Ms M’s Birthday Party

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“You know Saturday’s my birthday,” Morrigan said on the phone to her little brother.

“Of course I know that,” replied Ian. “That’s why I’m coming home for the weekend.”

“I know that. And I know I’ll see you at mom and dad’s for lunch. But I’m having a party at my house on Saturday night, and I’d like you to come to that.”

“Yeah, I appreciate that,” Ian said. And he really did. My God, seven years ago when he was in junior high, what he wouldn’t have given to be invited to one of his big sister’s parties. “But I’m bringing my roommate home for the weekend with me to see the big city.”

“So bring him.”

Morrigan adored her little brother, despite — or maybe because of — the few years of difference in their ages. And he worshipped her. She had been his first baby-sitter, his protector, and his idol. Now that he was in college and she was in her late 20s, he still idolized her. There had never been anything weird about their relationship. Even though these days, she represented to him the ideal of an adult woman. Of course, all of her friends were now adult women, too, and he certainly had no problem with that.

As he thought about it, he realized, his roommate Ron would probably feel the same way. Even though he was almost sure Ron was still a virgin. Probably, in fact, especially since Ron was still a virgin. “All right,” he agreed. “I’ll tell Ron that’s what we’re doing on Saturday night.”

“Good,” Morrigan chuckled. “And remember, this is a grown-up party. So look the part. I don’t want you two showing up in Pokemon t-shirts.”

Ian and Ron showed up at the door of Morrigan’s downtown apartment at 8 PM, appropriately dressed in slacks, open-necked dress shirts, and untailored but acceptable sports coats. Morrigan greeted them with an approving wink, and gave her brother a hug and a kiss on the cheek. Then she embraced Ron, too, as if their family lunch together a few hours earlier had made them lifelong friends.

Ron was mesmerized. The apartment, though not large, just seemed to be the epitome of urban sophistication, especially the sliding glass doors onto the balcony overlooking the city skyline. The music in the background was bluesy-jazzy piano (Dr. John, Ian informed him). A dozen or more classy-looking young adults mingled throughout the open living space. An array of classy-looking bottles of liquor sat on the bar.

And then there was Morrigan. He had been attracted to her at lunch at Ian’s parents’ house, when she was attired in jeans and a sweater. Now, she was dressed in a form-fitting silky black dress that accentuated her sleek womanly curves in a way that no college co-ed could match, istanbul travesti and a pair of heeled boots that took his breath away.

Morrigan took them through the small crowd, making introductions; and both young men found themselves relieved that no one seemed condescending. The women were all attired in flattering cocktail dresses, some of them with their hair gathered up in stylish coifs, showing off their jewelry and their necks and collarbones. But Ron couldn’t take his eyes off of Morrigan.

The men were casually but elegantly dressed as well — all of them with the expensive haircuts and the toned, gym-enhanced physiques that their young professional statuses would have suggested. Ian, for his part, knew that almost all of them were admirers of his sister, even if half of them were there with dates. Morrigan had always attracted male attention, although she received it in an odd, aloof way that Ian had never quite understood.

Morrigan took Ron by the elbow and guided him toward the bar, with Ian following along. “So, can I get you gentlemen a drink?”

Ian asked for a Grey Goose on the rocks, and Morrigan gestured “help yourself.” Then she cocked her head as she made eye contact with Ron. “And you?”

“Umm… Rum and Coke?” Ron suggested.

Morrigan smiled but avoided laughing at the request. Easy enough. She made a point of pouring the drink. Then, just before handing it to him, she dipped one index finger into it to stir it. Then she placed her manicured finger between her lips and sucked it clean, watching his pupils dilate.

“I need to mingle,” she informed them. “I’ll leave you young men to your own devices.”

Ian and Ron continued to hover near the bar, chatting with each other, people-watching. Or, at least, Ian was people-watching. Ron’s eyes continued to follow Morrigan around the room, watching her eyes sparkle and her cleavage jiggle as she joked with her guests, and her irresistible backside sway as she moved to the next group. At one point, one of the male guests placed his hand on the small of Morrigan’s back, and Ron found himself feeling irrationally jealous.

After twenty minutes or so, she returned to them. “You boys have barely moved!” she chided. “Come on, let me show you around,” she said, once again placing her hand on Ron’s elbow to guide him.

There wasn’t that much to see in the small apartment. The view from the balcony was magnificent. One of the pieces of art on the wall, Morrigan pointed out, was an actual painting and not just a framed print. At one end of the main room was a short hallway,

leading to the bathroom, and two other doorways.

