Black FemDom Meets Kink-blind Boy Toy (incomplete draft)

[cu****]

I'd had a long, tiring week of work and male *** sooo I decided to put on my favorite, cute little red dress and head out the front door.

Surely live music could bring some level of satisfaction to this insatiable goddess. In the least I had always been fond of H.E.R since before her climb to notoriety and her angelic voice had brought me feelings of peace many times from before--albeit from afar. Adding elements of live tone, body language, and TOUCH.

Fuck...I haven't been touched in a while...

Who deserves to touch me? Surely I've seen the weakest wills man may contrive and surely no partner that fragile could be trusted to hold even a FRAGMENT of my energy; much less my body.

Not to get sidetracked! Anyway, so as not to burn myself out before the 3 hour concert, I threw my favorite spotify playlist on shuffle in the car as I turned it on to get the heat working. It was mid January in the Carolina valley and last night's rain had transformed into ice on my windshield from freezing temperatures that came in overnight.

"Monet: practice some patience today." I told myself as I began falling into coping by way of progressive muscle relaxation.

"Fuck. I forgot how weak I get to Daniel Caesar's voice."

I had to be strong. I always have to be strong.

Although I'm well into my "grown" stages now, the loving but wounded advice from my parents manifested as some sort of inner dialogue.

At times utterly life-saving. Most times, utterly suffocating.

See women that look like me in the South have had to accept conditions that *necessitate* strength when I'd rather just fulfill myself with love and serenity. People come and go who see me as more than my ***, but on any given day those exceptions don't quell the anxiety...

The car was warm and FUCK was I thankful I went all out for heated seats too. As the glassy rainwater dripped down my windshield and I reached to turn the wipers on, the space taken up merely seconds ago by Daniel Caesar's voice was occupied by the roaring drum beat and commanding guitar riffs of Fall Out Boy's "Centuries"

For a second, I forgot I was anxious and sunk into my "powerful earth goddess" zone.

Could I be a legend to be told? Will I be remembered for centuries?

Maybe one day but enough with the silliness; I had self care to practice. And that just so happened to be coming in the form of a LIVE, LOCAL PERFORMANC FROM A BUDDING ALL-TIME MUSICAL GREAT!!

The stressed out RBF that characterized my face after tiringly piecing myself together for this show had been displaced by a childlike grin.

I may have even giggled to myself a bit.

Was this happiness or joy? I'm honestly not sure but I'd take either where I could find them.

The highways were still a darkened shade of grey from last night's rain as I whipped toward downtown Charlotte on my fantasy rock n roll date with Patrick Martin Stumph. I'm sure I caught some glances from passing drivers 1 because, well, I'm fucking STUNNINGLY GORGEOUS 😉 and 2 because I was absorbed in a solo sing along...did you get the memo that it was a dance party too?

After a couple of slow drivers that I refused to let ruin my night and a stretch of Carolima highway, I had arrived.

"Tonight is about me, myself, and I." I thought to myself.

"Well, and H.E.R. She deserves some recognition after all..."

As I sat in my car touching up my subtle but striking makeup (I really just wanted a few more good mimutes in a warm seat) a crowd of people started flocking to the door. I guess it was my shot.

I had (and still have) a pair of gold-trimmed *** red 8 inch heels and of course I was gonna break them out for my solo night out. My eyeshadow was a deep purple (the kind that's so deep it almost looks like a vibrating onyx) mixed with tones of velvety fuscia. My lipstick was a darker but BRIGHT violet.

All in all, I was proud of my work and when I caught myself in the mirror my light, brown, smooth, healthy skin and grizzly brown eyes could not have had their radiance accented any more explosively.

**I couldn't have looked any more explosive and radiant**

It'd be a challenge to walk out of this show alone by night's end.

I started the party. I walked the fantasy runway. I strutted toward the venue with a little extra wiggle (my ass and thighs do enough on their own...) and a whole lotta soft Moxy.

Reggie Becton was her opener. A budding male R&B artist with a voice that could soften your knees without any semblance of physical touch...yeah, this was gonna be well worth it.

I scoped my surroundings as Reggie asked me if I was "listenin'".

I am Reggie, don't you worry...

The crowd was pretty diverse but mostly 20s/30s somethings. I'm not sure if there was one fem in there I wouldn't have kissed if I'm being honest...

As usual, the less worthy sex was more hit or miss. I saw a few that I *suppose* deserved a level of consideration, but one downright sexy, seemingly soft and gentle GIANT of a white boy admittedly caught my eye.

