I rolled over burying my face in the pillow. I didn’t care what she said. I wanted to know what she was up to. Many thoughts and scenarios rushed through my mind. I lay there thinking hard, wondering where she was and what she was up to.
I imagined that I’d followed her out, watched as she ran down the steps, her long hair trailing after her. She’d hop into a cab and her coat would ride up so I’d be able to see the tops of her stockings. Stockings meant suspenders and suspenders meant no ugly pantyhose.
I’d keep my distance as the taxi sped through the quiet streets. It would stop in a seedy part of town where there were old warehouses. I’d cut my lights and idled along, just like in the movies. When she knocks on a door someone wearing a dark robe will answer it.
I can’t see what the person looks like as the light from inside the room shadows his face. She slips inside and I’m left to wonder what to do next. I decide to cruise by slowly; my lights still off and park just around the corner of the building.
What would happen next?
Faint music would be coming from inside. There are windows but they are too high for me to see into. Skirting around the back I’d find an old milk crate. I take it with me back to a window and balance carefully on it. I’m able to peer inside, just between the crack of the curtain.
This room is a dining room. A huge wooden table dominates the room with large, ornate chairs that could seat about twenty people. Nothing at all mysterious about this room, quite boring actually and then I see someone walk past the room so I’d pull back on instinct, become more interested and grab my crate and go to the other side.
Can’t have my fantasy too boring. I’d have to make it more exciting.
This room would be nothing like the other. This one is decked out with what looks like thick and luxurious carpet, with deep mahogany furniture and plush red velvet covers. There is a huge chair, more like a throne, placed at the centre of one of the walls. Small tables and armchairs are scattered about the room.
Large wooden posts are attached to the ceiling at the same end as the throne and there is a crate or cage with wooden bars nearby, an array of whips adorn the wall and in a glass cabinet I spy dildos, vibrators and other interesting toys.
Yes, that gives it a definite intriguing atmosphere.
Voices alert me to the doorway. Sheila is leading the way, wearing a long purple robe. As she walks, the gown parts and underneath I see she is still wearing the sexy teddy and definitely stockings and suspenders. Her hair is draped around her like a shawl. Even from this distance I’ll be able to see she has her face beautifully made up and as she heads for the throne, others will enter the room. All will be women.
Sheila will be the only one in purple. She’ll stand out, look special. Some will have black, some red and two girls will sit at Sheila’s feet wearing white tunics, white see through tunics. I’ll peer harder, nearly topple off the crate to see if either of them are wearing underwear.
They won’t! Dark nipples will stand out like beacons as the girls cross their legs to sit on the floor. Most of the armchairs will be taken up. Waitresses, dressed only in a short apron and nothing else, their breasts swaying as they walk will enter as well as two men wearing tight leather pants and no shirts. They’ll stand on either side of the girls who are at Sheila’s feet, their arms crossed, muscles flexed.
My pussy throbs as I plan which way to go from here.
I’d be intrigued for many reasons. Firstly, that Sheila would be the head of anything as she is normally such a mouse. Secondly, that women would dominate this room. They’d have to be part of some sort of association, which definitely has nothing to do with the library association. Thirdly, naked female waitresses will serve drinks to women who slap them on the arse or pinch their breasts. They’ll be so submissive that they show no reaction.
My hand steals down to my pussy and I feel the heat emancipating from there and I smile. This is the randiest I’ve felt for ages.