They stepped travesti istanbul into the open doorway. It was Morrigan’s bedroom, Ron realized. A number of guests had brought light coats which were laid on the queen-sized bed. On the other side of the room was a dressing table. Ron couldn’t resist conjuring the intimate image of Morrigan sitting there an hour earlier, in her lingerie, applying her make-up.

The other door was closed. Ron tilted his head toward it and said, “And what’s in there?”

Morrigan smiled. This boy seemed shy, but he wasn’t without curiosity, or a certain amount of… ambition?

“Hmm,” she replied. Then she reached out and placed a finger on his nose. “Only very special men find that out.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed her brother’s discomfort. She didn’t care. She found Ron adorable. He had been quiet tonight, but she could tell at lunch that he was intelligent. He was shy, but eager. He was cute. He had blue eyes and longish curly hair, and the slender body of a runner or a swimmer.

They returned to the main party, and Morrigan made more drinks. She made a point of re-introducing Ian to a pretty young blonde woman, and, praising her brother for his musical knowledge, encouraged him to go over and show her some of his favorites from her vinyl collection. Then she reached down and intertwined two of her fingers around Ron’s, and led him the three steps over to the back of the sofa.

She leaned back against the sofa, in a way that subtly pushed her pelvis forward; then leaned back a bit, increasing the distance between their faces. Then she began speaking in a quiet voice that forced him to lean into her.

“So, you’re curious about that closed door,” she said.

He gulped and nodded.

“That’s where I take men to please me.” She watched him tremble in arousal and confusion. She could hear him thinking, “But… I’ve been in your bedroom! What could be in that other room?”

She glanced around the room and was aware of people surreptitiously watching the seduction. It didn’t matter. Most of the women and probably all of the men in the room had an idea of her kink. She looked down and could tell that he was erect. Standing so close, he could no doubt feel the heat emanating from her sex.

“Would you like to see that room?” she whispered.

“Yes,” he managed to rasp.

“I’d like that, too. Go to the bathroom. Give me a few minutes. Then cross the hall and come in.”

Ron stayed in the bathroom longer than he felt comfortable; then slowly opened the door just enough to peak out. From this vantage point, the only people he could see had their backs istanbul travestileri to him. He took a deep breath and quickly, quietly crossed the hallway.

The room was a simple office. Desk. Bookcases on one wall. Hardwood floor. And, there, in one corner, was Ms. Morrigan, sitting in a wing-backed chair with her wine glass on an end table beside her. Still fully dressed, in her exquisite black dress; her legs crossed, and one booted foot dangling in the air in front of her.

He was confused as he silently closed the door behind him. “Umm… hi,” was all he could manage.

“Hi again, Ronnie,” she smiled. “So, would you like to please me?”

He nodded. “Good. I would like you to take off your clothes.”

She could see the conflict in his eyes. She knew he was thinking… on the other side of that unlocked door is my best friend, and a room full of strangers. But here, here is this incredibly desirable woman, asking me to get naked. It only took a moment for him to remove his jacket and begin unbuttoning his shirt.

She took a sip of wine as she watched. “So, Ronnie, do you have a girlfriend?”

He stammered, “Ummm. Sort of.”

“It’s okay. No one ever needs to know. Have you made love to her?”

He sighed deeply. “No.”

“Good. I like that.” He was naked now. He had even removed his socks. She appreciated his long, slim body. His penis was standing up, almost at his belly button. It wasn’t particularly large, but against his slender frame it was not at all unimpressive. She liked that, too.

“I would like you to kneel now.”

He did so, willingly, eagerly. She placed her boot against his chest. “Would you like to make love to me?”

He nodded, desperately. She laughed. “I figured as much. Well, I might like that too. At some point. But you would need to earn it.” She raised the toe of her boot to his face. Immediately, instinctively, he knew what to do. He swirled his tongue around the black leather upper. Then he took the point between his lips.

“Good boy,” she said. He couldn’t understand how those words gratified him. She tipped her foot up, and he began to lick the sole of the boot.

After a minute or six of that, she asked, “Would you like to take off my boot and worship my bare foot?”

“Oh, yes,” he gasped.

“Maybe next time,” Morrigan responded, watching his eyes get wider and his cock twitch.

“Would you like to cum for me?” she asked.

He nodded vigorously.

“That’s for next time, too.” He groaned, but his other response was to lick even more voraciously, up around the ankles of her boot.

“In fact,” she continued, “I want you to save your orgasms for me. For next time. Is that okay with you?”

He looked up into her eyes. She was indescribably irresistible to him. “Yes?”

He nodded.

“Say it.”

“I will save all my orgasms for you,” he rasped.

“Good boy. Now let’s go back to the party.”

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