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This story is a continuation of Learning Pleasure (https://www..com/s/learning-pleasure). I’ve done my best to make it enjoyable without reading the previous stories. But I believe readers might care about the characters more if they start at the beginning.
The crowd was like a fog, and Aria Thames the sun. The dense cloud of people on the dance floor and around the bar parted like wisps before her. Aria had something mysterious about her — something almost magical. Things always went her way. From gliding through crowds, to acquiring power, to women.
To me: Carol Small, mother, housewife, in my thirties. And very much going Aria’s way, like everything else in Aria’s world. I was going Aria’s way, wherever she might lead me.
Maybe it was beauty that got Aria everything she wanted. Every single piece of Aria’s physical presence in the world defined perfection, from her long legs to her tight, flat tummy, to her pert, round breasts to her inky black hair.
Maybe it was clothes. Aria was wearing them, but barely. Her strapless dress barely got started in time to cover her breasts and screeched to a halt the moment her butt was covered. Her heels weren’t costume-hooker height, but they definitely weren’t flat.
Maybe it was money. Her father was the majority owner of one of the country’s oldest and wealthiest law firms.
Since she was eighteen, some might imagine that youth contributed to the ease of Aria’s life, but I disagreed. I had an eighteen-year-old daughter. I knew girls that age weren’t, as a general rule, composed. They were bubbly, mercurial, tempermental, dramatic and above all else, they were growing into life and learning. Eighteen-year old girls weren’t smooth, they weren’t sleek, they weren’t composed and dominant.
Eighteen-year-old girls were often ready to take on the world.
Aria Thames had the world at her feet.
And she enjoyed letting it feel her stiletto heel and wine-painted toenail occasionally, just to remind it where it stood.
I fell for her when Aria walked up to me at a party and offered me a glass of bourbon she should have been three years too young to get.
I was married, I was straight, and I was twice her age. But everything went Aria’s way. Everything. Now I was locked in her orbit, forgetting to worry about whether my husband would eventually find out, forgetting to worry about my excitable, melodramatic daughter and what she might think of her mother having a lesbian affair with her fellow senior.
I wore a dress Aria picked out for me, maybe even more revealing than hers. She liked red and black. She wore red, so I wore black. Like hers, the hemline was miniscule. Unlike hers, mine was so high necked it competed with the diamond necklace she had given me. It had a big oval cutout right between my breasts that showed most of them.
The necklace was an overwhelming gift that had been part of my seduction. I guessed at a value of $30,000 for the diamond choker, though I was unqualified to guess at dollar values that big. One way or another, I had more money around my neck than my husband drove to work every day.
And then there was the garter.
Probably equally extravagant in terms of cost.
And snug right at the top of my thigh, scratching my butt a little bit. And still I showed a flash of sparkle with every step, my dress was so short.
Aria was a girl playing dressup with her new favorite doll.
I just hadn’t quite gotten used to being a barbie.
On our first date, she taught me about pleasing another woman. On our first date, she taught me how it feels to give, and give, and give, and not receive. On our first date, she taught me to call her Mistress.
Now I followed where she led, still uncertain about everything submission meant, but certain that I loved it. I loved Aria commanding me. I loved obeying. I loved wearing what she told me, going where she told me, doing what she told me.
Her father owned the law firm where my husband worked, so Aria found it easy to get him out of town when she wanted me to herself. My daughter, too, had been whisked away when Aria found some of her friends to invite Lisa to a weekend trip.
When both of them came home and announced they were going out of town for the weekend, I knew what was coming: another weekend with Aria. Another weekend pleasing Aria. Another weekend belonging to Aria.
But we were only on the second of our weekends together. I didn’t yet understand just how far my obedience could be pushed.
“Pick out a girl, Plaything.”
I could barely hear her over the pounding electronic music. The frantic beat drove my heart faster just listening to it. The sampled vocals sounded high and exotic.
“Choose the girl you’re going to go down on tonight.”
She didn’t mean… she couldn’t possibly mean… the kids these days must use that slang term to mean something other than what it meant to people of my and my husband’s generation. Maybe poker oyna the deafening club music made me mishear.
“Um…. I choose you?”
Aria giggled. “That’ll be the second girl you go down on tonight, Plaything. Choose the first. Pick out the girl you’re going to kneel before and service. I’ll seduce her, don’t worry about that. It’s what I do. But you choose who.”
