Madam Sonja Pt. 01

Preface

71 years young, & I have so many stories, concocted over many years. I tap these keys a couple hours a day with 2 fingers. One of my exes is a published author; I'm a retired garage owner. I know I'm not a quality, refined writer.

I enjoy sharing my ideas, most are fantasies, some spawned from actual events from my past.

If I don't measure up to your expectations, PLEASE scroll along, there are 1000's of stories. (I don't have much of a life, & they're published faster than I can read them).

I suspect some will enjoy my efforts.

Hugs to everyone, may your life have as many awesome, erotic memories as I, when you're my age.

This one is completely fiction.

I'm Kiara, a secretary at a small law firm; I take my daily lunch at 11:30 to avoid the noon rush at the Bistro, across the street. The outdoor tables and chairs are vintage wrought iron, chairs are painted bright white. The green tables have glass tops.

There are 5 outdoor tables, surrounded by a black iron fence with Fleur de Lis arrowheads on the uprights, and my favorite spot is in the corner, the only 2 chair seating, next to the sidewalk, the others all seat 4. Today, when I arrive, the only other patrons are 3 gents at the furthest from what I call 'my table'.

I'm texting with my bestie, Sandra.

Sandra is Bi, but preferably lesbian, single salesperson for an advertising agency. A petite, fiery redhead, full of piss and vinegar, always searching for a thrill. We met while getting our hair done, went for coffee, she tried seducing me, I turned her down; we've remained best friends for a couple years. She consistently suggests she's still interested whenever I'm ready but has never pushed the issue.

I'm sharing the disdain in my marriage. I'm explaining how Derrick has changed recently; on the rare occasion we have sex; he is aggressive, rougher, more demanding than intimate.

My text: 'He hardly kisses me anymore, and no compliments or endearing words like he used to; are those signs he's cheating?'

Sandra Reply: 'Have you witnessed him flirting or have any texting evidence he's seeing someone else?'

Me: 'No, just his lack of interest in me; he used to interrupt me as soon as he got home, he'd be affectionate, we'd kiss, often fondle; he'd get me horny and we'd have a quickie, sometimes he'd carry me to bed, we'd stay there until morning.

Lately he consistently goes straight to shower, changes clothes, then to the sofa; news, or sports on TV, until I call him for supper. I rarely get a kiss. Before this change, every night, we used to chat, cuddle, spoon, or make love. It's been weeks since I even get a good night kiss.'

Sandra: 'Have you asked him why, or tried initiating sex?'

Me: 'I bought an expensive lace negligee. Last night after supper, I did a sexy strip tease, seductively swaying, gyrating, removing my blouse and jeans. I wasn't sure he even noticed. He showed little interest. When I was down to the lacy lingerie; I straddled him for a lap dance. He stood, dropped his pants, pushed me to the floor, ripped my panties off and did me doggy style. I was really getting into it, but he came so fast; I was in shock, he rarely cums that quickly. He wiped his dick with the ripped panties and resumed watching football; not speaking a word.

Frustrated, sad, I went for a shower; masturbation wasn't even satisfying.'

Sandra: 'Wow, well insanity is expecting different results from repeating the same thing. I'd say it's obvious, he doesn't appreciate you. Seems like you're doing the cooking and cleaning, and someone else is getting the rewards.'

Me: 'Ya, sounds legit, I guess he's found someone better.'

Sandra: 'Are you thinking of stepping out, getting some for yourself? You deserve to be happy too. Kiara, you're a young, vibrant, sexy woman, I'd be happy to take his place, have you squat on my face and squirm from my oral expertise. LOL'

Me: 'Well, I know you're ready willing and able. I'm not going looking, but I don't know if I'd reject an intriguing opportunity if it presented itself.'

My salad was set before me.

"Thank-you." I acknowledged the waitress.

"Can I get you anything else Ma'am?"

"No that's fine, thanks." I returned to texting.

Sandra: 'So, what now?'

'I know if I confront him, he'll lie, maybe I should hire a private investigator, get proof for a divorce.'

Sandra: 'Well, do something, these things never heal themselves. I'm here for you, I think it's high time I come to your house, bring cuffs and a whip, rape you, show you what a real orgasm feels like. Keep me posted, I'm patiently waiting.'

'I will, thanks for being my friend.'

The following day, my usual table, savoring a delicious salad, enjoying the relaxed atmosphere, the gorgeous weather. I don't usually notice vehicles, but this white limo slowed, almost stopping in front of me, it wasn't impeded by traffic. A few minutes later it's coming down the street, it must have circled the block. This time it pulls over, parks a few feet in front of me, just across the sidewalk, no one gets out, it's just sitting there. I look around there are only a few patrons nearby, I get a little paranoid. I can't see inside the dark tinted windows. I can't help but keep looking at it as I finish my salad. 5 minutes later it drives away; I consider it rather strange, pay my bill and head back to work.

