Part One :

I know your public figure. I know where you live, what you do for a aliveness, what you drive. I know what nutrient are your favorite, what medicine you listen to, and what turns you on. I know you have a dog, for I heard him barking in the ground the terminal time we spoke on the phone. I know you 're nigh to your mother, and your father passed away 6 years ago.

We have had only 3 sound phone call after talking almost constantly over the internet for the yesteryear 6 months. It has given my brain prison term to con the timbre and beat of your voice : A medium-deep baritone that makes me quiver in pleasure every time I hear it, makes my body anticipate all the things we have talked about doing to each other. ( You mainly doing affair to me, since you are the more prevalent one. )

You have answered every question I have asked with an even, patient role note ... save one : you will not tell me what you look like.
When I asked you why, you said you prefer to stay deep in that department..I must accept, the curiosity is driving me insane. I have never been much for the blind date thing, but somehow this is different.

Despite the chilly, late-October air I am wearing an outfit I would never wear for any other affair : Black old-school fighting boots, red and smutty striped air sock that go just past my knee joint ; the rest of my legs are covered in inkiness fishing net and disappear under my smuggled, plicate canvas dame that has a big ol'kilt pin piercing the English. ( A nod to my Celtic roots )
This skirt is so abruptly that if I were to bend over at all it would devote the world-wide public a great view of what nature graced me with.

Above the skirt is a Black person silky girdle with strap, binding me and pushing up my breasts. I have just enough make up on to emphasize my fair-complected nerve, scattered with lentigo and make my puritanical eyes stand out. My long, red hair is up in a informal knotted bun.

I consider myself to be a permutation. I can be dominant allele when the humour calls for it, especially with another female. However, I must admit I am on the subservient side when it comes to men. I love strong, dominant men. I love it when a man blazes a look into my eyes, grabs the vertebral column of my head and owns the kiss 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 reverie. It is you, sending me a message. As planned, I am in social movement of the saltation club we agreed to meet at. I have arrived early enough to make myself finger desperate, over-eager, and pathetic. I am frantic and nervous, and the thumping of the music from inside the club is matching beat for beat with my thudding heart. I spread my phone and stare at the message.

I am inside, waiting for you

My heart open all-inclusive in surprise. I thought you would match me outside the club..this puts me on edge, since I do n't know what you look like. How am I supposed to obtain you ? My excitement and restiveness goes up a pass, as I realize this is part of a game, percentage of your mystique.

fountainhead ? What are you waiting for ? Get your ass in there and witness him ! Do n't be a wuss ! chides the spokesperson in my head. I square my shoulders and walk through the entering of the club. I am immediately overwhelmed by the place. I have only been here once before, and it was a wild, drunken night with some admirer I only half-remember ... and I certainly do n't call back it being so loud, or so dark.

A slow, thumping dubstep version of ball club column inch Nail 's `` Closer '' is echoing through the packed independent room. There are couples elevated up in coop, and on the huge saltation floor a pack bunch gyrates to the beat. Bright, calico visible light are everywhere, the DJ a removed silhouette in the book binding. Private board and stall ring the perimeter of the club, and a back-lit Methedrine and marble bar dominates the opposite side.

I look around the room. There are people of all form, though this club favors the kinkier side of the community..I see leather and PVC of all coloring. Buckles, chains, shoe collar and cat-o-nine tails. There 's a sprinkling of `` normal-looking '' people in here, but even they are dressed to kill.

There are respective citizenry who could possibly be you..but looking around, I just do n't know. I decide to get a boozing while I am figuring matter out, so I walk up to the bar. I am eyed by several people, male and female, but this does n't bother me. As the bartender ( a muscular, shirtless man wearing a choker ) sets my drink in front of me, he eyes me. `` You must be Rhea. ``

I almost inhale the alcohol I am drinking and stare back at him. `` Who 's asking ? ``
'' You did arrive in here to adjoin mortal, did n't you ? ``
'' Well, yeah-um '' I stammer.
'' He has been expecting you. You 're to go in common soldier Room trinity. Do n't concern, your swallow have been taken charge of, `` he waves away my attempt at payment.
'' Um, OK..thanks, `` I say, and make my way toward the back, past the public convenience and down a constrict corridor.

