The Majestic Mr. Jong
"So, how're you doing?" Mr. Borg asked.
Jonathan Borg, 51, stood 6'4" and weighed a lithe 210 pounds. He had shoulder length, straw colored hair and a wide, beautiful smile.
Michelle Barrister responded in kind to his sweet and caring baritone voice.
"Really well," she sprung back, "thanks for inviting me. You have a beautiful home Mr. Borg, and the lake is just lovely."
Michelle's eyes were the deep-sea, blue color of the Pacific Ocean on a sunny, cloudless day. Her thick, straight, chestnut brown hair reached mid-back, and she had the figure of a Sports Illustrated swimsuit model.
Jonathan looked directly into her twinkling eyes, and she met his stare with a sultry confidence. For a few moments they held the gaze, and both felt sparks of sexual attraction. Jonathan looked away first, wondering how many men had been swept away by those captivating, sparkling pearls.
Redirecting the conversation, he told her, "I know, that's the main reason I love it out here so much. I think it's one of the most beautiful lakes in the State. And please Michelle, you can call me Jonathan."
"Oh, okay. Done." She responded. "So, Jonathan, how long have you lived out here?"
Jonathan heard a flirtatious tone in the question and took it as an opportunity to check Michelle out. He loved what he saw. Michelle's bikini tube top corralled perfectly shaped breasts into dangling, D-cup melon fruit, and her tight, fleshy stomach led to gorgeous hips and thighs.
The string bikini housed a puffy camel toe, and Jonathan wondered what it'd be like to peel those bottoms down and have himself a closer look. If I jerk that fucking top up those awesome tits will pop out like compressed water balloons, he thought. Then I could get behind her and cup them, go in front underneath and suckle them...
Jonathan suddenly became aware of his in-your-face ogling and forced himself out of the trance. When he refocused, he discovered a slightly creeped out expression on Michelle's pretty face.
"Oh, about a year ago now," he cheerfully answered, casually wrenching his mind away from the overt sexual fantasies. He peered out at the shimmering water. "I originally bought the house as a weekend getaway but liked it so much I made it my permanent residence."
He glanced back to secretly check on her comfort level, and happily discovered Michelle checking him out, her peepers locked onto the well-endowed package in his thong swimsuit. She looked up, unabashed, and offered him a cheeky, white-toothed grin.
"Tit for tat then?" She giggled.
"Tit for tat." Laughed Jonathan.
He's gorgeous, Michelle thought. And loaded. I'll fuck him but not tonight. He's gonna have to work for it. "Let's swim!" she whooped.
"Okay!" Jonathan hollered, and together they dove off the long dock into Lake Blackstone.
After a thoroughly refreshing swim, the middle-aged host and his twentysomething guest took separate showers and reunited in the dining room, where Jonathan had already poured two glasses of Freixenet Cordon Negro, his favorite reasonably priced champagne. One of the flutes contained two crushed tablets of benzodiazepine, a powerful sedative known on the streets as roofies and Mexican valium.
Michelle pranced into the capacious dining room feeling as giddy as a Looney Tunes cartoon character. Upon seeing Jonathan, she smiled graciously, wondering if she should pinch herself. She had wanted to hook up with the majestic Mr. Jong for a long time, ever since their first meeting at an art gallery opening in Toronto, where he had been hobnobbing with members of the haut monde and she had been working as a catering assistant.
Admiring the modern, all white interior of the dining space and adjacent kitchen, complete with a fully functional island and the latest in sleek stainless-steel appliances, Michelle thought she might have died and gone to heaven.
"It's stunning!" Michelle heard herself saying. "I mean, just everything."
"Glad you like it," said Jonathan.
He beamed at her, and she almost blushed. Mine, he thought. Clueless, no idea what's coming. I'm going for those incredible tits first. Oh my god, I can't wait to rub my cock all over her areolas.
He gestured at the chilled bucket of bubbly. "Would you like some?"
"Are diamonds a girl's best friend?" quipped Michelle, reaching for the stemware.
"Uh, uh, uh," Jonathan commanded, quickly grabbing the spiked glass for his soon-to-be new sex toy with his right hand, while gallantly scooping up the second glass with his left hand. "Here you are, my dear."
"Why thank you, good sir." Michelle deadpanned. "Don't mind if I do."
They raised their glasses, making goo-goo eyes at each other.
"A toast," Jonathan started. "Cheers to...", and then in unison they each let out a chirpy "us!"
The paramours celebratorily clinked glasses and drained their first drinks, with Jonathan quickly refilling them. They sat at the dining room table drinking glass after glass and talking about everything under the sun until finally Jonathan tossed the empty bottle neck first into the watered-down ice bucket.
"Come out onto the deck with me," Jonathan declared, "the sunsets are fabulous."
"Okay, I'd love to." Michelle purred.
The huge, second story balcony had a magnificent view of the lake and surrounding hillsides. Michelle searched the shore and treelined slopes for other houses but couldn't find any.
"I don't see any other homes," she declared quizzically.
"That's because there are none," Jonathan bragged. "Blackstone's a fairly small lake, only about 50 acres, so everything your sexy little eyes can see is within the 800-acre parcel I own."
"Wow." She said, genuinely impressed. "You own your own lake!"
Michelle's right knee suddenly buckled, and she had to grab the railing to keep from toppling over.
"Oh my God," Michelle exclaimed, "I'm a bit woozy all of a sudden."
"Here, sit down," Jonathan quickly offered, leading her to a lounge chair.
"I don't know," she stated, sitting down. "I'm usually pretty good at holding my liquor, although we did down that first bottle rather quickly. Sorry, I'll try to slow down."
"It's okay baby," Jonathan whispered in her ear. "Let's have fun, I'll bring out another bottle."
"No, wait, I don't think I should." Michelle insisted. "I feel so dizzy now, so heavy. Just give me a minute to clear my head Jonathan, I'll be alright."
"Okay, I'm right here baby." Jonathan answered. "You're going to be fine."
Jonathan began rubbing Michelle's back and shoulders, and for a few moments she experienced relief. But about a minute later Michelle felt all the power in her extremities instantly dissolve, and she nearly passed out, her head snapping backwards.
"Somethings wrong," She moaned. "I don't feel good."
Jonathan cradled her head, raising it back up. He moved his right hand onto her and breasts and started groping them.
"What are you do...?" She slurred. "No, that's...too...fast. I don't want to do that."
"You'll feel better with my hard cock in your mouth," Jonathan assured her.
"What? No, wait. What are you doing Jonathan?" Michelle breathed, half asleep. "Please don't do this!"
"I'm already doing it Michelle, and you know it. I see that look on your face. I've seen it before. You realize what's happening, that you're under my control, that there's nothing you can do about it, and you instinctively understand your precarious situation, but you can't stop it. I own you baby, you're mine now."
Michelle wanted to object but her ability to speak seemed lost, like her thoughts were traveling through a pitch-black tunnel with a hazy, yellow hazard light blinking from somewhere far outside the distant exit.
"I gave you a roofie," Jonathan rasped. "And I'm going to fuck your mouth, your tits, your cunt, and your ass. I'm going to fuck all of you Michelle, but especially that sexy goddamn mouth. I'm going to rub my hot cock all over those sensual lips, giving you a nice dose of pre-cum. Do you like the taste of pre-cum baby? It comes out in such sweet little drops, don't you think, compared to a gob of sperm? But don't worry, I'm planning to plaster your angelic little face with all my goo at the end baby. In the meantime, let's have a look at those Playboy Bunny boobs baby, okay? Because I've been wanting to spit on them ever since the art gallery."