My jaw dropped open. I stared at her, mouth opening and closing like a fish.
She threw her head back and laughed. Then Aria leaned in close to me, so I could smell the light, fruity perfume around her neck. Her lips brushed my ear. She spoke right into it, so there was no question of whether I could hear her.
“What did you think, when you begged on your knees to give me every kinky pleasure I could imagine, Plaything? Did you think we’d stay comfortably in my bedroom and you’d keep doing what you already knew how to do? I like watching girls give pleasure they never imagined before. I wouldn’t keep you if I was going to be bored.
“Tonight, you will apply those oral skills you worked so hard to learn with me, to a girl you meet in the next thirty minutes. You will give this lucky girl the most amazing orgasm she’s ever had in her life. And I am going to love watching the show.”
“I… um… Mistress, I…”
Aria was making faces at me again. She liked to strike these elaborate, thoughtful poses when teasing me about our relationship.
“When I asked you what you would give me in exchange for the pleasure of getting to serve me… what was your answer, Plaything?”
“Every kinky pleasure you could imagine,” I replied. There was no other answer to give. I remembered our first weekend together as thoroughly as she did. I knew exactly what I promised. I just… didn’t know what I was getting myself into. I thought… I don’t know, maybe she’d want to have sex out on her private balcony, where no one else could see, but we’d at least be in public. Or maybe she’d want me to give her road head in the limo. Not…
“Yes, you promised exactly that, Plaything. And when I asked for specifics? When I asked you to tell me what you would do? Do you remember your answer?”
I did. She had made her point. I had no way out of this. Not if I wanted the relationship I had begged for.
I repeated it, because she was the Mistress and I the Plaything.
“Isn’t that a call for the Princess to make, not her subject?”
“Exactly. And I made the call. Choose a girl.”
I sucked in my breath and surveyed the crowd, wondering who to choose. What would I like in a girl? What would make it easier for me? What I liked about Aria was all attitude — she never asked. She never even ordered. She just expected that I would do what she wanted.
How could I find a girl like that just based on scanning the crowd?
The club was packed, and even if the majority were guys, there was still a healthy minority of women, and picking out one of them was harder than it looked. From Daisy Dukes to miniskirts to tight leggings with sheer cutouts, they all dressed hot, looking for sex. Black hair, brown hair, red hair, they seemed to weave around me like an incoming tide around a rock in the bay.
And there she was.
She was a lot closer to Aria’s age than mine, blonde with jaw length hair, wearing a sexy blue clubbing dress that showed a lot of her back. It would have qualified as a pretty short dress except when compared to Aria and me.
She looked nice.
Something about her face said she wouldn’t make fun of me.
I got Aria’s attention and nodded at her.
My Mistress grinned at me. She turned, and looked at the blonde. She gave her a thorough looking over, from her hemline to her face, then back down to her thighs. Aria was definitely a leg woman.
“Nice taste Plaything.”
She made her way to the bar, picked up three drinks, gave one to me. And then she headed toward our future bed partner, slicing through the crowd like an icebreaker through the arctic.
Aria slowed down; gave me a second to catch up so I could be immediately behind her and to her right, close enough to be touching her in the crowd. And then, together, we walked up to the girl I had indicated. She was just coming back from the dance floor, heading to her group of friends.
Aria held out a glass of bourbon to her.
The girl looked kind of confused. At a guess, she was here for the guys, and being offered a drink by two women wasn’t on her shopping list tonight. I remembered the feeling quite well, it had been mine around a month ago.
But Aria simply held the tumbler there, and spoke with her eyes and with her face. She gave a playful half-grin, held her head angled slightly to one side, and arched her eyebrows as if to ask, “Are you going to be rude about this?”
The girl accepted the drink. Her lips said “Thanks,” but I couldn’t hear it over the thudding, electronic bass.
Aria stepped closer to the girl. Very much in her space. Very nearly touching. canlı poker oyna She leaned in to put her lips almost in contact with the girl’s ear, her nose brushing that blonde hair.
I couldn’t hear, but I imagined names being exchanged.
The girl sipped the drink Aria had given her, and her eyebrows went up. Again, this was a reaction I had had myself. Aria liked extremely expensive craft bourbon, and the smooth taste always caught one by surprise the first time.
