Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements. Jena is a professional domme. I didn't know it when I met her. At the party of a mutual friend where we met, her roving eye caught my roving eye, and I was drawn to her.
It may have been her late thirties demeanor that attracted me, or it may have been her blonde hair, parted in the middle and curled under just before it reached her shoulders; perhaps it was the boots she wore - they looked good on her.
She had the look of a woman of authority - an executive assistant, maybe? Or an executive herself? Her body radiated strength. She appeared comfortable just to take in the scene at the party, and obviously wasn't with anyone. I rather shyly introduced myself, and we made small talk, each of us holding our glass of red wine. After just a short time, she mentioned that she should be going.
My face probably showed disappointment, and I looked into her eyes for a soulful moment. My heart jumped when she suggested that I walk her to her car. We were silent for the two-block walk, and when she unlocked her car, she said, "I'm glad you don't drink anything stronger than wine. It was more than a suggestion - it was a directive.
By that time I had begun to think of her as a goddess. She had penetrating eyes, and in the semi-darkness I approached her mouth with mine. For a brief moment I barely touched her puckered lips, and then pressed in more firmly.
