Photo by PantherMediaSeller

Willow’s Kiss

A Dream Cum True Fuck Bench

Taking a deep breath, as I always do, seconds before taking on a new project, I knock on the door to my latest referral’s modest two-storey house. A few seconds pass, the door opens, and a short, beautiful woman in her early forties with the most voluptuous body I’ve ever seen greets me with a somewhat cautious smile.

“Ms. Stirling?” I ask as gently as possible to minimize my imposing six-foot-three stature.

“Yes?”

“Hi. I’m John. John Carpenter with Dreams Cum True. I believe we have an appointment today?”

“Yes. Yes,” the single mother of two says quickly. “Please come in. Come in.”

I quickly step inside the house, wondering if my potential new client worries my rich black skin tone will lead to gossip on her mostly-white suburban street. As she guides me to her kitchen, I dismiss the notion and wonder how often she attends meetings at home, wearing her long brown hair in pigtails and orange tiger-printed minidresses with deep plunging necklines.

“Can I get you something to drink? Water? Ginger ale? A beer?” she asks while looking me up and down with a hint of attraction in her vibrant brown eyes.

“A ginger ale would be great,” I say, sitting at her kitchen island. “It’s a hot one today.”

“Really? It seemed quite cool outside when I opened the door.”

“Yes. That’s true. But I wasn’t really talking about the weather.”

Handing me a glass of ginger ale and blushing from my lame attempt at being suave, Ms. Stirling says, “I’m glad you could fit me into your schedule today. Your services come highly recommended.”

I sip my drink and say, “Amber had nothing but sweet things to say about you, Ms. Stirling. And she made me promise to treat you as good as we treat her on pain of death.”

“I bet,” she says, laughing. “And you can call me Willow.”

I nod and say, “And you can call me John.”

Taking a seat opposite me, giving me a lovely view of her cleavage, Willow asks, “So, how does this work, John? I’ve never done anything like this before.”

“Did Amber not share her experience with you?”

“My old sorority sister shared the highlights more than the specifics if you know what I mean.”

“I got you,” I say with a light laugh. “Well, every client experience is different except how we start the consult. Before we discuss what you want to be built, we get to know you through a few questions. Some are personal, but all are designed to give me and my team a clear picture of what you want and how best we can meet your needs.”

Willow takes a deep breath, straightening her back, and hesitantly says, “Okay.”

“Hey. Don’t worry. I won’t ask you anything I need to take to the grave. I promise.”

Willow laughs, and her shoulders relax. She sips the ginger ale she handed me and says, “Okay. Ask away.”

“Alright. Let’s start with something simple. Did you see the piece we built for Amber?”

“I did.”

“And what did you think of it?”

“It was a little intimidating but also arousing. But, if I’m being honest, maybe not for me.”

“Why is that?” I ask, picturing a naked and sweaty Amber lying on her back with her legs spread wide, strapped to her ultimate obedience chair, as her husband of fifteen years masturbates in the corner of their playroom while watching his wife penetrated by my company’s bestselling fuck machine.

“I suppose it’s because when I look at that chair, it reminds me how much Amber enjoys pushing the boundaries of her relationship with her husband, Teddy. I want something that I feel is designed to push the boundaries of my being. I don’t want it to be about anyone else.”

“Okay,” I nod, smiling. “I like that.”

“Can I ask you a question?” Willow asks, blushing.

“Of course.”

“Amber said your work comes with additional services that are… some might say intimate and hands-on. Is that true?”

“Yes. It is. We don’t always offer it. It depends on the client and the work they’ve commissioned.”

“And these additional services… are you the one who performs them?”

“That is strictly up to you, Willow. If that’s what you want, I am happy to oblige. And I mean that sincerely. But before we can reach that point, we need to discuss what you desire from Dreams Cum True.”

“Okay,” she says with a nod. “Come with me.”

Willow leads me to the surprisingly large basement of her house and says, “Over the next few months, I’m going to have the basement remodelled. A portion of it will be my home office, while most of it will be my playroom. The two will be divided by a wall, with the entrance to the playroom being a bookcase, doubling as a hidden door.”

“Cool.”

“Yeah. I saw it once on a program and have been dying to have one.”

“I like the idea of the bookcase. It ensures your kids won’t stumble onto it while playing.”

“That shouldn’t be a problem. I had the twins young, raising them on my own mostly.”

