It took me a good minute or two before I realised I’d been staring straight at her with my jaw hanging open. I’d never actually salivated over a woman before but here I was, on the verge of drooling at the sight of the goddess that had just wandered into the library.

She stood at only around 5’0” tall, but her incredible legs, wrapped in the sheer cotton or her tights, looked as though they belonged to someone of a much taller frame. Her ass looked cute but firm covered in her short leather mini skirt and her breasts… oh her breasts. She wore a skin tight lilac shirt that held them up so perkily, whilst the top few buttons had been left open just enough to tease me with the abundance of freckles that adorned her large pale chest. The real knockout blow was the golden red hair that flowed from her scalp, waving down past her shoulders. Her face somewhere between innocent and devilish, framed by the thick black glasses she wore - accented by more of her gorgeous freckles. She was clearly an older woman but by god had she aged like a fine wine. As she sauntered around the aisles, the clicking of her heels on the wooden floors was the most erotic of sounds to my ears.

I couldn’t help but notice the bulge that had grown in my trousers as I writhed and wriggled to conceal it. ‘The things I would do’, I thought. ‘The things I would let her do’. “The things… “ I was suddenly awoken from my wet day dream as I realised I’d begun verbalising my desires aloud. I looked around sheepishly but to my relief no one seemed to have noticed. I turned back to where she had been standing, to maximise the memory of this beauty of a specimen, but it was too late. She was nowhere to be seen.

I slumped back down into my chair in dismay. ‘One last glance would have been enough’ I tried to to convince myself as I poorly attempted to finish studying. After a few more hours of wandering thoughts, interspersed with an attempt at reading my notes, it was time to head home and enjoy the weekend.

Friday night had finally arrived and after an excruciatingly long week of uni, I was ready for it. I packed my bag and headed up the stairs to the exit. The typical Mancunian rain was pouring down, heavy as ever, and so I opened my trusty umbrella and headed for the bus stop.

As I made my way through the bustling crowds of overpaid bankers and self righteous managers, I couldn’t stop thinking about her. She was unlike anyone I had ever seen before and I lusted to be in her presence once more. I could feel the bulge returning in my trousers and couldn’t help but feel embarrassed, knowing it was clearly visible in my light grey joggers, to anyone who cared to look. I detoured off down a side street in search of an alleyway that would afford me the privacy to rearrange myself.

As I hurried along the poorly paved roads, splashing through puddles as I went, nothing could overpower the short memory of her for long enough to settle my bulge. I finally found an alleyway quiet enough and darted between two commercial rubbish bins and submerged my hand into my pants.

I pressed my erect cock down my left trouser leg into try to conceal my raging boner from the unsuspecting public, but as I did so I felt the wetness of my precum that had now soaked my boxers brush against my knuckles. And as I stood in the pouring rain, behind the bins of a restaurant in central Manchester, with my cock in my hand and the thoughts of her racing through my mind… I began to stroke. Slowly and sensually I wanked myself off, dreaming only of her touch. It wasn’t until I felt myself let out a moan that I snapped back to reality.

In one fluid motion I removed my hand from my pants and re-emerged from my hiding spot. But in doing so, I hadn’t even taken a second to look around me and before I knew it, I was knocked to the ground. “I’m so sorry”, I uttered, “It was my fault, I wasn’t looking, are you okay?”. As I hurriedly tried to save the book that I had knocked out of their grasp from the now soaked tarmac, I looked up at them still on my knees. As our gazes locked on to each other, my vocabulary deserted me leaving behind nothing more than “Mistress?” as I now looked up desperately at the woman I had only just been masturbating over.

My heart stopped, as I realised my lips had betrayed my mind and revealed my deepest desire. The wry grin that soon streaked across her face added to the fear, only now it was juxtaposed and intertwined with a sense of true excitement. Without another word she curled her index finger upward, displaying the deep red polish on her long manicured nails, indicating for me to follow.

Without waiting for a response she strutted off away from me and I quickly rose to my feet and followed behind. A few paces later, she halted, turned and placed her soft palm gently on my forehead. Then, tensing her hand into a fist around a tuft of my hair, she dragged me back down onto all fours and continued on. As I crawled behind on the cold, wet floor, I couldn’t help but to imagine what pleasures the weekend may have in store. But by the sound of the devilish chuckle that she let out mere seconds later, I was certain that the pleasure would be all hers…

To Be Continued 😈