Aria touched her glass to the blonde’s when the blonde brought it back down from her lips. She made eye contact with the girl, and then drank the whole thing. The girl drank again, finishing what was in the glass. Aria took both of them, dropped them on a standing table not far away. I did the same.
Standing behind her — so close behind her my breast rubbed on her back — I still couldn’t hear Aria speak, but I could see the edges of her lips move.
The girl replied with a bemused look on her face. I was no lip reader, but I thought I caught the gist of it: “Just you, or both of you?”
I actually did hear Aria’s reply, and had my suspicions confirmed. “Both.”
Aria led us out to the dance floor, where she worked a magic I knew well. She danced with a seductive grace that once lured me irresistibly in. It would, I expected, work just as well on this girl as it had on me.
Which caused my heart rate to elevate a little bit. Remembering what I was going to be doing with her tonight, I tried to give her a fresh looking over before the dance washed completely over us. Nice legs, which was where I would be spending most of my time. Small breasts, but pert and firm, and with a look in her eye and her smile that said she was holding back a giggle about two girls trying to pick her up.
Aria took the girl by the hand and guided her into a rhythm I could feel even beside them. Then she led me by the hand until I arrived right in front of our new third as Aria slid behind her, body pressed to the new girl’s. She put her hands on the blonde’s hips, guiding them back and forth, swaying to the rhythm. I moved in time and eased closer to the third.
Three words moved across her lips, mostly lost to the pounding electronic beat, but the last one might have been “Name.”
Aria’s face appeared over the girl’s shoulder to invite me in, so I leaned forward as Aria had. New Girl’s blonde hair tickled my lips as I said “Carol” into her ear. I wanted to say “the Plaything,” but I wasn’t sure how it would go over this early.
I hadn’t been paying enough attention. I was caught by surprise when I heard “Naomi” in my own ear.
And then Aria led us both to move again.
Bodies weaved in a pattern I could but follow, not understand. I swayed my hips and danced with Naomi in front. And then, as if the music itself made it happen, I found myself behind Aria, letting my hips and hands move to the beat.
I set my fingers on Aria’s hips to move with her. And because it was Aria, those fingers moved of their own accord, further forward, almost toying with the hem of her dress.
The rhythm drove us, twirling and panting, until I was behind Naomi now. All my nervousness about tonight bubbled up inside me, but again Aria locked eyes with me over the new girl’s shoulder.
She said nothing, but the lust in her eyes alone reminded me of tonight’s goal, and I made myself pull in close. I pressed my whole body against Naomi from behind, until the rhythmic swaying of my hips became a kind of grinding behind her. I could feel her hard-muscled rump, feel it move under me. I felt her pressing back against me, driven more by instinct than choice.
We swayed around eachother. Aria’s touches were always bold, and the power of her confidence made the dance into more than it might have been. Every change in the beat brought bodies into contact, someone’s hair into my face, someone’s hand on my hips or backside.
The pulsing music drove an instinctive, sensual contact between all three of us that mingled like a mystical blend of rap music and poetry — hard, grinding, driven, soft, delicate & tender.
I was staring to feel less afraid of getting to Aria’s condo tonight, and more eager for it.
As something with a lilting flute mixed into the techno bassline played, I found myself behind Naomi, caressing her. Aria pressed tightly to her front, breast to breast, hip to hip. And lips to lips. From the side, I watched Aria kiss her.
Seeing that kiss, envy, jealousy, arousal and anticipation boiled in a complicated brew that started in my chest and quickly fell down between my legs as heat and desire. I felt it in my guts, in my chest, in my head. “*I* am Aria’s,” exploded in my head, washing out all the other thoughts. “*I* am!”
Even forewarned that the goal of the night was for me to pleasure Naomi — seeing Aria kiss her made me want to claim my place.
Aria’s hand slipped between my hips and Naomi’s ass, grabbing her in a way I could feel on my own sex. That weird internet casino blend of possessiveness, jealousy and arousal bubbled over the edge of the pot and spilled onto the raw heat. Steam rose in my body that I couldn’t resist.
That touch put an end to all my fear and hesitation. I was lost to the lust Aria knew how to stir up.