He wasn't there alone. Hed come with a group of 3 others. Judging from my people watching and eavesdropping, the (likely) younger fem was his ***. The shorter, wirey boy seemed to be his roommate (he NEVER shut up) and there was a greyish-haired lady with purple, rounded rim glasses on to round out the posse.

That had to have been his mother or the closest thing he'd had to one...

The way his eyes lit up and his silence turned into chatter when his matriarch asked him about the performers and he just GEEKED. OUT.

Not only was he HOT and silent in the almost scary way that makes a girl know he's not ignorant, he KNEW. HIS. SHIT.

Fuck. Am I really going back to men for a strawberry beard, a well-kempt manbun, olive green northface, and tannish brown ankle-high boots?

I mean...he loves his mama and good music...

I can't seem too eager. Its not in my ***. I MAKE OTHERS eager. That's why I chose the hustle I did.

But FUCK I wanted him and when I'm set, I have a hard time accepting accepting masculine rejection.

All those "I'm kinky and kinda online about it" thoughts came rushing in.

"Does he know he's captivated the attention of a slim, thick, young, alluring MISTRESS?"

"Has he seen my site?"

"Is he too fragile to handle my sexual independence?"

"Is he going to hurt me?"

I wasn't sure but was hoping it could at least be reciprocal...

No. Fuck that. I wanted to RUIN THIS MAN'S LIFE!

My dress was cut in the middle so as to show just enough juice in my thighs without giving out a free show (after all, this mistress LOVES $)

He'd take short, quick, respectful glances toward me; never staring creepishly..."good boy"

It became evident that he had put the outing together in context.

Woah--he's separating for a minute...

"Do I make the first move? Will I come on too strong?"

Fuck a man who can't handle a resilient (and irresistible) female lead in my life's plot. He'll get over it.

I had presumed he might be going to quench his thirst at the bar so I slowly STUNTED over toward the bar as I realized he was actually stepping outside and..seemed to be..sorta sneaking away?

So he does have a secret...

He stepped outside and that likely meant smoke...but what kind?

I didn't care much for cigarettes myself although there was something covertly hot about the smell of smoke on a partner...

As I penetrated the exit way toward the patio, I saw him at the far end of the bench turned away from the crowd.

Ok so he's either REALLY ashamed to smoke cigarettes orrr...he's calming his nerves as an act of civil disobedience??

Sexy.

I left the every day stoner life behind after my late ***s and early 20s, although I still partake from time to time in safe settings with trusted people.

Is it a blunt, a joint, or a piece?

If it's a blunt, he might be a bit of a fuckboi.

If it's a joint, he's an occasional toker who appreciates the tastes and tones.

If it's a piece, he's frugal but disobedient.

Ahh fuck it... I'd want him regardless.

Here goes nothing..

"Hey! Who are you most looking forward to seeing tonight?"

I had done it. I opened this can of worms--albeit gently and guising my intimidatingly positive self-image. My anxiety told ne to wonder if he'd look past me for my complexion or my courage in approaching him first...

That inner critic was quickly shut the fuck up by a, "Oh hi! First of all, I have to say your eyeshadow is so well-done and it's been a while since I've seen a woman walk that comfortably in heels that high..."

"And he matched my energy? Fuck...I'm in trouble."

"As far as who I'm here to see mean I DEFINITELY love H.E.R. and the quantitative and qualitative success she's had as an artist at a fairly young age but Reggie SOLD. ME!"

"oh that's cool!" I replied, "I'd only scratched the surface with Reggie before coming, but he does have a way of possessing the entire venue with his voice from what I've seen. But yeah, H.E.R is definitely an icon. I might even say she's on track to be listed up there with Mary J. Blige, Beyonce, and Rihanna as far as her style."

"THANK YOU!!" he exclaimed as he coughed up some of the blunt he'd just lit.

"Hehe...you okay over there? Do you want some help with that?" I asked him as a soft, alluring smile came over my face realizing he was...well, real.

"You smoke? Of course...this stuff isn't meant to be hoarded."

He passed me the blunt.

I was admittedly a little excited that within 10 minutes of our conversation, I had come within a few inches (or however long blunts are haha) of swapping spit with him.

I could tell, though, by the glow in his eyes when he realized I took an interest that the prospect of us swapping spit was surely eating him more than it was me.

Just the way I like it.

"You know...you have nice taste too. I love simple, earthy colors and your northface sweater really complements your hair color. Whats your name?"

"Aldo" he replied. "Aldo Esposito. How about yours?"

"Monet, love. Monet Cayson. Are you Italian??"

