8 Feb 2019
The First Time
After so long chatting online...
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9 minute read
Against all odds work has summoned me to your town. We have chatted, flirted, sexted, cammed and swapped pics for ages but we have never met. We never expected to meet. The distance between seemed insurmountable. But, weirdly, my work is sending me to your area for three days. I will have a single evening to myself. I let you know but you are not sure you can get out of prior commitments in time to come and see me. I hope for the best.
Work puts me up in a shithole hotel. I text you. "Tomorrow any time after 4 or never. xoxo"
You text back, "I won't know until tomorrow after lunch. I'll let you know asap." You send a pic of you almost naked. Standing in front of a bedroom mirror I think. You wear that see-thru red bra and panties you know drives me wild. Your right hand is down inside your panties. I want to wank immediately but I also want to save everything for you if we meet.
The next 24 hours are almost unbearable. The thought of finally touching your skin, hearing your breath, tasting you... I have brought a bag of fun toys to play with you in case we can get together. I hear nothing from you while at work the next day. I assume you can't make it.
I get back to the hotel just before 4. I shower. As I'm drying I see a notification on my phone "See you soon." There is a knock at the hotel door. I wrap a towel around myself and go to open the door. It is you.
You wear straight street clothes. A white, pinstriped, front buttoned, sleeveless dress. Big dark sunglasses. And a fuck me smile.
I'm in a hotel towel, dripping wet.
In that instant, two alternate futures play out in my mind.
One, I grab you, throw you across the room to the bed, rip the buttons of your dress, tear off your underwear with my teeth and ravage you, unleashing a year's worth of pent up lust upon your flesh.
Two, something slower and far more delectable.
I smile slowly.
You go to speak. I put a finger to your lips to quieten you and take you by the arm and bring you inside. I close the door and lead you to sit on the bed. You go to speak again and again I quiet you with a finger on your lips. I nearly lose it. That touch of my finger on your lips. You haven't worn make up. Just the faint touch of your moist lips on my finger. I feel a burning coal of lust in the pit of my stomach. You go to remove my towel but I hold your hands aside and lie you gently back on the bed.
When you are lying back I remove your sunglasses and place my hand over your eyes. I move my mouth so close to your ear you can feel my lips move when I whisper, "Do you trust me?" You turn your head and try to look at me but I keep my hands across your eyes . "Just shake your head, yes or no," I whisper again. "You have your safe word."
We established safe words early on in our online adventures as a way of telling one another if either of us were pushing too hard.
You nod "Yes" that you do. "Lie back and keep your eyes closed," I tell you. You do. You only hear me rummaging about. A bag unzips, things move and brush against each other. I lower a blindfold around your head. Lambskin, soft, elastic around your head to keep it in place.
"Don't speak. Don't move."
You hear me toss my towel away. I kneel over your stomach. My legs either side of you. I reach for the first button on your dress. A large one. I don't count them all but I see that three of them will get me down to your belly button. I toy with the first one. You squirm a little. I undo the first and tug open your dress a little. It almost exposes your breasts but not quite. The hint of your nipples. You are not wearing a bra. I know you have done that for me. You don't know it but I am erect now. I undo your second button and pull open your dress further. Now your breasts are displayed for me. I overcome my urge to play with them and undo your third button, pull you dress further open, then the fourth and fifth... You aren't wearing knickers. Your soft skin so cleanly waxed, smooth and I want it. I want you. Then the last two button and your dress is entirely open and laid wide. You are naked before me in the flesh for the first time. I lean down across you. My chest against yours, but I hold my erection away from you. It doesn't touch your trembling skin. I whisper, "Do not move. Do you understand?" You nod agreement.
I get off you and you hear me rummage in the bag again.
You feel the trail of a coarse rope across your stomach. You tremble. It nearly tickles. Your anticipation is exquisite. I know it. I let the rope drag across your body so you can feel the snakelike promise of it. I lift your left arm and you feel the rope circle your wrist. I lower your hand out so your arm spreads wide. You feel me tie your left hand to the bed. Firmly. Securely. I do the same to your right. Your legs are together. I pull them apart abruptly. Tie your ankles to the other corners of the bed.
