role One :

I know your figure. I know where you live, what you do for a living, what you drive. I know what intellectual nourishment are your favorite, what music you listen to, and what turns you on. I know you have a dog, for I heard him barking in the backcloth the last meter we spoke on the headphone. I know you 're close to your mother, and your Father passed away 6 years ago.

We have had only 3 phone outcry after talking almost constantly over the internet for the preceding 6 calendar month. It has given my psyche prison term to memorise the flavour and measure of your articulation : A medium-deep baritone that makes me quiver in pleasance every time I hear it, makes my body anticipate all the things we have talked about doing to each other. ( You mainly doing thing to me, since you are the more rife one. )

You have answered every question I have asked with an even, affected role tone ... save one : you will not order me what you look like.
When I asked you why, you said you prefer to stay secret in that department..I must admit, the rarity is driving me insane. I have never been much for the blind date affair, but somehow this is different.

Despite the chilly, late-October air I am wearing an outfit I would never fag out for any other occasion : Black old-school combat bang, red and Joseph Black striped wind cone that go just past my knees ; the rest of my legs are covered in black fishing net and disappear under my black, plicate canvas skirt that has a big ol'kilt pin piercing the side. ( A nod to my Celtic roots )
This skirt is so shortly that if I were to bend over at all it would give the general public a great view of what nature graced me with.

Above the skirt is a bootleg silky corset with shoulder strap, binding me and pushing up my chest. I have just enough make up on to accent my fair-complected face, scattered with freckle and work my aristocratical middle stand out. My prospicient, red hair is up in a at large knotted bun.

I consider myself to be a electric switch. I can be dominant when the temper calls for it, especially with another female. However, I must admit I am on the submissive slope when it comes to men. I love potent, dominant men. I love it when a man blazes a look into my heart, grabs the back of my read/write head and owns the buss he gives me. I want to be teased, controlled and guided into bliss ....

The cell phone chiming in my purse jars me out of my daydream. It is you, sending me a content. As plan, I am in nominal head of the terpsichore club we agreed to run into at. I have arrived early enough to make myself feel dire, over-eager, and ridiculous. I am excited and uneasy, and the thump of the euphony from inside the clubhouse is matching cadence for beatnik with my thudding heart. I open my earpiece and stare at the message.

I am inside, waiting for you

My eyes candid all-embracing in surprise. I thought you would meet me outside the club..this puts me on edge, since I do n't lie with what you look like. How am I supposed to find you ? My excitement and nervousness goes up a mountain pass, as I realize this is part of a game, region of your mystique.

Well ? What are you waiting for ? Get your ass in there and bump him ! Do n't be a wuss ! chides the voice in my head. I square my berm and walk through the entry of the club. I am immediately overwhelmed by the seat. I have only been here once before, and it was a baseless, drunken night with some admirer I only half-remember ... and I certainly do n't think it being so loud, or so dark.

A slow, thumping dubstep variant of ennead Inch Nail 's `` finisher '' is echoing through the throng briny room. There are couples elevated up in cages, and on the huge terpsichore floor a packed crowd gyrates to the beat. Bright, piebald lights are everywhere, the DJ a upstage silhouette in the dorsum. Private tables and booths ring the margin of the night club, and a back-lit glassful and marble bar dominates the opposite side.

I look around the room. There are people of all kinds, though this club favors the kinky side of the community..I see leather and PVC of all vividness. warp, chains, collars and cat-o-nine tails. There 's a sprinkling of `` normal-looking '' multitude in here, but even they are dressed to kill.

There are several people who could possibly be you..but looking around, I just do n't have sex. I decide to get a drink while I am figuring matter out, so I walk up to the bar. I am eyed by several people, male person and female, but this does n't bother me. As the barman ( a muscular, shirtless man wearing a collar ) sets my potable in figurehead of me, he eyes me. `` You must be nandu. ``

I almost inhale the intoxicant I am drinking and stare back at him. `` Who 's asking ? ``
'' You did number in here to match person, did n't you ? ``
'' Well, yeah-um '' I stammer.
'' He has been expecting you. You 're to go in Private Room triplet. Do n't care, your drinkable have been taken upkeep of, `` he waves away my attempt at payment.
'' Um, OK..thanks, `` I say, and make up my way toward the back, past the restrooms and down a pin down corridor.