"Culturally, yeah. My paternal family is Italian and my grandfather was first generation. Our reunions were definitely whole events...hahaha"

He had this hardy and sincere laugh about him. Almost childlike coated in the bass that comes with manhood.

"Haha!" I chuckled with a slight sense of nerve and a strong sense of **chemistry**

"I bet! It's good to have that connection, though."

"No absolutely! Reckless as we can get, there's always a lot of love at the grandparents' house and they're gonna make sure you know it. Usually by way of some rich, decadent paisono cuisine."

I'd let him eat something decadent and creamy...

"How about you?" He asked. "Fuck the formalities: what's your story?"

Haha NOT at the music hall. Not tonight.

"Hmmm...where do I start. A southern gem who's hit a few roughs but who's mostly been put in her own little spotlight by the ones that love her. I'm a performer...if you count singing in the car or the shower hehe."

I clarified, "by trade, though, I work as a marketing and communications coordinator for a nonprofit local to RDU."

"Oh that's rad! You must have a big heart," he affirmed me

"Do you mind if I ask which organization you work for?"

"I try to keep it mostly private. It's nothing against you, but we play in some pretty controversial camps and--well I just need to keep myself safe."

"Ahh for sure. I respect that. Sounds spicy though...maybe we'll broach that topic at another time."

Remember that thing about the thought of us swapping spit eating him more than me? Oh yeah... it's become nearly obvious at this point.

"Sooo at the expense of being a bit direct," I softly qualified, "are you in a relationship? Oh! And how old are you by the way?"

"No worries," he responded, "I love direct from women."

I quickly jumped in to forewarn him, "GOOD! Because I'm nothing if not forward, love."

"Haha! Don't threaten me with a good time...and I'm 29. How about you?"

"Guess." I commander him.

I have him in my palm... I can at least play with him a little bit.

"Well your looks say 21 but the personality is giving me 26--no, 27."

"Close..."

"Aren't you gonna tell me??" He enthusiastically asked in jest.

"Not yet! You have to give me one number as a guess."

I'm the boss here, baby boy... he's just lucky to get a taste.

"You drive a hard bargain, but I'm gonna say...24."

"You were REALLY close. I'm 23."

Is there still a concert going on or can I get naked and hold this little boy back with my 8 inch heel?

"Ahh okay okay. Wait--you never told me...are you single?"

(It's complicated)

"Yes. Have been by choice for a few years now."

"If I may be a bit direct: that's music to my ears. Your beauty caught my eye the minute you walked in... speaking of which, I think we're missing a good bit of the show. Do you--"

"No I'm honestly loving it out here talking to you..."

I quickly shut that down. He's in this queen widow's web...hehehe

"Sooo" we both uttered nearly simultaneously.

"Wait. You first!" He requested.

Good. He knows his place.

"So I was just gonna ask you...do you like cats?"

"They're pretty cool! I just love ***s to be honest. You?"

Well that setup flew right over his head...

"I love them...if I told you I had a cat, would you want to pet it? Don't lie..."

If he doesn't pick it up here, this boy's a lost cause with his game...

"I honestly think I'd love to."

His voice softened yet the expression felt more real. He hadn't faked anything to me to this point (or at least I hope) but something about his tone just cut right to my sensual core.

"May I ask.." he politely prefaced.

"Any time, love."

"Are we talking about the same cat?"

"I'm honestly almost certain we are...how did you get here?"

"I drove, but my *** brought my mom separately and my roommate..."

"Chatterbox? Hehe"

Oops. Was that out loud?

"Yeahhh...him. Nick. He rode with me. What'd you have in mind?"

"Isn't it becoming clear I'd like to get out of here; preferably with you?" I directed the boy.

Men are simple. They need direct prompting. Sorta like an AI chatbot but with genitals...

I bet he has a nice dick

Aldo in all of his cuckish allure simply gave me a, "yes ma'am. I'll let my roommate know so he doesn't miss his ride home. Want to follow me in?"

"I'm honestly loving being outside... don't worry, boo, I'll be right here when you get back..."

That's my way of showing him I don't need him.

But I do really want his face as a throne. A goddess desires what a goddess desires.

Aldo took a quick breathe (I'd got him HOT) "Perfect," he muttered, "I'll be right back."

I'd kept my phone tucked away for nearly 45 minutes so of course I was overdo for a check in with my servants...

"Mistress I love your feet and want to suck your toes."
"My cock is all yours, mistress. Use it like your play toy..."
"Mistress Monet, your ass is DIVINE! So perky and curvy and smooth...what I wouldn't give you just to touch it."

