parting One :

I know your name. I know where you live, what you do for a living, what you drive. I know what solid food are your preferent, what music you listen to, and what turns you on. I know you have a dog, for I heard him barking in the background the hold up time we spoke on the phone. I know you 're airless to your mother, and your father passed away 6 years ago.

We have had only 3 telephone calls after talking almost constantly over the cyberspace for the past 6 months. It has given my brain time to memorize the tones and cadences of your part : A medium-deep baritone that makes me flutter in pleasance every time I hear it, makes my torso look for all the things we have talked about doing to each early. ( You mainly doing thing to me, since you are the more dominant one. )

You have answered every question I have asked with an even, patient tincture ... save one : you will not say me what you look like.
When I asked you why, you said you prefer to last out mysterious in that department..I must admit, 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 social function : inkiness old-school combat boots, red and black striped socks that go just past my genu ; the rest of my legs are covered in black fishnet and disappear under my mordant, pleated canvas skirt that has a big ol'kilt pin piercing the side. ( A nod to my Celtic rootage )
This skirt is so inadequate that if I were to turn away over at all it would give the general public a enceinte prospect of what nature graced me with.

Above the bird is a opprobrious silky stays with straps, binding me and pushing up my breasts. I have just enough make up on to punctuate my fair-complected face, scattered with freckles and realize my puritanical oculus stand out. My long, red hair is up in a easy knotted bun.

I consider myself to be a switch. I can be dominant when the mood calls for it, especially with another female person. However, I must admit I am on the submissive side when it comes to men. I love strong, prevalent men. I love it when a man blazes a look into my eyes, grabs the back of my headspring and owns the kiss he gives me. I want to be teased, controlled and guided into bliss ....

The cadre phone chiming in my purse shock me out of my castle in Spain. It is you, sending me a message. As planned, I am in front of the dance club we agreed to meet at. I have arrived early enough to defecate myself feel despairing, over-eager, and pathetic. I am excited and nervous, and the thumping of the music from inside the club is matching beat for musical rhythm with my thudding nerve. I open my earpiece and stare at the message.

I am inside, waiting for you

My eyes out-of-doors wide in surprise. I thought you would cope with me outside the club..this puts me on border, since I do n't know what you look like. How am I supposed to recover you ? My inflammation and restiveness goes up a notch, as I realize this is part of a game, piece of your mystique.

Well ? What are you waiting for ? Get your ass in there and find him ! Do n't be a wuss ! chides the phonation in my nous. I square my articulatio humeri and walk through the entranceway of the club. I am immediately overwhelmed by the blank space. I have only been here once before, and it was a wilderness, drunken night with some ally I only half-remember ... and I certainly do n't remember it being so loudly, or so dark.

A slow, thumping dubstep reading of Nine in Nail 's `` Closer '' is echoing through the packed main room. There are couples elevated up in batting cage, and on the huge terpsichore storey a packed crowd gyrates to the metre. Bright, multicoloured lights are everywhere, the DJ a distant silhouette in the spine. Private tables and cubicle ring the perimeter of the club, and a back-lit glass and marble bar dominates the diametrical side.

I look around the room. There are hoi polloi of all kinds, though this lodge favors the quirky slope of the community..I see leather and PVC of all colors. Buckles, chain, catch and cat-o-nine tails. There 's a sparge of `` normal-looking '' people in here, but even they are dressed to kill.

There are respective hoi polloi who could possibly be you..but looking around, I just do n't screw. I decide to get a beverage while I am figuring things out, so I walk up to the bar. I am eyed by several citizenry, male and distaff, but this does n't devil me. As the barman ( a muscular, shirtless man wearing a choker ) sets my drink in social movement of me, he eyes me. `` You must be Rhea americana. ``

I almost inhale the inebriant I am drinking and stare back at him. `` Who 's asking ? ``
'' You did come in here to meet someone, did n't you ? ``
'' Well, yeah-um '' I stammer.
'' He has been expecting you. You 're to go in Private Room III. Do n't worry, your drinks have been taken care of, `` he waves away my effort at payment.
'' Um, OK..thanks, `` I say, and arrive at my way toward the back, past the restrooms and down a peg down corridor.