That afternoon when Derrick gets home, he heads straight to the shower, I attempt to read his texts, it's locked, I try his password, damn, he's changed it. I check his pockets, nothing suspicious, as I put my fingers in his dress shirt pocket, I get a whiff of some perfume, I stick my face into the fabric and inhale deeply. Aha, definitely expensive, it's not mine. Well, that's suspicious, but maybe he just hugged somebody, definitely not enough for proof of straying.

He again shows me no intimacy, wastes his evening in front of the TV. Another night we don't speak or kiss goodnight.

Lunchtime the next day; the same Limo arrives, stops, the window opens; A woman, looking a lot like Elvira removes her dark sunglasses, she has expensive, well-manicured nails, she stares directly at me. I'm very uncomfortable, twisting sideways, but every time I glance back, she's still staring. Full 5 minutes, then she puts her glasses in place, window rolls up and the limo drives away.

Weird, I think about it often that afternoon, at supper I tell Derrick, no response, he doesn't indicate any interest.

After supper I have a long texting session with Sandra.

Next day, same time same place the Limo stops. A chauffeur in a grey uniform, opens the rear door. Standing at attention holding the door. A long, spectacular leg comes into view. Black dress slit up to her hip, red garter attached to black silk stockings, red stilettos. She's tall, stunning, front of her dress is a deep V, barely covering her areoles, open to just above her pubic mound. Large melon shaped, round breasts, a heart shaped diamond necklace, dangling, diamond heart earrings, and a heart shape diamond hiding her belly button. Black opera gloves.

The chauffeur holds out his left hand, she sets her dark glasses in his palm, she opens her clutch as she struts directly toward me. Never breaking eye contact, never blinking her sparkling blue eyes, an emotionless expression. I look up, expecting her to say something, she flips her right hand, straightens her long fingers, presenting a card between her middle and forefinger, a large diamond on her next finger over her snug fitting glove.

The moment I take it, she turns, and like a runway model, struts back to the limo, I'm riveted to her sensuous swaying, she dons her glasses, sits, lifts her left leg in, pauses, she tips her glasses lower to make sure I'm watching her; her legs are apart, giving me a full view of her inner thighs, and shiny, silk, silver panties; they look like tinfoil, her forefinger pushes the sunglasses back into place, the right leg disappears, the door closes. I watch the chauffeur go around the back of the car, he gets in, and it drives away.

I examine the very expensive, black card, embossed gold script, 'Madam Sonja' nothing else. I flip it over, nothing. 'Hmmm, weird, what's this all about.'

Intriguing, it's forefront in my mind all day. I order Thai for supper, not wanting to cook, I have other pressing plans, I desperately need to pursue. I open a bottle of white wine, have a glass waiting for take-out.

I remain at the kitchen table with the wine and my laptop, Derrick takes his plate to the sofa, of course, to watch sports.

As I'm eating, I do an internet search for Madam Sonja, nothing. I try 'Sonja' combined with our city name. Only one result, Sonja Kovik. I click on it.

The new page is a picture of her, a near mirror image of when she first stepped out of the limo. An Elvira look-alike, dressed in a red sequenced evening gown, her perfect bosom bulging under the edges of the deep V front. That same heart diamond pendant, and earrings. The photo is taken on an angle, her face looking to the right; right leg exposed in the full length, slit up to her hip, red stilettos. Her right hand, sculpted red nails, delicately holding a glass of red wine, looking as if she's lifting it to her puffy, glossy, bright red lips. A perfect photo for a wine commercial, the designer dress, or actually anything on the page.

I investigate further. Every page has pics of stunning women, fancy dresses, swimsuits, elegant homes, pools, cars.

Derrick returns his plate to the table, pours himself a wine, I slide my glass over, he ignores it, returns to the TV. I pour myself another wine, filling my glass, leaving barely a mouthful in the bottle, in case he returns for a refill.

His cell chimes, he grabs it up, looks at it, and heads to the other room. Very suspicious, I stealthily lean my ear against the door, trying to hear. I hear his voice but only faintly make out a few words, then a bit louder and quite distinct I hear.

"Ok, Saturday, bye." I scurry back to the kitchen.

I delve further to investigate the woman.

Sonja owns a conglomerate of women's boutiques, spas, salons, a worldwide modeling agency.

A well-respected philanthropist. Supports several local charities.

