What Darcy Wants - Sex Stories

What Darcy Wants

... “You’re good,” thought Jess. “Nice and bold, hot, for an older woman,” she parted her pink lips breathing hard and fast, “But this really isn’t going to work out the way you’ve planned. You’ve pushed me just a little too far.” 9.15am… Jess had noticed Miss D’Haviland as she passed her at the bus stop; how could you not notice a striking blonde woman in an open top sports car slowing down and giving you the eye each morning, slowly looking you up and down taking each curve with a lustful glare. Jess loved attention whether from men or women, young or old, and now to be practically abducted by the woman, evidently very interested in her, had to be achingly exciting. Jess crossed and uncrossed her long legs, squeezing her thighs together, feeling the familiar tingle and heat in her pussy, and the stiffening of her nipples into hard buds beneath her tight cotton tee shirt which signalled that she was getting horny; very horny. “I’m Jess,” she offered. The blonde woman lowered her gold mirror shades enough to fix Jess in a stare from her captivating eyes. “I know,” she snapped. “And…um…this is not the way to college,” Jess continued. The woman pushed her glasses back over her blue eyes and accelerated heavily. “I know,” she smiled. 2pm… It was a hot afternoon and Jess lounged by Miss D’Haviland’s pool, wearing one of Miss D’Haviland’s most expensive bikinis and the lady’s highest Louboutin heels, smoking one of Miss D’Haviland’s luxury French cigarettes and stretching out on the ...

... beach towel on the patio. She wore a smile of deep satisfaction and glanced casually at her watch before lighting another cigarette and inhaling deeply and closing her eyes. “10 more minutes,” she muttered. “Let her sweat just a tiny bit more. Not that I’m cruel or anything.” 2.15pm… Beads of perspiration grew on Darcy D’Haviland’s brow beneath wisps of shining blonde hair. They pooled and ran down her face as she looked up at her young captor through wide eyes. “Please Jess,” she pleaded pathetically. “Just let me free, and we will say no more about this.” There were two vertical poles about four feet apart in the centre of the room and Miss D’Haviland looked from side to side to heavy white ropes which bound both of her wrists to the poles. Jess had spread her legs and bound both of her ankles to the poles too. The older woman had put up a fight at first, but had soon realised the superior physical strength of the younger girl and had taken the line of least resistance. Now, with a table beside her covered in crops, whips and paddles, restraints of all types, vibrators, plugs and dildos, that she had intended to use on her captive Jess, she was well and truly “hoisted buy her own petard.” Jess had taken up a long rectangular wooden paddle. She stepped beside the tethered woman and raised the paddle high above her head. “I said,” she hissed, bringing the paddle down to fill the room with a resounding “thwack” as it met the bare cheeks of Miss D’Haviland’s backside, “that you ...