it was Sue. Middle age had not dimmed her appeal one iota. Phil unabashedly stared at her legs. Just stared. He usually had to be furtive looking at women, glancing out the side of his eyes, or turning his head ever so slightly. To look with open desire at female flesh, without having to hide himself...he felt a rush of gratitude to his friend.

Are there things you've always wanted to do with a beautiful woman?

"Tons."

Do them. Anything you want. Just don't get us arrested.

Phil ran his fingers through that hair, that long blonde hair. It wasn't like a man's hair. It was soft, silky, luxurious. It felt wonderful.

He moved his lips closer to her cheeks. They didn't have the smooth perfection of a younger woman's, but that did not diminish their appeal. Up close, he could smell her perfume. He did not know what it was called, but it was intoxicating. He'd never been close to perfume, except when having lap dances. Only a few sex workers let you kiss them even on the cheek, and none one.

Sue's lips were on his. It was his first kiss. Her tits nuzzled up against him. His hands found their way to her ass — oh god, did it feel good! Her lips parted, and he had his first taste of tongue, smooth, sensuous, and succulent. He knew she could feel his erection, and as if to confirm it, her hand snaked down and caressed it.

Phil stepped back and took her tits in his hands. In public! I can play with her tits in public! Would men be jealous? Would women be judgmental? He welcomed both. He squeezed her tits, feeling the hardness of the lacy material under her dress. She was smiling at him — smiling!

Could he do it? He put a hand on her thigh. Still, the same smug smile. Her leg felt so soft and smooth. He stroked her gently, sliding his hand up the dress.

How many hundreds of times had he seen girls in short skirts, girls in alluring dresses, girls with legs too gorgeous to be real? How many times had he longed to feel those legs, creep up those skirts?

Sue was wearing...was this a thong? It was hardly underwear at all, in the sense he understood it. It was just a thin, loose string over the wetness...

Over the wetness! Prostitutes have only a mild wetness, one the customer is never permitted to touch with fingers or tongue. Sue was wetter than any woman he had ever been with, and he could feel the warm liquid on his fingers.

Phil's hand jerked with excitement. He was feeling up a woman! Live on the street!

"Get a room!" someone yelled from a passing car. Sue grinned.

"Let's do it," she said. "I want to suck your cock so badly, it hurts."

Phil signaled an approaching cab.


To be continued