A True Queen Takes Control – Pt. 01

Literotic asexstories – A True Queen Takes Control – Pt. 01 by Tracy69,Tracy69
I had noticed her across the room, of course. She was gorgeous and dressed to kill, really, if metaphor dust could be turned into reality, men would drop dead around her like flies.

I didn’t have the courage to go over and talk with her, of course. I’d need a few more drinks to even begin to approach that, and I had to drive myself home. I didn’t know the host of the party well, I’d only recently met him at the gym. Just today Jim (yeah, yeah, I know, Jim rhymes with gym… coincidences can happen… and not, as the story develops), just today Jim invited me over, saying “ya gotta come over, it’ll be good fun, and you can meet some new peeps. Friday night, ya gotta come have some fun.” I was relatively new to Manhattan, having only been there about two months. Moved here for a new job, in Internet security. So I needed to meet more people, besides just the people at work.

Ok, back to… her. Yeah, I admit I’d already fantasized about having a couple of drinks and talking to her, but there were plenty of big guys hanging around her, you know those alpha male types, the kind that “just know” that she needs it, and that she needs it from them. Just look at the way she’s dressed, tight red dress with frilly, silky, see-through ruffles around the edges, ample bosom, big perky breasts, you could almost, just almost, see her stiff nipples perking out from the front of her breasts… amazing dress material, actually. I could swear I could see her nipples poking out, but then if I tried to look more closely… not, not quite? Then I’d have to look away in shame, can’t get caught staring, especially by one of those big brutes hanging on, just look at the big guns of the guy on her right, geez, just about ripping out of his tight shirt sleeves, the kind of big guy that must need to have his shirts custom tailored.

But back to the girl, just… wow. You could almost hear the guys around her thinking, “just look at the way she’s dressed, of course she wants it, actually, she NEEDS it, and she needs it bad. She’ll be lucky to get it from me.” None of this “I’d hit that” mentality, this girl just emanated, her sex just oozed and pushed any hope of forebrain, from any red-blooded male, down and back and down, down, down. Until the other head did all the “thinking”. That other head, the one at the head of my… well, of any guy here, the one swelling at the end of his stiffening pole.

Obviously she was in great shape. Thin waist with one of those skinny belts around the waist of her dress, a gold chain, hanging there to accentuate her curves, then expanding out below her waist to her oh-so-firm and tight ass. Just wow. The skirt of her red dress trimmed with lacy ruffles again, ending mid-thigh. Tight, shapely thighs and calves… and her pumps, what everyone calls “fuck me pumps”, had to have 4 inch heels, probably really expensive, black with the red soles that you could see in the middle between the front of the shoe and the spiked heel. Rounded, open toes, and exquisitely manicured red toenails, matching the color of the polish on her longing fingernails, but not too long. She could still (must) lift weights. And type. Being a computer nerd, I thought about such things.

And her hair, just wow. Big, thick, fluffy, curls that flowed down over her shoulders, down her back, and just to the tops of her breasts, but not quite as far as her nipples, which, dammit, I’m almost sure are poking out.

So, yeah, she was stuck in my head, and yeah, I was sure to go home at the end of the night and beat off, fantasizing about her. Not that I ever had a chance…

“Hey”

What? I was in the back hallway, waiting in line for the head. I turned around to see if that was for me…

She just gave me that coy smile. Oh fuck. It was her! Probably 3 inches taller than me in those pumps. Gave her altitude, a bit of command, as if she needed any more.

“Oh… uh…” I said, cleverly.

“Yeah, how long has that guy been in there anyway? What, were we supposed to reserve tickets in advance?”

I almost didn’t realize she was being humorous. With all my blood vacated from my brain, filling my other head, and all.

“Oh…” I laughed. “That’s pretty good, haven’t heard that one. Yeah, let me just check the app here…” Pulled up my phone.

Another coy smile. “Reservations for two yeah?”

What, was she actually flirting with me?

She continued, “Give him what, maybe 30 more seconds? You might have to knock for us and wake him up. Or maybe he overdid it, needed to do some praying to the porcelain god this evening. ”

I said “Jeez, I hope not. We’d have to get Jim to clean out the smell.”

Ok. A bit of blood returning to my head, I wasn’t totally brain dead, thank god, I could repost, just a little. Or not. Shit. The prettiest girl I’ve seen since… hell, since I moved to NY, but… witty conversationalist that I am, now I’ve got her thinking about the smell of puke, what a turn on that must be. Fuck.