“I heard,” I say, prompting Willow to look at me questioningly. “Amber gave me the highlights more than the specifics.”

“Sounds like Amber,” Willow says, rolling her eyes with a light laugh. “At any rate. My kids are grown and live their own lives now. But it doesn’t hurt to play it safe if they spend the holidays with me instead of their father.”

“Of course. And you would like a special piece for this new playroom, I take it?”

“I would. Very much.”

“And what exactly did you have in mind?”

Willow’s cheeks slightly blush as she smiles, bites her lower lip and says, “Can I see your phone for a minute?”

I hand her my phone and watch her fingers quickly tap away at the screen. She returns the device and says, “I’d like you to build this for me. And I would like it if you helped me break it in, so to speak.”

I look at the screen and say, “If you don’t mind me asking, why come to us for this piece? I’m sure you can get it at several BDSM stores.”

“You’re right. I could, but the ones I’ve seen don’t seem built for someone with my height or…”

“Your particular curves?”

“Yes. Exactly. The overall reviews by heavier customers have been negative, with most claiming misleading specifications. And according to Amber, your company specializes in making the bigger dreams come true.”

“We do. And we will,” I say with my best reassuring smile. “How about we go back upstairs and work out the finer details? Colour, accessories, wish list for first use, that sort of thing?”

“I’d like that,” Willow says, leading me out of her basement and giving me a delicious glimpse into our future.

Three months pass, and I’m standing outside Willow’s house on a Saturday night, a few minutes after ten o’clock. As requested by my client, I’m wearing a tailored dark blue three-piece suit that compliments my height and muscular frame and a cologne known for its chocolate and leather undertones. Taking a deep breath, I knock on the door and take a small step back. The door opens, and it feels like my pants might rip, trying to contain my erection.

“Good evening, Willow,” I say in my natural baritone voice, admiring my client’s tantalizingly short yet elegant black satin robe with its polka dots barely hiding her provocative open-cup black leather harness bra, suspender belt and crotchless thong.

“Good evening, John. Please. Come inside,” Willow says casually, brushing her long brown hair styled with thick waves to the side, making me wonder if she wants to give her neighbours something good to gossip about.

“Did everything arrive to your specifications?” I ask as I step inside the house, noticing the lights throughout the main floor have been dimmed.

“Yes, John. They did,” Willow says with such excitement in her eyes I can’t help but smile. “Shall I take you down now?”

“How about we have a drink first? Maybe show me the surprise you have for me under that robe. And then we go downstairs.”

“Of course, John,” Willow says softly. “Please. Follow me.”

Watching the rhythmic sway of Willow’s beautiful plump bare ass as she guides me to the kitchen has me subtly adjusting the position of my hard cock. I sit at the kitchen island and watch her casually move around the room. As she grabs a bottle of wine and two glasses, I silently enjoy mapping her curves in my mind and the scenic route I’ll take to the warm, wet paradise between her thick thighs.

Willow pours the wine, and we tap our glasses, looking into each other’s eyes. I drink enough of the merlot to be polite, put the glass down, spread my legs, pointing between them, and say, “Come here.”

I take Willow’s glass from her hand as she stands close enough that I can smell the soft floral scent of her perfume. I carefully brush her hair from her face, then lightly brush my hands over her breasts, feeling the softness of her robe and the firmness of her nipples.

“Open your robe,” I whisper. “But don’t take it off.”

Willow nods, her chest rising and falling quickly, and starts to unwrap her robe.

“Stop,” I say, slightly startling her.

“I’m sorry,” she says in a rush. “Did I do something wrong?”

“It’s okay,” I say reassuringly. “You just forgot one of tonight’s rules.”

“I did?”

I nod and say, “Any time I tell you to do something or ask you a question, how are you supposed to respond?”

“With your name or sir,” Willow says apologetically.

“That’s right. Now, let’s try this again. Open your robe, but don’t take it off.”

“Yes, sir,” Willow says, looking me in the eyes and opening her robe, revealing her heavy breasts, soft belly, and the meaty lips of her pussy peeking through her crotchless thong.

“Hmm. You look delicious tonight, Willow. What you’re wearing is quite fetching.”

“Thank you, John. I’m glad you like it.”

I take Willow’s hand and place it over my cock and say, “I more than like it, and it’s not just what you’re wearing that has me this hard. You know that, right?”