Business as usual. *lock screen. Tuck in pocket*

This boy doesn't know how lucky he really is...I could just go home right now and be fine on my own.

But I won't do that. Not tonight.

Aldo comes back out at a walking pace analogous to that of an honor roll 8th grader on her way to a final she's running late for.

(I'm convinced that men never really grow up, they just develop a sex drive. But I digress.)

"You ready?" He asks. "Do you want to head toward yours or mine?"

"Definitely mine," I quickly make clear. "I'm in a luxury, downtown apartment Airbnb and trust me... I'm gonna get what I paid for. I guess tonight you're lucky enough to get a taste, too..."

"And pet the cat? I'm a lucky man!" He asked facetiously.

Boy. But I can remind him of his boyishness at another time. For now, I'll let the man (boy) live...

"She's pretty, too," I tell him with a musing grin over my back shoulder as we're walking to our cars.

A 2021 Audi A6? What does this boy do for ***? I suppose we'll find out when he spends more of it on his musical muse.

Of course, though, I pretend not to see it until he asks me which car is mine.

"Oh I drive the red Hyundai Sonata in the corner there," I point out.

"Red draws attention from cops," Aldo "the wise" tells me, "I hope you're not a s***der..."

What are you: a cop?

"Haha who me?? No I ALWAYS follow the rules," I tell him in complete and utter dishonesty.

"We'll see..." He teases. "as long as I don't lose your tail following you home, it's kosher."

I pretend to be a super independent woman who's not CRAVING his tongue deep within my wet cunt and tight asshole caressing from north to south until he just feasts...

I even check my phone again before I sit down.

"I'M SO UNWORTHY OF YOUR BEAUTY! HOW CAN I SERVE YOU MISTRESS MONET?"

This cuckboi is virtually screaming at me just to talk to him.

Yep. I got it like that...

Aldo on the other hand is much less conspicuous. He hops in his (admittedly sexy) car and before I even leave the parking lot, I hear "Fuckin' Problems" blasting from his sound system.

Okay *phew* so he does have at least a *little* fuckboi in him. As problematic as it is, I can't stand nice guys who are just.. actually..nice?

I'm a goddess, don't tell me I can't have both.

Here we go I suppose, Aldo "The Wise"

Doja cat juicy comes on my spotify shuffle. Yup, it's official. I'm feeling myself. And if I allow him to, Aldo will be soon as well hehe

I definitely didn't obey the s***d limits on the way home but to this little Italian lumberjack's credit, he never lost my tail...

I pull in with my cultured boy toy just behind me. I get out with an intentional leg up and flash him a glimpse of the feast (these LEGZZ) as I flip my hair to the left side (my right face is my good face)

This time he's seemed to have found some manner of being non chalant. He checks his phone as he stands by his car and retucks his jeans into his city boy boots.

Does he know who I am? Is he prepared to let me lead? I haven't had any complaints, yet...

I *slowly* approach the lobby doors seeing as I've already typed him as the kinda southern gent to hold the door for me and, well, being served is kinda my kink.

Of course, as is nearly always the case, I'm right and he does the little "I'm running I promise" shuffle to the door and holds it for me to go before him.

"Aww, that's sweet," I praise him, "thank you!"

Yeah, he better know his role.

We greet the security guard at the desk briefly inside of a spacious yet simple white and black apartment lobby as we make our way toward the SPOTLESS stainless steel elevator doors.

DAMN I look like a dime tonight.

I guess he's up to par, too *rolls eyes*

He gently puts his right hand around my hip as we await the next elevator to the 16th floor. I'm weirdly more than okay with it.

Just as the lift is about to hit the ground floor, he reaches in to softly move my hair from the left side of my neck and lays his soft lips upon my neck and ear. At first he's simply kissing my skin.

"I've never wanted anyone the way I want you right now..." He says seductively.

FUCK. Okay I'll admit my clit caught a voracious THROB at the sound of those words from his deep and affirming voice.

*DING* The doors slide open and next might just be my legs. As the elevator doors close on us, he lets his macho side get the best of him; walking me back against the wall in an act of flirtatious intimidation.

I had to make myself known in that moment and hope he wouldn't shift in the private eye.

I grab him by his shirt collar with one hand and put the other index finger over his soft, warm lips as I tell him, "if you think you're running the show tonight, you must not know who I am..."

He pulls his upper body back so as to recognize my power. At first, his look is one of boyish shock. Quickly--though--it became a sinister bjt comtrolled grin and that kind of "bright eyed bushy tailed" expression that comes when something is brand new.