The Little Mouse’s Secret Desire
As the owner of a boutique adult novelty business, I had built a unique system. I employed a team of consultants to visit clients at home, knowing that many women felt too shy to enter a sex shop. However, one request caught my eye. A woman calling herself “The Little Mouse” had specifically requested The Owner. She didn’t want an employee; she wanted the man in charge.
When I arrived at her home in La Molina, I was breathless. Dina was a stunning woman in her thirties, petite but perfectly proportioned. She wore a daringly short denim skirt, a plunging black top that teased the curves of her small, firm breasts, and nine-centimeter heels that gave her a Parisian elegance. Her caramel eyes held a spark of mischief that told me she was far more than a mere customer.
We began with wine and a catalog, but the air between us was thick with unspoken tension. To break the ice, I suggested a game called “Sexy Game,” where cards dictated a series of dares. What started as innocent—a piece of ice traced across my chest—quickly escalated. Dina’s curiosity grew, and she insisted on playing the more “dangerous” cards, claiming she wanted to see the products for a friend. We both knew the friend was a fiction.
The game became a catalyst for our mutual hunger. I remember the thrill of touching her breasts through her thin shirt, feeling her nipples harden instantly under my fingertips. When a card commanded me to kiss her neck for thirty seconds, her shiver of pleasure confirmed that she was just as desperate for me as I was for her. The pretense of the game vanished when I pulled her into a deep, commanding kiss, my tongue meeting hers in a feverish dance.
We moved to the bedroom in a blur of shedding clothes. Once naked, Dina transformed from a shy mouse into a hungry tigress. She worshipped me with a greedy intensity, her eyes locked on mine as she used her lips and tongue to drive me to the brink. In return, I explored every inch of her, my tongue finding the sweet, drenched heat of her center. She was multi-orgasmic, her body arching and shaking beneath me as I pushed her higher and higher.
The passion was relentless. We experimented with every position, using a mirror to watch the sight of our bodies entwining. I loved the way her breasts bounced with every thrust, the way she gripped my shoulders and begged for more. We pushed boundaries, exploring the depths of each other’s pleasure until we were both spent, covered in the evidence of our mutual obsession.
As the night wound down, Dina showed a softer, tender side, cleaning me with a warm cloth and a mischievous smile. But the fire hadn’t fully died. We spent the remaining hours rediscovering each other, blending power and tenderness in a way that left us both completely satisfied. I had come to sell a product, but I left having found a woman who was every bit as insatiable as I was.