“I do now, John,” my client whispers, breathing a little heavier and licking her lips.

Willow and I share an unspoken decision to leave our drinks. My client takes me by the hand and guides me to her newly renovated basement. I casually look around the small office and can’t help but be impressed by the design and unassuming décor, as it exudes what you might expect from a middle-aged high school teacher living alone. Seeing the bookcase and knowing its purpose, I examine it, searching for its handle or trigger like a jeweller looking for flaws in a diamond. Unable to find anything besides textbooks, novels with worn spines, and a broken, fancy-looking mahogany clock, I say, “Okay. I’m dying to know. What triggers the doors.”

Willow smiles and walks up to the clock. She sets the big hand on the six and the little hand on the nine and stands back as the case splits in two, sliding open to reveal her naughty new playroom.

Holy shit.

I walk around Willow’s playroom in awe, admiring the gothic damask plum wallpaper covering the walls and the classy, sensual tone it breathes into the room. My pulse quickens as I inspect three large gold-framed Victorian mirrors strategically placed for the perfect voyeuristic views, and my cock throbs as I approach an antique walnut cabinet housing all forms of sex toys, from vibrators, anal beads and plugs, paddles and floggers.

Hmm. Lovely.

“So, what do you think, John? Do you like it?” Willow asks as she flips a small switch on the wall, closing the bookcase doors behind her and revealing a fourth mirror.

“You tell me,” I say, remembering I have a job to do and walking up to the custom-made fuck bench positioned in the middle of the room. “Did we make your dreams come true, Willow?”

My client smiles as she slowly walks around the fuck bench, caressing the soft black leather used to make the knees, arms and chest restraints and the adjustable elbow and knee pads. She bites her lower lip, looking at the head restraint and asks, “Does that come off, John, or will my head always be down?”

“It can come off, which we’ll do tonight, ensuring I make your more intimate wishes come true.”

“Perfect,” Willow whispers, making one more circuit of the bench. “So. How do we start, John?”

“Come to me.”

Willow stands in front of me without hesitation. I turn her around and slowly remove her robe while gently grazing my fingers down her back. I take her hand, place it over my cock, and whisper, “Do you feel that? Do you feel how hard I am?”

“Yes, sir,” she says timidly.

“I’ve been thinking…dreaming about you strapped to this bench and all of the naughty things you want me to do to you. It’s made me hard and desperate to cum, but tonight isn’t about my needs. Tonight is about yours. So, tell me, Willow. What do you want me to do first.”

Breathing heavily, Willow says, “I want to feel your tongue, sir. I want to feel your tongue licking my pussy until — .”

“I make you beg?”

“Yes, John.”

With pleasure.

I guide Willow to her new bench and help her mount it. I strap her arms and chest, caressing her warm skin, hoping to soothe any lingering fears or doubts she might be feeling, and then apply the straps to her knees. I step back, take a deep breath and lick my dry lips as I try to imagine anything more beautiful than my voluptuous client, practically naked, bent over a bench with her legs spread wide and ready to be dominated.

God, I love this job.

Standing behind Willow, teasing her tight asshole with the pad of my finger, I ask, “Are you comfortable?”

“Y-yes, sir. B-but — ?”

“But what?” I ask sternly.

“Will this hold me, John?”

“You needn’t worry. This bench was built to be durable and give you years of pleasure. Starting tonight,” I say, getting down on my knees, tearing the hole in Willow’s thong wider, and slowly dragging my tongue over her shaved fat pussy.

“Hmm. That feels so fucking good.”

I smile and slap my client’s ass hard, causing her to flinch and strain against her restraints.

“It feels good, what?” I ask.

“It feels so fucking good, sir. Please don’t stop.” Willow says, shifting her body as though to serve her pussy to me.

“Good girl,” I whisper, gently kissing her ass where I slapped it.

I lick Willow’s pussy slowly at first, wanting to tease her and discover what makes her moan. Savouring her juices, confident I’ve found all her sweet spots, I flick my tongue a little quicker and push it deeper. She lets out a low moan, and I hear the familiar sound of the leather straps being tested. I smile, sensing how close Willow is to having an orgasm, and slap her ass hard. She flinches, then pushes her ass in my face, tempting me to do more. I laugh and moan softly and suck her clit like a tiny straw attached to the most delicious juice box.