I arrive at a red door marked, PRIVATE elbow room tercet. My heart is thundering in my dresser, I am about to adjoin you face to face. Should I knock ? Of path not, pudden-head, says my brain. He said he is waiting for you !

I take a thick breathing spell, and unfold the door.

Part Two

The way, though tastefully furnished, seems to be empty-bellied. I look around. There are two lounge, one facing the other, each with their own side mesa. I cross to one of these and set down my potable. There is erotic art hanging on the paries, lots of cushions on the level, the couches..but no-one is here. I am confused. This was Private way Three, right ? I walk back to the door, open it and bet to affirm this was indeed the right-hand room, but before I can twist back around a silky blindfold, cool to the ghost is placed over my eyes. I make a surprised interference ; not a whimper, not quite a riot, but somewhere in between.
'' Shh, tranquillise down, '' croons a very familiar voice. It 's you, stealthy devil that you are. `` I 've got you, now, '' I can hear the grinning in your part. `` cum with me. ``

Still breathing heavily, I can feel myself being led back into the elbow room, guided to somewhere in the middle of it, if I have my presence correct. Any attempt to speak is cut off by you shushing me. `` Now, be a well footling sub and stick quiet. let me have a proper look at you. ``
Sub ? I think. I guess I 've been given my character in this. I sense you slowly circling me. I ca n't see your centre, but I can feel them all over me. I feel naked and unwrap, 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 impressed with you, so far, '' you say. I can experience you step in front of me, the scent of you mixed with your cologne heady in my nostril. You smell so just, and it 's making me light by the second. My hand are not bound, and I want to grab you and buss you ... but I sense that is not allowed.

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

You bend me over the redact, spreading my human foot apart with your own. I can feel you slide a hand up the back of my leg, over the inside of my thigh and between my legs.
'' Someone 's agitate, '' your finger slip my now wet panties aside, and you start rubbing my bare pussy from behind ... I start to take a breath grievous and moan. It does n't call for tenacious for your fingerbreadth to get slippery, and you thrust two fingers up into me, making me gasp in pleasure. I can finger my clitoris harden, my paries getting tighter. All this anticipation and pleasure is gon na make me amount, and I start bucking against your manus. I can feel your back talk on my ear, your hardened cock pressing up against my ass. `` You like that ? ``

'' Mmmmhmm, '' is all I can say. I am about to peak in orgasm, and your hand is quickly removed, leaving me hanging and gasping.
'' Not quite yet, '' you say, but I ca n't serve it. One of my hands is sliding down my step-in to finish what you so skillfully started ... and bounce roughly behind my vertebral column with the former. `` Naughty little girl, '' you chide.

The arduous chap across my ass is unexpected, and I gasp in surprisal. Then the sensation of stinging pain on my buttock, mixed with my throbbing pussy makes my head 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 clear it. `` Please, '' I beg.
The second crack ( on the other impertinence ) makes me moan even harder.

'' go around. '' Your voice is intemperate, commanding. `` Get on your knee, ''
I am being roughly pushed down and an New York minute later your hard peter fills my mouthpiece. You are retentive and girthy, and it is difficult to suck, but relaxing the muscleman in my pharynx helps. You have one hired man on the rachis of my straits, the former grips my arm. You thrust in and out of my backtalk, increasing the depth and the pace slowly. Just as I start feeling my jaw is going to disorder itself, you give a farsighted oink and your come fill my mouth. I have no choice but to bury, I do n't want it making a mess..and my female parent did always say that spitting was unladylike.
You remove your still-hard cock from my rima oris and I can feel you smile down at me.
'' good girl, ''