I was going to fly Naomi to the moon when we got her home. And when I was finished pleasuring her, I was going to remind Aria why *I* was the Plaything, and this girl was only our guest.
The emotions were too complicated to work out. I wanted Naomi to know that *I* was Aria’s. I wanted Aria to know I wasn’t going to let this girl take my place.
I wanted to be between Naomi’s legs. I wanted her to be writhing under my kisses, and to know that I was experienced at this, I belonged here, and she was only a beginner.
But I wanted Aria to feel the same kisses, and from them understand my devotion; my submission.
I couldn’t describe how they all mixed together and became more potent than any desire I had ever felt before. But I knew this: Both women were heading for new heights of pleasure tonight, and I was going to do it for them.
Aria leaned in, her lips right at Naomi’s ear, and I leaned in a little to be nearer. I didn’t want to be left out.
“Want to get out of here?”
My head was on Aria’s side, so I didn’t hear the response. But I didn’t need to. Next Aria led us both off the dance floor, and my heart pounded like the bass in the music, driving blood and heat and aching, powerful lust down below my waist.
I saw Naomi give a playful wave to her friend group; it said ‘tell you all about it tomorrow!’
“You’re going to be telling about the most incredible head you’ve ever had,” I thought.
How had I ever been afraid of this? How had I ever thought it would be awkward? Watching Aria kiss her, feeling Aria touch her — they gave me a hunger for Naomi that got stronger with every passing moment.
The elevator ride was unbearable; we were in the middle of eight people; everything I wanted would have to wait. But once we emerged into the lobby, and then went out the front doors, I saw Naomi’s future waiting for us at the curb: Aria’s stretch limo. Kadie, the driver, got out and held the back door open as we approached, and Naomi stopped in her tracks.
“Wait. That’s yours?”
Aria giggled. With the slightest nod and glance, she indicated that I should do the honors, so I rested my hand on Naomi’s ass and guided her toward the limo.
She levered herself into the back seat, taking care to keep her legs together and her dress in place. Aria showed no such caution, flashing any onlookers who could catch a glimpse past the door and Kadie. I got in last, as heedless of modesty as my Mistress.
Once in the limo, I found my Mistress already straddling Naomi’s lap, kissing her so hot and wet the sound of it made my mouth water. She had the new girl’s dress halfway pushed up, and I could catch glimpses of Aria’s naked sex as she ground against the blonde’s thigh.
My mistress moved her eyes left to me, and the expectation that I join in was clear. I scootched right up next to Naomi, rested my hand on the thigh Aria wasn’t humping, and kissed her cheek.
Aria got her head out of the way, and Naomi leaned over to kiss me, and her tongue parting my lips and exploring my mouth was like throwing the switch on electricity all the way through every inch of my body.
“You are about to get off so hard,” I whispered to her when our lips parted, and she giggled.
“I think your friend is closer than I am.” Aria was really into her grinding, lips attached to Naomi’s neck, panting through her nose and making mewling sounds.
I locked eyes with new girl and held it, licking my lips. “She won’t until we get to her penthouse,” I promised. “My Mistress never has to get herself off.”
Naomi blushed, and tried to grin but was a little too taken aback to get it fully into place. “Mistress, huh? I kind of thought this might be kinky.”
Aria’s lips left the girl’s neck then, an she held them so close to the blonde’s mouth that they were kissing a little bit as she spoke.
“That’s why you came, isn’t it?”
Naomi got out “Kind of” before Aria was kissing her again.
I reached over to her other thigh, the one Aria was mashing her pussy against, and let my fingers just sit there until Aria slid her wet sex over them. Then I caressed her a little bit.
She took her lips off Naomi long enough to say, “You weren’t wrong about waiting. Not yet.”
I scooched back in the seat until I could lean over and kiss Naomi’s thigh — back on the one Aria hadn’t claimed for herself.
From that angle, I could see that New Girl was wearing something frilly and pink for underwear, and I couldn’t wait to peel it off of her. The lace didn’t hide the thatch of pubic hair between her legs, and that turned me on even more.
Aria waxed, which meant that, 1) I had never had to push my tongue through pubic hair before and 2) I usually felt like an uncouth ruffian for my bushy brown pubic hair, and I was kind of looking forward to being in the majority tonight.
“A little higher up,” Naomi panted between kisses.
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