“I mean…”

She laughed. “You know, that would probably improve that guy’s smell. He was trying to impress me earlier, and his cologne could just about suffocate a girl.”

Oh man. Beautiful AND smart… and quick. Wow.

“Not like yours though, yours is much more subtle, shows a difference in class.”

Gulp. What? Was that a … compliment? She WAS flirting with me! Really?!!?

But, of course, that was probably her operative mode, a slight flirt all the time, as a barrier. God knows she must get hit on constantly, she’s gotta have developed some good defenses. I’m looking into her eyes, such beautiful, blue green… and deep, I could just drown in there.

“Thanks.” I said. “You’re looking very elegant yourself, this evening. I’m sorry to have to meet you under these circumstances.”

She laughed again. Oh God! The sound of her laughter, it was like clouds parting with angels fluttering down to escort the rays of the sun. If a guy wasn’t so busy thinking about sex, he could fall in love. Damn. She must have built up some amaaaaazing defenses to get to her age in life. Not that she was old… probably, what, mid-20s? Not that I was going to ask.

She finishes laughing, says “oh you guys, you all think we’re so lady like that we don’t have to go to the bathroom, hell, we must spend 50 times as long in there as any of you just trying to look good.”

OMG! Was this beautiful creature… was she actually a REAL person?

“Well, some of us guys… turns out we have to groom a bit as well, so I suppose it’s not like you have the ***entire*** monopoly.”

She laughed again. At MY reply. Be STILL my HEART!

“Look,” she says, “I know the ropes here, you’re doing a very admirable job of not looking at my tits. Really, not once did your eyes wander, even though I can feel the magnetic pull, you want to, but you can be a real man enough to abstain, and address me as a real person. I do appreciate that. Some of these guys out there”, shakes her head back slightly to indicate the main room behind her at the other end of the hall, “it’s all they can do to look me in the eyes just once. Do you think I dress like this just so they can ogle me all night? Do I have THAT level of conceit? Dress to impress does NOT mean dress for sex. Well, not all the time, anyway. I must admit I’m not immune to the games of men and women, and I do have some ego, I do realize that I’ve been graced with some… gifts. So, yeah. I do like to dress up for parties. As one does.”

As one does. Oh my god, the amount of work it took to keep my mind off of her… gifts, as it were.

I said, “I’m just wondering if I fell asleep on the couch in there, and I’m just dreaming this…”

She laughs again. What a sound. “Yeah, I can be real, when I want. When it might be deserved, anyway. And that can shock a guy, especially if he’s not running any fluids through his brain at the moment, too busy trying to grow a third leg. But a real guy, one that has a real pair, will be able to talk to ME, not just attempt to throw sound at a sexy babe in the vain hope of a chance at some action, as it were. Anyway, you seem to be courteous enough to actually look at ME, and talk to ME. And that’s a LOT sexier than thinking that having a pair means a guy has to have the courage to convince me how much I need him to show me the size of his dick, that I should get all girly, and be sooooo impressed, and all of that.”

I said “Wow, ok… may I ask your name?”

“See there? Not, ‘what’s your name honey?’ Or, ‘a beautiful babe like you must have a really pretty name, right?’ Or “I’ve been waiting for you.’ Or, ‘hear that? Do you hear that music?’ Just so… corny, so overdone.”

So then I said “you know, you are Very pretty. Probably a lot of guys DO hear music. I could almost imagine angels playing violins or something, but they won’t be able to hear it if there’s no blood left in their heads. But to expect that YOU would hear it too, well…”

“See there?” she said. “That’s a real communication. Not something that’s calculated to make me weak in the knees, get me all swoony and stuff. Not that most of those guys could even add up 2 + 2, so granting them the ability to calculate, that’s perhaps a bit much. Maaaaybe they hear music, but from my observation it’s the sound of all that blood rushing down, it’s like they just hit flush on their brain and their blood heads to their nether regions.”

I was saved from having to be head clever and not dick head clever when the door behind me opened and the guy came out. I looked over at him as he walked past.

I said “Ok, didn’t smell too bad, so I guess he wasn’t looking for the shrine room after all.”

She chuckled.

Then I said “Would you like to go ahead? I realize it’s a bit more work for women to handle their attire than it is for men, when handling such duties, and it’s obvious that you’re not here for any scheduled porcelain prayers.”

