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How can best intentions go so wrong.

I rose to meet her, my butt lifting off of the barstool, but just as I did so, she gently pushed me back onto the seat, as the envious males scattered around the bar and tavern looked on covetously to find out who was this beauty's lucky companion for the evening. Me.

She flicked her hair back with an exaggerated twist of her long neck, and smiled, pearly teeth glimmering in the fluorescent lighting of the tavern, and uttered her opening line, stealing it from one of our favorite movies that Steph and I had discussed in past small-talk with great amusement.

"I'm Winston Wolf," Steph said, as my face broke out in glee. "I solve problems." The reference was to Harvey Keitel's famous character 'The Cleaner' from Pulp Fiction.

Before I could express my delight at her analogy and the persona that she chose to assume, she held a finger to my lips, effectively shushing me. "I don't want to know your name, it doesn't matter to me." I sat silently, obediently, nodding slightly, indicating my comprehension.

Her almond eyes bore into mine with unbridled lust. "Your only role tonight is to fuck me, lick me, to provide your cock and tongue and body for my pleasure. Understand?" Strangely enough, I was totally with the program. I nodded again, afraid to speak.

"I've booked a room at the Iris Inn, the Bed and Breakfast right down the street. Follow me."

I did, watching her delectable ass shake as she walked ahead of me, tossing a twenty to the startled bartender.

The Iris Inn is a lovely Victorian B and B just a few doors now from Braddock's on Main Street in the small village of Medford. We held hands but didn't speak on the short walk, and as we traversed the stairs to Room number 5, the Kate Lilly room, my suspicions were confirmed as the upskirt view from my vantage point a few steps below showed that Steph was adorned in only a glimmering pussy under her dress.

The room itself was basically all bed, which was all we would need, and it sat in front of a huge bay window covered by satin lavender drapes. The bed frame was perhaps six feet higher than the mattress, a wrought-iron and brass cathedral, and a pair of handcuffs already dangled from one corner, one cuff chained to the frame, the other waiting for its captive, to be confined, subjugated, restrained, controlled. I assumed that this was not a complimentary staple item of the room, not like an iron or an ice bucket.

I also assumed the handcuffs were meant for me to wear. What's that old saying, what happens when you assume.....?

Stephanie pulled the dress over her head, revealing a body that looked even more spectacular naked than when in her wonderful wardrobes. Kicking off her sandals, standing naked before me, she looked at me sheepishly, almost apologetically.

"This has always been a fantasy of mine, to have a stranger I just met tie me up and have his way with me, make me his love slave. I figure this might be my only chance, with a handsome man that I can trust, and there will be no memory of it come Monday. These are two fantasy people, you and me, for this night, OK?"

She dropped to her knees, unzipping my pants, pulling out my thick cock which had yearned for sweet relief since eight-thirty the previous morning. "Do you think you can play along?"

Yeah, Steph, I think I'll be able to manage.

Not to disappoint in her role of self-appointed love slave, Stephanie swiftly took my long cock into her throat, tightly grasping me with all of her mouth, twisting my head, and simultaneously pumping her hands up and down the shaft. Streams of spittle seeped from the corners of her lipsticked mouth, down my entire shaft, saturating my heavy, full balls.

She was pumping diligently with her left hand now, and more urgently with her mouth, groaning as she swallowed my dick, squeezing my balls with her other hand, and I felt them instantly tightening.

Her thin mouth caused my cock to strain and ache, her talented lips were setti

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