I arrive at a red threshold marked, secret ROOM tercet. My heart is thundering in my dresser, I am about to come across you face to face. Should I pick apart ? Of course not, stupid person, says my brain. He said he is waiting for you !

I take a deep breath, and open the door.

constituent Two

The elbow room, though tastefully furnished, seems to be empty. I look around. There are two couches, one facing the other, each with their own position table. I cross to one of these and set down my crapulence. There is titillating art hanging on the walls, lots of cushions on the floor, the couches..but no-one is here. I am confused. This was common soldier room trine, right ? I walk back to the room access, open it and look to substantiate this was indeed the right way, but before I can wrench back around a silky blindfold, sang-froid to the signature is placed over my center. I make a surprised noise ; not a whimper, not quite a scream, but somewhere in between.
'' Shh, quiet down, '' croons a very familiar vocalization. It 's you, stealthy devil that you are. `` I 've got you, now, '' I can get wind the smile in your interpreter. `` cum with me. ``

Still breathing heavily, I can finger myself being led back into the room, guided to somewhere in the middle of it, if I have my mien correct. Any endeavor to speak is cut off by you shushing me. `` Now, be a effective trivial sub and stay tranquillity. let me have a proper tone at you. ``
Sub ? I think. I guess I 've been given my role in this. I sense you slowly circling me. I ca n't see your optic, but I can experience them all over me. I feel naked and exhibit, but your voice is making my red silk step-in damp. You run a finger across the back of my neck, making me moan.
'' Very nice. I am impressed with you, so far, '' you say. I can feel you pace in movement of me, the perfume of you mixed with your Cologne heady in my nostril. You smell so goodness, and it 's making me debile by the second. My hands are not bound, and I want to grab you and osculate you ... but I sense that is not allowed.

You take my hired hand and lead me over to one side of the elbow room. `` Put your custody down in front of you, '' your voice has changed. This is a instruction, not a petition. I comply, and my fingers touch fabric. It is the back of one of the couches. `` Hmm, let me see what we have here, ''

You bend me over the couch, spreading my feet apart with your own. I can feel you slide a paw up the book binding of my leg, over the inside of my thigh and between my legs.
'' person 's delirious, '' your fingers slip my now wet panties aside, and you start rubbing my bare pussycat from behind ... I start to take a breath heavier and moan. It does n't take long for your digit to get slippery, and you thrust two fingerbreadth up into me, making me gasp in pleasure. I can feel my button harden, my walls getting tighter. All this anticipation and pleasure is gon na make me come, and I start bucking against your hand. I can feel your lips on my ear, your hardened putz pressing up against my ass. `` You like that ? ``

'' Mmmmhmm, '' is all I can say. I am about to top out in orgasm, and your manus is quickly removed, leaving me hanging and gasping.
'' Not quite yet, '' you say, but I ca n't help it. One of my hired hand is sliding down my panties to finish up what you so skillfully started ... and bound roughly behind my binding with the early. `` Naughty girl, '' you chide.

The hard crack across my ass is unexpected, and I gasp in surprise. Then the sensation of stinging hurting on my cheek, mixed with my throbbing twat makes my mental capacity want to explode. I have never felt this before and I absolutely love it.

'' Do it again, '' the whimper has escaped my brim before I can realize it. `` Please, '' I beg.
The arcsecond fracture ( on the other impudence ) makes me groan even harder.

'' Turn around. '' Your voice is hard, commanding. `` Get on your knees, ''
I am being roughly pushed down and an instant later your hard rooster fills my sassing. You are long and girthy, and it is hard to suck, but relaxing the muscles in my pharynx helps. You have one handwriting on the binding of my head, the former grips my arm. You thrust in and out of my mouth, increasing the depth and the pace slowly. Just as I start feeling my jaw is going to unhinge itself, you give a long oink and your come fills my sassing. I have no choice but to swallow, I do n't require it making a mess..and my mother did always say that spitting was unladylike.
You transfer your still-hard putz from my backtalk and I can feel you smile down at me.
'' goodness young lady, ''