MasterAndrew1

The difference between a suit and a dress is strange.  A suit, with its layers and shoulder pads distorts the male form.  It hides his fat and make him appear more muscular.  It makes him more heroic.  The irony is that men who look heroic naked will look the same as a pathetic goblin of a man in the same suit.  Whether he is a beggar or a prince, a good suit will make him look like a king.  A good suit will get a man respect.  A good dress is quite the opposite.  It is merely packaging.  It makes what already exists look better.  An ugly woman will look ugly no matter what dress is put on her, but a gorgeous woman, a woman who men see only a few times and dream about for years will be irresistible in even a moderate dress.  And the better dress the better she will look.  When a woman wears a dress she doesn't receive what feminists call respect, at least not what men call respect.  As I looked to my right at her, although I felt very strongly toward her, I felt no respect whatsoever.  She was beautiful, and I was glad I owned her.

I turned my eyes back to the black asphalt streaking past.  The contrast against the black sky was subtle, but distinct.  The lights of the city danced for me.  A welcome party I thought.  A parade in my honor.  What city would throw me a party if they new what I liked to do to her?  What she loved to have done to her?  

We arrived at the restaurant.  I asked her earlier to make a reservation and she had.  That's a good start to the evening.  We were seated at a table to the side of the room.  I looked at her.  She was happy that I was taking her out.  She was looking around- people watching- with a little smile on her face.  She caught me looking at her and her smile broadened.  I returned her smile.  I reached across the table and took her hand in mine.  I stroked it with my thumb.  I raised her hand to my lips and kissed it softly.  She would have blushed if I hadn't done this a thousand times before.

The waitress came to take our orders.

"Fillet Mignon.  Rare.  Broccli.  An expensive glass of Merlot.  I don't care to pick one out specifically.  She won't have anything.", I said to her.  She was an attractive brunette in a white button down and tight black pants.  My date caught me looking at the waitress and gave me a devilish smile that had just a hint of jealousy in it.  Although, the jealousy could be my imagination.

"Pardon, sir?"

"She won't be having anything."

"Water?"

"Nothing."

After the waitress left I returned my eyes to my lovely date.  She had a quizzical look on her face.  

"Look down.  What's there?"

"Table cloth...and no plate."

"And how long is the table cloth?"

"It goes all the way to the floor."

"It would be perfect for you to hide under and suck my cock."

She blinked.  After a moment she looked around and then began to slide down in her seat.  A moment later, she was completely concealed by the table cloth.

I knew she was going to obey me, but despite myself it gave me a deep sense of satisfaction every time she did.  Just as that feeling began to go away I felt a new sensation.  My nerves screamed out as her soft hands slowly began to creepy up my leg.  I smiled and sat back into my chair, and consciously relaxed each muscle group in my body.  Her hands got slower and slower until she stopped right before my cock.  Then she began to slowly work back down towards my knee with the tips of her fingernails.  The smile faded from my face as I realized what expression she had on her face. Although I couldn't see her face, I knew she had an arrogant smile on her face that she gets when she thinks she has the upper hand.  With both hands I seized the back of her head and pulled her into my crotch.  Hot gasping breath danced on my nerves.  I had to catch myself from moaning as she pushed her face into me.  I felt her drag her face from side to side across my cock as it grew thick and hot.  I focused on controlling my breathing as I felt her's become heavy, passionate, and erratic.  With a gentle touch to the neck I communicated that she needed to quiet down, and of course she did.  And of course, I smiled.

A bum said to me today, "Gimme a buck, man".  He was wearing a new leather jacket.

The sky was blue.  The sun was out.  There were playful clouds that looked like everything you loved as a child.  There was a rainbow too, but I wasn't looking up.  I was looking down from my second story window at a red sedan pulling into my drive way.  A woman was coming to clean my house.  I was looking at her and smiling.

She got out of her car.  The maid wore black high heels.  I knew the exact pair well.  I had told her that I wanted to wear them again the last time she came.  I saw her toned legs next.  They were tight and athletic.  She was wearing a formal maid's skirt.  It was cut an appropriate length, but she was wearing, what I must assume, is a push-up bra.  I didn't tell her to do that.  There was a thin black ribbon around her neck.  Her long black hair was in a tight bun.  Acceptable.

She walked in a business like manner to the front door and let herself in.  She has a key.  I remain motionless as I listen to her walk up the stairs.  Her foot step is light and her pace is purposeful.  I smile more.

The door behind me opens and I smell her perfume waft in.  I didn't tell her to wear perfume.  She isn't allowed to wear perfume.  A few more footsteps and then silence.

"Good morning, sir.  Would you care for coffee while I clean?"

"Of course."

The coffee she returned with had the exact amounts of sugar and creme that I had taught her that I like.  I sipped it while sitting on the couch.  It was very hot.  Good.

I grabbed her by the back of the head and pulled her on to the couch.  She resisted at first, but then gave in and obeyed.  I lifted up her skirt-no panties, as instructed- slapped her ass hard several times while holding my coffee.

"What did you think you have done wrong?" I said as I sipped my coffee.  I wanted to savoir it.

"Perfume, sir" she said in her flat, confident tone.  I instantly slapped her ass several more times.  It was already red.

"Push-up bra, sir".  Her voice had a slight quiver in it.  I gently stroked her tender bottom.

"This coffee is delicious by the way.  Its too bad I won't be able to enjoy it."

I dribbled the hot coffee on her lower back.  A gasp escaped her lips.  I could tell I was going to enjoy this.

"Do you understand that somethings aren't allowed?  I know you want to a filthy slut for me, but that may upset the neighbors.  I can't have that."

"I know, sir." she whimpered as I let a few more drops fall on her bright red ass.

My fingers parted her round cheeks.  I felt her entire body tense up.  I let one drop fall at the top of her ass.  I slow began in between her cheeks.  She squeaked.  This time a few more drops.  The coffee rolled all the way down her ass, past her ass hole, to her pussy.  She shuddered, hard dug her fingers into the leather couch, and was breathing hard.  I splashed the remainder of the cup on her ass.  She screamed and her whole body spasmed.

"Now thank me for correcting you".

"Yes, sir" she whimpered as she unzipped my fly.

*ROUGH DRAFT*

I just ran for 1 hour straight.  Very happy with that.

My penis is a weapon of mass destruction.

Not really , but I think it sounds funny.