“Oh my God, John. That’s it. Don’t stop. I’m cumming. I’m cumming.”

Willow’s body violently spasms from the wave of pleasure coursing through her. Yet, the leather restraints hold, and the fuck bench remains intact under her weight. I slowly stand up, planting kisses on her dripping pussy and sweaty thighs, and decide it’s time to move on to the next item on my client’s wish list for the evening.

I walk around the front of the bench and brush Willow’s hair from her beautiful, sweaty face. I remove my jacket, unzip my pants, and pull my cock out. My client’s eyes go wide and wild with desire. I slip my thick cock into her warm, welcoming mouth and say, “Now. What shall we do to you next?”

As I mentally sort through the sex toys in the cabinet and decide which ones will test Willow’s boundaries while giving her the most pleasure, I slowly fuck her mouth with long deep strokes until she’s desperate for air, and I feel dangerously close to cumming.

Pulling my cock from her mouth, giving her a few minutes to catch her breath, I look at Willow, smile, and ask, “How did that feel, Willow? How did it feel knowing you weren’t sucking my cock as much as I was fucking your pretty little mouth?”

“More. I want more, sir.”

Hearing Willow consent to continue, I take off all my clothes in front of her. I stand close enough to her face that her tongue can reach the tip of my cock, and I watch her lick the pre-cum dripping from it. Ignoring the urge to slip my cock back into her mouth, I walk over to the cabinet and remove a perfectly balanced black paddle with XOXO etched into it.

Perfect.

I walk up behind Willow and rub the tip of my cock against her pussy, relishing the sound of her wetness, and say, “Do you want me to fuck you, Willow?”

“Yes, sir. Very much,” she whispers, trying to watch my every move in one of the mirrors.

“Well. Before I stick my cock in your tight, wet little cunt, I need to hear four magic words. If I don’t, I will use this paddle in my hand until your beautiful fat ass is a work of art celebrating the power of a warm hug and a hot kiss. Understand?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Then what are the four magic words?”

“I-I don’t know,” Willow says meekly.

I shake my head, take a small step back for better positioning, and tenderly rub the paddle against the right side of my client’s ass. Without warning, I spank her hard enough to make her scream out, and the light red XOXO appear almost instantly.

“Wrong answer, Willow,” I say, rubbing the paddle on the other side of my client’s ass. “Try again.”

“I want your cock, sir.”

“Close, my sweet Willow, but still too many words,” I say as I spank her a second time and see a matching XOXO appear.

Willow offers several more four-word phrases until her ass looks like the end of a tic-tac-toe tournament. She whispers the safe word to let me know she’s had enough spanking but still wants more, and I put the paddle down on the floor. I slip two fingers into her pussy and say, “You know what I want to hear, Willow. Just say the magic words.”

“Cum inside me, sir.”

“Say that again.”

“Cum inside me, sir.”

I caress Willow’s back and kiss it, tasting salt, sweat, and body lotion. I rub my cock up and down her pussy, then slowly slip it in, savouring the warm sensation of her juices coating my shaft. I grab her by the shoulders and fuck her with increasingly deeper and harder strokes. I hear the straining of the leather straps and fuck my client even harder.

“Oh my God. Your cock is so deep. That’s it, John. Cum inside me. Cum inside my tight little cunt.”

“That’s it. That’s it,” I grunt as I push my cock deep into Willow’s pussy and fill her with spurts of thick warm cum, triggering her second orgasm.

Fuck me. I love this job.

An hour and a half and a shower later, I’m standing at the door of Willow’s house, about to call it a night. Wearing a flannel robe, which some might consider appropriate for a single middle-aged high school teacher, Willow looks at me with bewilderment and lust and says, “I don’t know what to say. ‘Thank you’ just doesn’t seem enough.”

I smile and say, “You can thank me by giving the bench a name.”

“Seriously?”

“I know. It’s silly, but it’s a company tradition, and I’d hate to be the one to break it.”

“Okay. But I have no idea what to name it.”

“Might I suggest something?”

“Absolutely.”

“How about Willow’s Kiss?”

Blushing, my client asks, “Why that?”

I step toward Willow, bend over, and kiss her softly and deeply. I pull back, look into her eyes, and say, “Because having just one… is a Dream Cum True.”

This story was inspired by the August 10, 2024, Merriam-Webster Word of the Day: Durable.

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