Interesting, so why is this rich, sexy woman staring at me. Why did she approach me, give me her card, not saying a word. I'm not rich, or in the social registry. I'm certainly not a model candidate; of the 20 or so woman at my firm, I'd be on the cusp of making the top 5. Why?

I share my discovery with Sandra; also, about the call Derrick got. We finish our long text session, with her again offering me her sexual favors, I finish the wine.

At bedtime, again, Derrick has nothing to say. I replay the noontime scenario, baffled, I can't get the bewitching seductress out of my head, combined with Sandra's lesbian proposal evokes some stirring sexual fantasies; slightly aroused, I fall asleep.

2

In the morning, snuggled in the warm bed, I realize I dreamt about a lesbian liaison; trying to recall the particulars, as I'm unsure if I was sharing myself with Sharon or Sonja. I'm horny, I touch myself, Geezus I'm soaked. Derrick is already gone, hell, he wouldn't give me the satisfaction I'm needing.

I open my eyes just enough to see the time. Damn 6:57, 3 minutes to the alarm, oh, how I want to turn off the alarm and masturbate. Knowing I need at least 10 minutes to get off; 25 for truly decent satisfaction. If I reach over and hit the button, I'll end up being late, I might as well get up, maybe I'll have an opportunity at work to get myself off. Reluctantly, with a deep sigh, tossing back the covers, my feet hit the floor.

I do have an opportunity to masturbate in the restroom. I discover it is both women I'm fantasizing about as I finger my pussy and manipulate my boobs. It snuck up faster than expected, i have an explosive orgasm, best I've had in several weeks, I realize maybe it's time I say yes to Sandra.

I continue; pretending it is Sandra playing with me, gently, slowly, only toying with my fleshy flaps and clit; it took several minutes, but it was wonderful.

I rush to the bistro a little earlier, I find myself obsessed with the anticipation of the arrival of the Limo; will it stop.

Texting with Sandra, expressing my desire for the limo occupant; I quickly eat. Waiting, watching, in agonizing anticipation. Nothing, it's time to return to work, disappointed, I pay my bill. My dejected, sauntering, return to work was so different than the excited stroll there. Will she ever return?

Derrick texts me, he'll be working late, unsure how late.

I run several strategies through my mind; going to his office after quitting time, seeing who he's working with; will he even be at work? Or should I stake out his office? See who he leaves with. He still hasn't mentioned Saturday to me.

I text Sandra, we decide to do nothing, to wait until he slips up.

I seriously consider inviting Sandra over to explore some same sex scenarios.

After work, I've resolved to pick up a pizza, open a bottle of pinot noir.

I get my vibrator and dildo, find some lesbian porn on my laptop, I fall asleep on the couch.

When my alarm is sounding in the other room, I sit up, startled.

The wine bottle empty, 1/2 the pizza in is in the box, Derrick's gone. Well, he obviously saw me naked on the couch with a couple sex toys.

As I pass through the bedroom for a shower, I pick up his shirt, sniff it; yup, same perfume. I shower, dress and head to work. I don't have the same excited anticipation today, but I am hoping the Limo arrives. As I'm about to cross the street to the bistro; there it is, I see it approaching. I get butterflies in my tummy, I'm excited. The limo parks just past the crosswalk, I scurry across the street, my heart racing; I'm eager, my curiosity peaked.

The chauffeur opens the back door, I try peeking in, nothing; my hearts racing, after a few moments, a large diamond ring worn on the outside of a white opera glove appears, a forefinger curling, beckons me to enter.

Nervous, anxious, curious. I enter, the chauffeur closes the door.

A coral, see through, crocheted dress; extremely dark near black, areoles, and hard nipples poking through the loose knit yarn. A red thong, bare thighs, pale pink sandals.

Blank stare, silence, her eyes slowly scan me. She drops 2 ice cubes into 2 crystal glasses, opens a decanter, pours both 1/2 full. Holds one to me, I take a healthy swig, she lights a pinner, blowing tiny smoke rings toward me, passes it to me. She's expressionless, staring intently at me, I'm very uncomfortable, squirming.

She takes a drink, I'm enduring the silent gaze, my eyes drinking in her sensational assets, she is ravishingly exquisite. I can't stand the silence.

"Thank-you Sonja, I'm Kiara." She nods, tosses back her drink. Taps on her window with her diamond ring, the door opens, she tips her head, signaling me to depart. Puzzled, confused, sexually aroused, I rise, as my left foot is on the sidewalk, my head outside, hands on the doorframe; her right hand holds against my belly to stop me exiting. Her left hand starts at the back of my knee, gingerly caresses up my inner thigh, fingernails trace along the top edge of my stocking, her thumb follows my garter strap. Moving higher until the back of her forefinger rests against my camel toe, presses firmly up, wiggles.

