s*x Beyond the Fringe

Chapter Two

Chapter Two

Of Things to Come

Had anyone managed to get through the executive suite and past the guarding secretary to the corner office so as to look in on the Senior Vice President for Sales, they would have found a trimly attractive middle-aged lady, sitting as usual in front of her computer screen with her back to the door. Her caller might have taken a moment to study her slender figure from behind: those narrow sloping shoulders, impeccably dressed in that well-tailored business suit, the silver-gray hair so neatly arranged in sculpted waves, and cropped high in back in that clean, crisp look that so mirrored Miriam Gresham-Washbornes’ briskly efficient personality.

He might have been struck by how the woman sat there so perfectly still, ramrod straight, her gaze on the flat screen, blue-grey eyes behind the wire-rimmed classes unseeing, as colorful starbursts rolled by repeated over and over again by the mindless screensaver. The interloper, finding himself suddenly reluctant to interrupt that reverie, might very quietly close the door and turn away rightly concluding that Ms Washbornes’ thoughts were far away, and that the Lady would not take kindly to being disturbed. A visitor would never have guessed that those thoughts had been drawn back, beyond the city, to a now-familiar room at the Holiday Inn out along the state highway.

***

Miriam found that happened to her a lot of late. She was having a hard time concentrating on work. There were hours on end, whole days lost when she was repeatedly swept up in a cascade of searing erotic images. It was an obsession that threatened to rage out of control; her thoughts constantly invaded by lustful images of her fair-haired boy sitting in that chair, bear-chested, watching with that smug grin of his as she undressed before him, nervous and hesitant, avoiding his smirking eyes.

Once stripped to her underwear, she paused and took a shallow breath, trying to hide the flutter of nervous excitement that had sent her body tingling. She glanced down at him seeking encouragement, but he just sat there with that s**t-eatin’ grin on his face. Her eyes came up to find the image of a tense grey-haired woman, in bra and panties, staring back at her from the mirrored wall that surfaced the folding doors of the closet. She watched herself dispassionately as she undid her bra to letting her modest breasts swing free, slipping her panties down, stepping out of them, straightening up. She dared not look at him; kept her eyes lowered demurely, like a little girl gone suddenly shy. She stood before him; acutely aware of his steady gaze taking in her totally naked body.

Mariam kept fit; ate sparingly, worked out on a regular basis. She had managed to keep her figure lean, her belly flat. Her body was well-toned, and if her small delicate breasts now showed the slightest sag, and her butt had settled a bit into the plumper curves of a mature woman’s, still, all in all she thought, appraising what she saw before her, not bad for a fifty-year old body. She knew it pleased him -- to see her naked. He made her stand before him without a stitch, offering herself, her nude body, posing for him in that motel room with the blinds drawn and all the lights turned on.

His grin broadened. The young man was thrilled by the power he found in having her take her clothes off for him, in putting this older sophisticated woman on her knees. With her wearing nothing but her pearls, he made her crawl to him on all fours -- like an animal. Miriam caught a glimpse of herself in the mirrored wall while her young lover sat in his chair, long straight legs widespread, the crouch of his jeans tented with that unmistakable bulge that beckoned before her eyes.

***

The very thought of being summoned by her lover sent a jolt of electricity through her. The lust rose in her, blowing all her circuits. She knew only that she must go to him, submit to this boy, this preening male, so young and yet so self-confident and assured, to touch his lean hard-muscled body, to feel his strong hands moving on her body, moving her, manipulating her in ways that pleased him, clamping her shoulders, forcing her to her knees -- caused her to shiver. A surge of deep-seated arousal suffused through Miriam’s body. She took a deep breath. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she arched back in her deep office chair, moaning softly, sending a hand down into her lap to touch her oh-so-needy s*x through her clothes.

The muffled purr of her cell phone abruptly shook her from her erotic daydream. Keenly excited, she rooted through her purse. She knew, just KNEW it had to be him. It would be a text message summoning her, and she would go to him to throw herself on her knees before this young man who was so masterful, no more than a boy really, a college drop-out for god’s sake; yet go to him she would, because she had to, needed to, so desperately wanted to.

Tingling with excitement, she gathered up her things, and rushed out the door, mumbling some excuse at her wondering secretary as she flew past her desk. Her job kept her on the road a lot, and her position in the company assured that as long as she checked in from time to time on her cell phone, no one at the office really knew or would even wonder just where the Senior Vice-President for sales actually was.

The obsessed woman drove in a frenzied rush, weaving in and out of traffic heading desperately to the interstate. When these erotic daydreams came crashing in on her like this, with all their terrible power, she had to close her eyes, swallow down the rising lust, and take a deep breath. His text message was, as usual, brief, only a few words, but he made it clear: today she was to be spanked!

Miriam turned the words over in her head. It was not so much the thought of spanking that aroused her so -- the sting of his stiffened hand slapping her wobbly cheeks, again and again, the relentless hard smacks that took her breath away and had her squirming helplessly under the hand that pinned her to his lap.

No, it was more than that, more than the actual spanking that had her so hot and bothered. It was the humiliation of it all that had her flushed with embarrassment and brought on that even deeper erotic heat. The sudden, searing realization that there she was: a mature, conservatively dressed and well-respected businesswoman, a mother of two, and now even a grandmother, who would be made to come to this handsome young man in abject submission, to be drawn to him, to allow herself to be turned over this college boy’s lap, her skirt raised up, panties yanked down, upended and spanked on her exposed bottom as though she were a naughty school girl. He even made her thank him afterward!

The very thought of that spanking sent a deep-seated throb of lust rocketing though her; made her wet, instantly. She could feel it. She licked her lips, bit down on the curled lower lip. Held on to the wheel, tightly. The urge to touch herself became overpowering; to rub herself between the legs, to palm her oh so needy p***y. Miriam Washborne drove with one hand on the wheel, the other between her spread legs, buried under her rucked-up skirt, fingers pressing into the softness of her damp pantied vulva, thinking … of things to come.

Part Two