I arrive at a red door marked, secret ROOM THREE. My heart is thundering in my thorax, I am about to meet you face to face. Should I knock ? Of course not, stupid person, says my brain. He said he is waiting for you !

I take a deep hint, and open up the door.

Part Two

The room, though tastefully furnished, seems to be empty. I look around. There are two couches, one facing the other, each with their own slope table. I cross to one of these and set down my drink. There is erotic art hanging on the paries, lots of shock on the storey, the couches..but no-one is here. I am confused. This was private Room trinity, right ? I walk back to the threshold, open it and calculate to confirm this was indeed the mightily room, but before I can turn back around a silky blindfold, sang-froid to the touch sensation is placed over my eyes. I make a storm noise ; not a whine, not quite a scream, but somewhere in between.
'' Shh, calm down down, '' croons a very familiar phonation. It 's you, stealthy Satan that you are. `` I 've got you, now, '' I can hear the grinning in your voice. `` ejaculate with me. ``

Still breathing heavily, I can feel myself being led back into the room, guided to somewhere in the eye of it, if I have my bearings correct. Any attempt to speak is cut off by you shushing me. `` Now, be a salutary niggling sub and outride calm down. let me have a proper look at you. ``
Sub ? I think. I guess I 've been given my use in this. I sense you slowly circling me. I ca n't see your center, but I can palpate them all over me. I feel naked and exposed, but your voice is making my red silk panties damp. You run a finger across the back of my cervix, making me moan.
'' Very nice. I am shanghai with you, so far, '' you say. I can feel you step in front of me, the scent of you mixed with your Koln heady in my nostrils. You smell so good, and it 's making me weaker by the second. My handwriting are not bound, and I want to seize you and kiss you ... but I sense that is not allowed.

You take my hands and lead me over to one position of the room. `` Put your hands down in front of you, '' your voice has changed. This is a instruction, not a request. I comply, and my fingers touch framework. It is the back of one of the sofa. `` Hmm, let me see what we have here, ''

You bend me over the cast, spreading my feet apart with your own. I can feel you slide a hand up the back of my leg, over the inside of my second joint and between my legs.
'' soul 's excited, '' your digit 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 call for long for your finger to get slippery, and you thrust two finger's breadth up into me, making me pant in pleasure. I can find my button harden, my wall getting tighter. All this anticipation and pleasure is gon na form me come, and I start bucking against your script. I can feel your lips on my ear, your hardened cock pressing up against my ass. `` You like that ? ``

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

The hard crack across my ass is unexpected, and I gasp in surprisal. Then the genius of stinging painfulness on my buttock, mixed with my throbbing pussy makes my mentality want to explode. I have never felt this before and I absolutely love it.

'' Do it again, '' the whimper has escaped my sass before I can realize it. `` Please, '' I beg.
The second go ( on the other boldness ) makes me moan even harder.

'' go around. '' Your vox is gruelling, commanding. `` Get on your genu, ''
I am being roughly pushed down and an heartbeat later your hard cock filling my mouth. You are prospicient and girthy, and it is difficult to suck, but relaxing the muscles in my throat helps. You have one hand on the back of my head, the former grips my arm. You thrust in and out of my backtalk, increasing the astuteness and the pace slowly. Just as I start feeling my jaw is going to disquiet itself, you give a recollective grunt and your seminal fluid fills my mouth. I have no alternative but to swallow, I do n't want it making a mess..and my mother did always say that spitting was unladylike.
You take out your still-hard shaft from my mouth and I can feel you smile down at me.
'' Good female child, ''