Her thumb sneaks under my panties, presses against my anus, fingers swipe back; drag firmly across my right cheek. She removes both hands, sits back in her seat. I look back, she is staring at her glass, swirling the ice in the drink, with her finger.

As I head back to work, I don't recall being this aroused by anyone, how erotic that was, how horny I am; confident I'm hornier than my dream with her and Sharon. I fantasize many scenarios during lunch. What may have happened if I returned to the seat in the limo.

I had 2 orgasms in the staff restroom, but still didn't get much work done that afternoon, I was so horny.

I share everything with Sandra via text.

I caught myself unconsciously touching myself several times, paranoid a nearby co-worker would see me.

On my way home, my fingers slide inside my soaked undies; it was only a few stoplights later when I released another orgasm.

I don't mention the encounter to Derrick, but I'm sexually aggressive, and I get on all 4's and request he do me from behind, reaching back slapping my ass. I guess my aggressiveness, sparked him, we have wild, animalistic sex on the floor. At bedtime we spooned, he entered from behind and as we fucked slowly, I enjoyed another orgasm thinking of Sonja.

I stand on the street corner awaiting the Limo; right on schedule it stops. Same routine, I enter, Sonja passes me a lit joint, kicks off her heels. She's wearing a red blouse, buttonless, knotted under her abundant boobs, bare midriff, red ruby jewel in her belly piercing, short white skirt. She lifts her right leg to my lap, and moving her thumbs, motions for me to massage her silk clad foot. She's not shy, legs apart enough for me to have a full view of her thin strip of black pubic hair, above the dark wavy labia peeking temptingly between her puffy mounds.

I enjoy the feel of the smooth silk, and after a couple minutes she trades feet. She has her eyes closed as she finishes the roach. Oh, this is enthralling, I excitedly anticipate what's next, and I begin to massage higher.

She sits up, placing her feet on the floor, raps on the window, the door opens, she tilts her head indicating it's time to depart. I pause as I exit, expecting maybe another exploratory, teasing caress. Nothing; I consider turning, pushing my face between her thighs, tasting that dark slit. I look back, she is sliding her foot into her red stiletto.

My gawd, I'm so horny, frustrated, I imagined today we were going to get it on, at least some interaction, maybe a kiss, some fondling; DAMN.

I replay our entire interaction as I return to work. Ok, she spotted me at the bistro, is she attracted to me? Testing me to see if I'm ok with same sex relations? Why the silence? Is she mute? There's no mention of that in my research? Why so nonemotionally?

I again need relief, I go directly to the washroom, remove my panties, and masturbate. Another afternoon I struggle to work, the image of her pussy forefront in my mind. Coffee time I masturbate again, thinking for sure I'm ready to ask Sandra if I can spend the night in her bed, I make up my mind, I'll ask her after supper.

At the end of the day, as I'm leaving, the receptionist hands me a small package.

"A gentleman in a chauffeur uniform left this for you."

In my car, I excitedly rip open the package. A USB stick, and a Madame Sonja card.

I can't get my interaction with Sonja out of my head. Massaging her feet while staring at that sexy pussy. I have supper in a daze, frantic to view Sonja's gift. Derrick tries talking to me, I can't concentrate, I explain.

"Sorry, I had a weird day, I apologize, you watch the game, I need to review some work, I'll do it in bed."

I'm dying to know what's on the USB. I take my laptop to bed. It's a video; there is a naked, well endowed, extremely sexy, long legged, blonde, gagged, blindfolded, and strapped spreadeagle to a large wooden X.

Sonja enters wearing, a black harness outfit, mainly leather straps, and small chains, glossy black, thigh-high stiletto boots, long matching black, opera gloves.

OMG, she is extremely hot. It's uncanny how much she resembles Elvira. I'm instantly wet, fully aroused. My fingers rolling, tweaking my hard nipples.

She swats the abundant breasts several times, two strikes squarely on the shiny smooth shaved twat. She sets down the flogger, holds the blondes chin, licks her from chin up her cheek to swirl her tongue in her ear. She twists both nipples, they're hard, protruding like little soldiers at attention. She snips both, flicking them with her forefinger. Scraping the sides with her nails; she attaches a pair of magnetic nipple clamps, weighted alligator clips are placed on her hanging labia, stretching the flesh. Sonja picks up the flogger. I feel a twinge in my genitals, my fingers slip inside my panties. I'm no different than most women, I've fantasized about being bound and dominated, but never seen it. This pornographic video is very stimulating, I slide my fingertips along my labia, gently teasing myself, intending to orgasm the same time as the blonde. I haven't entered my cunt, tugging the sensitive fleshy lips and circling my clit.