Michael hardly slept a wink.
He’d just been the slave, the complete, eager and willing sexual slave to Beth, a very sexy 60-year-old woman he’d met in the bar at the hotel where he was staying on business. She’d seduced him with flashes of her sexy old legs, visible as her black pant legs rode up while she sat at the bar, showing her muscular calves bubbling above her low black trouser socks.
The horny 21-year-old had fallen for her fetishistic ways, slavishly worshipping those calves, those socks, those smelly feet, at the bar. She’d even gotten him off using her muscular calves, as friends of hers stopped by to chat. And later, when she came by Michael’s room, dominating him with her entire, rather sinewy and lean body, controlling him body, mind and soul.
And before she left, wearing those black socks gone squishy from his cum, which she’d “made” him suck clean, he was privy to some disturbing news: At his business meeting tomorrow, he’d be giving a speech. Before a crowd that would include the company president. Which, it turned out to Michael’s chagrin and Beth’s delight, was the sexy older woman he was slave to.
Before she left his room for the night, Beth promised to sit in the front row of the meeting the next morning. Flashing her legs and those filthy socks at him. Hence, his inability to sleep much after she’d left his room – as she flashed those legs and socks at him on the way out.
He got to the meeting early, sizing up the crowd, making small talk with associates, trying to remember what he was going to say. He was a young hire at the company, and his speech would center around that, being new blood in an old business, this one being the insurance trade.
He wanted her to show up. He wanted to impress this incredible, sexual older woman who was his boss. He wanted to please her. And at the same time, he didn’t want her there, knowing the effect it would have on him. She would unravel him, he feared.
He mingled, nibbled aimlessly at the mediocre buffet spread out in back, eyeing the crowd, seeking her out, a mix of relief and regret consuming him at her absence. The meeting started precisely at 9 a.m. His speech, which was to be fairly short and part of the day’s proceedings, was preceded by other blathering sorts accompanied by boring charts and he heard none of it.
His time came, his name called. Beth was nowhere to be seen. He relaxed a bit as he made his way to the podium before a few hundred disinterested sorts who offered a polite smattering of applause as he walked up. He turned, shuffling his scant notes, tapping them on the podium. Smiling, he looked up.
The door in back opened, quietly but forcefully. In walked Beth, and all eyes turned toward her. She wore a smart dark business suit, navy-blue blazer, dark blouse with print scarf beneath, and matching slacks and the same shoes she wore last night. Michael gulped watching her walk confidently to the front of the room, acknowledging underlings along the way who sycophantically greeted her. He looked at her shoes, knowing the crusty secret the soles contained. She caught his eye as she strode down the center aisle. She smiled. He wanly smiled back.
She sat down, crossing her legs, gently tugging her pants up. A scant inch or so of pure white flesh of calf and shin shone above those socks that Michael imagined still reeked of his cum. He was rendered speechless as she casually bounced the top leg, the meat of her sexy calf flexing around her shin in freckled folds of silky skin.