It All Comes Out In The Wash

Mildred watched Jonathan kneeling before her, his eyes pleading, his body trembling with need. She took a final drag from her Woodbine cigarette, crushing it out in the overflowing ashtray with a deliberate, almost sensual motion. Then, with a flick of her wrist, she popped open the buttons of her nylon housecoat.

The garment fell open to reveal a body that defied her fifty-six years. Beneath the frumpy exterior lay a surprisingly toned and well-proportioned curvy figure. Her breasts were full and firm, spilling slightly over the top of a black silk bra that contrasted starkly against her pale skin. Sheer black stockings encased her shapely legs, held up by a lacy garter belt. But it was what lay between her legs that made Jonathan's breath catch in his throat—her panties had a slit in the front, revealing a full, wet pussy glistening with anticipation.

Mildred walked toward Jonathan, her hips swaying with a confidence that came from years of knowing exactly what effect her body had on men. She stopped directly in front of him and parted her legs, the scent of her arousal filling the small room.

"You know what to do," she said, her voice husky with desire. "You have ten minutes. You better make it good, or you can just fuck back off to your fancy office."

Jonathan didn't need to be told twice. He leaned forward, his tongue finding her wet folds with practiced precision. He had been in this position many times before, and he knew exactly what she liked. His tongue circled her clit, teasing and tasting, while his hands remained obediently at his sides.

Mildred's fingers tangled in his hair, guiding him, pressing him closer. "That's it," she moaned, her hips bucking against his face. "Right there."

Jonathan increased his pace, his tongue working feverishly as he felt her body begin to tense. He slipped two fingers inside her, curling them just so, hitting that spot that made her gasp. Her thighs tightened around his head as the first orgasm washed over her, her cries filling the room.

But Jonathan didn't stop. He knew from experience that Mildred was capable of more, and he was determined to give her what she wanted. He continued his assault on her senses, his tongue and fingers working in perfect harmony until a second, more powerful orgasm ripped through her body.

She didn't do this with most of her clients. Most were merely sources of income, their bodies and desires nothing more than commodities to be traded. But there were a few like Jonathan—handsome, successful men who appealed to her on a more primal level. With them, she allowed herself the pleasure of their attentions.

Mildred looked down at Jonathan's wet, pleading face, a satisfied smile playing on her lips. "Give me your left hand," she commanded.

He did as he was told, extending his arm. Mildred took a pair of handcuffs down from a hook on the wall, putting one cuff around his left wrist and clicking the other cuff behind his head to the chain attached to the collar. The metal was cold against his skin.

Then she bent down, her breasts brushing against his shoulder as she inserted the special key into the lock of his cage. Jonathan sighed with relief as she slid the device off, his cock springing free, already hard and eager.

Mildred pulled a rubber out of her housecoat pocket, tearing open the package with her teeth. Jonathan sighed again as she rolled the condom down his rapidly growing shaft. The first time she had done this, she had told him bluntly that she didn't want any mess on her floor. With some of her clients, she'd put a dish in front of them to catch their seed, and then she would make them lick it clean. That wasn't Jonathan's thing, so she didn't enforce it.

"Now," she said, stepping back and settling into her armchair. "You may finish yourself."

Jonathan moaned and growled as he wrapped his free hand around his cock, his strokes becoming more frantic with each passing moment. Mildred sat back, sipping tea from her mug, watching him with an almost bored look. When he had finished, the rubber full of his seed, he put his free hand behind his head as per her orders.

Mildred walked over to a small fridge sitting in the corner and brought out a freezing cold cloth. She removed his rubber, throwing it in a trash can, and cleaned him with the freezing cloth before locking him back up. The shock of the cold made him gasp, but he didn't dare protest.

She unlocked his left hand and handed him his clothes, then sat back down and watched as he dressed back into his suit, the expensive fabric a stark contrast to his submissive posture. Finally, she unlocked the collar.

"Thank you, Mildred," he said, his eyes downcast in shame.

She merely nodded as he let himself out, the door clicking shut behind him. Alone again, she took a sip of her tea.