She replied “I did hear you before, by the way. My name is Michelle. And yours?”

As I was untwisting my tongue, a bit slow to remember my name and all. I mean… just… gawd! She was so georgous! Before I could speak she reached out and took my hand. She was shaking my hand. I almost froze up altogether right there. But I didn’t… or hopefully I didn’t take toooooo much time…

“Carl, my name is Carl.” I managed to continue looking at her eyes.

“Well Carl, that’s very courteous of you to offer… let’s do this.”

What?

She didn’t let go of my hand. Instead, while keeping hold of it, and I was so shocked, that I don’t really know how she did this, but she stepped up level with me, held my right hand in her right hand, put her left hand to the small of my back, and gently, but firmly pushed me into the bathroom, stepping in with me, then she reached back and closed the door. Then locked it.

WTF???

I felt a bit… spinny, even though I’d only had… what, less than two beers? She was having quite the effect on me. Or… did Jim or someone spike the keg with something extra?

She looked at me. For the first time, I noticed something more, in her eyes… more than just mirth, something… almost, but not quite sinister. Something…

“Good Carl, good. Still looking at my eyes then? Good, that’ll come in handy… soon. You can look at my boobs now Carl. Yes, that’s it, you’ve been doing just, so well, at not staring at my boobs, but really, I understand. I do know you’ve been dying inside. Take a good look Carl, it’s ok.”

Wow. So I did, I slowly lowered my eyes down from hers, at her gorgeous cleavage, at the sheer red frills that so sexily outlined the deep, oval neckline of her tight dress… and then… her breasts. Damn. I COULD see her nipples now. Damn. Was she… was she turned on?

She STILL held my right hand. But now… she was using her index and middle finger to… to just slightly caress the inside of my wrist with her fingernails. Oh GOD!! What was she… I could feel the electricity travel up my arm, down my chest and right to my balls! Oh my GOD!

“I do have some power, dear Carl. I know it. And you know it. I know you FEEL it, my dear Carl. And it feels good to… to utilize just a bit of it, with the right… recipient. Do you like it Carl? Are you the right… recipient?”

It was all I could do not to drool, right there. Slobber hanging down my chin. Oh god.

“I uh… I uh… uh…”

“It’s ok Carl, we’re safe here, the doors locked. I mean, I’m sure some of the swinging Johnsons out there are wondering what happened to the sweet poon tang they were hoping for, like ‘where’s she go bro?’ But it’s just you and me in here. We can… play… a bit. If you want to… only if you want to… dear Carl.”

What the fuck was going down here? Did I even have a choice? Damn right I wanted to!

“Tell me, dear Carl. Would you like to play a bit? You’re MUCH more my type than those big apes out there. Even if they are big, and I do like big, don’t get me wrong. I just don’t like big AND stupid, and the bigger they get, just way too often, the stupider they get. It’s such an awful dichotomy, for a poor, needy girl like me, don’t you think, Carl?”

OMG OMG OMG

She was still stroking my wrist lightly with her fingernails. Lightning going back and forth to my balls. And it was getting awful uncomfortable in my briefs. Man, I was getting HARD.

“Look at my toes, Carl.”

I tore my eyes away from her breasts, and looked down at her sexy toes.

“That’s good Carl. Now look up at my breasts.”

I did so.

“And up at my eyes.”

I did so.

“And down at my breasts.”

I complied.

“And down at my toes.”

I did.

“And up.”

I looked at her breasts.”

“And up.”

I looked into her eyes.

“And down.”

I looked down at her breasts.

“And down.”

I looked at her toes.

“And up.”

And she had me repeat, again and again and again, over and over and over. I don’t know for how long. I was hooked man, I was totally hooked. I didn’t know what the heck she was into, but I was hooked, line and sinker, the whole shebang. Now that’s a strange phrase, don’t you think? Shebang… wow, I was so… so… way more than just a couple beers going on here…

“That’s good Carl. Now up.”

I looked into her deep, deep eyes.

“Yes Carl, good boy. That’s a good boy. I could tell, the moment Jim let you in, I could tell. I actually got excited, thinking ‘Hey! Now there’s a guy that looks like he might just be my type. For tonight. So I slipped a little something in your beer. Really helps when I put you under like this, don’t you think, Carly?”

Ooooooohhhhh fuck……….