You are naked and spread-eagle on the bed. Everything is dark. No light comes in your blindfold. You reach with every sense you have beyond sight to guess what is happening, what is about to happen to you. You want me. Want my touch. Want release. Want my cock, my kiss, my arms squeezing you tight. My tongue.
I sit between your legs and stare at your pussy. This is the pussy I have seen 100 photos of, seen how it moves in small clips on my phone, I have dreamed of. It is everything and more. Soft lips falling to the side, inviting. A promise of wet, opening, enveloping, dissolution of consciousness. A promise I have desired since we first chatted. And here it is. A toy for my pleasure. Open for my taking. Delivered for my use. Your body writhes. Your head rolls side to side. You hear me take a photo. And another and more.
As much as I want your pussy, as many times as I have pleasured myself to the image of it, the thing I really want, the thing I have truly desired of yours, I am about to have.
I kneel across your body again. I lean down to your ear. I let my erection just graze your skin. I whisper seven short words. " I am going to fuck your mind."
For the next half hour I move strange sensations across your skin. Some you recognize, some you don't. A feather, a fingernail, a dangling piece of string, a block of ice, the tail of a leather flogger, the point of a razor sharp knife, a toothbrush, was that my tongue, was that my cock, a felt pen, I fill your belly button with a liquid, my chest hair, the pages of a book flipped across your nipple, a whole sheet swept across your body, sudden violent slams into the mattress next to you, your big toe in my mouth, a clothespin, my leather belt lightly slapped on your skin, the metal buckle dragged across you. Across your stomach, your chest, up and down your arms, your legs, your thighs, your inner thighs, so close, but not quite.
Your body squirms, writhes, struggles against the rope. You want to reach out and touch for yourself. You long to wrap yourself around me.
I can see the wetness build and dribble from your pussy. I know from your breathing and struggles how insanely turned on you are. It's not foreplay, it's close to torture. Your desire, your lust, your need takes over your every thought. Any sense of yourself has long since disappeared. All that is left of you is sexual need. You feel like you could cum if I would just... just say the words, just put my tongue in your ear, just put my hands on your and compel you, just release this incredible build up...
"I have to go out for a few minutes," I say to you. "I have to go get something for tomorrow. But someone is supposed to be coming by to drop off something I need. I'll be back in ten minutes but I need to leave the door open in case he comes by. Wait for me."
Jesus fucking christ. What?
You feel me get off the bed and you hear me getting dressed. You go to say something. I cut you off. "Shhhh. Not a word. Just surrender. It'll be okay."
Then just sound. The door. Opening and closing. Footsteps. Silence for what seems like ages. A knock. Your heart freezes. The door handle turning. You don't know what to do. The door closes again. Harshly. Someone is undressing fast. Butterflies run crazy in your tummy. Do you scream? Do you surrender? Do you trust me?
Someone jumps on the bed. You smell me and feel safe. Your body floods with relief and unexpected sudden arousal. A cock probes you. Pushing, trying to enter you. It slides in unexpectedly. Your wet cunt tries to draw it in to fill you. Your head arches back. Everything you have pulls against the ropes around your wrists and ankles. This cock slams home and pulls out and slams home and pulls out. You can't wrap your legs around me. Your can't grasp me in your arms. The only way your can surround me is with your cunt and you attack me with it.
Neither of us knows who cums first. It is shamanistic, raw, endless, something that defies civilized thought. Animal unrestrained fucking, restrained by lack of full movement. Torn between the two. You do not even feel the rope untied. You can't separate the reality of your hands on me and the desire of them to grab me. Still blindfolded, you see colours you have never known existed. When you cum, you nearly pass out. Almost slipping from conscious thought you hear "Good girl" and I whisper your name. And you hold me close, grasp me to you. I am still hard inside you although I have cum twice and my juice runs down out of you. Cold on your thigh. And we fall asleep.