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Nis 03

A Chance Meeting

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Blonde

Out to lunch alone, nose buried in a book, I almost didn’t notice someone trying to get my attention.

“Uh, excuse me, miss?” He reached out with a gentle tap on my shoulder.

I jumped, squeaked, and immediately turned beet red as I looked up to meet startlingly blue eyes. He was tall, and had dark hair, greying at the temples. His face was covered with light stubble, his smile at my startling made his eyes crinkle delightfully in the corners.

I stammered, almost dropped my book in my soup and said, “Yes?”

“I couldn’t help but notice you were reading one of my favorite books. Also, you left your wallet at the register,” he added with a laugh as he handed the blue leather pocketbook over to me.

I smiled, looked down slightly, and said “Thank you. That is very kind of you. Most people wouldn’t do that.”

“I have a knack for finding lost things. Can I join you?”

I nearly choked on my own saliva. He was ridiculously hot. And he wanted to sit with me. What. The. Hell.

“Oh! Sure, if you’d like!” A nervous laugh bubbled up from my throat and I tried not to be too obvious in staring at him.

“So, you clearly have good taste in reading material, what else do you like to read?”

My nervousness dissipated as book chat flowed between us effortlessly, ebulliently. I let it slip that two of my favorite books were Henry and June and The Story of O and quickly moved on to fantasy books. I saw his eyebrows raise in a flicker and my stomach dropped, but he didn’t miss a beat, talking broadswords and knights like he knew how to role play. (I mean with medieval weaponry, obviously.)

I glanced at my watch and gasped. “Oh my goodness it’s way past my lunch hour! I need to get back to work. It was nice chatting!” I scooped up my stuff with one hand and went to wave goodbye in a panic with the other, when he grabbed my free hand gently and said “You know, I think we might have more in common than just books. Can I take you out later?”

Again, I flushed red, nodded, and gave him my phone number. “I’m free tomorrow night.”

I dressed modestly for the evening. Not that I had any choice, really. I only dress modestly. Cardigans, skirts, glasses – the whole librarian-esque nine yards. When you’ve got a DD chest, anything but a turtleneck gives you cleavage. Modest is your only hope for work appropriateness. On a hope, on a whim, I wore my black, push-up lace bra and no panties. Instead of mousy tights, black thigh highs, clipped up and held in place by a matching garter belt. Worst case scenario, saucy underthings give me the confidence I need to get through the night, right? Right.

I hailed a taxi and sped through the city to the tapas restaurant he wanted to meet at. It pulled up to the entrance, and I saw him standing on the sidewalk by the door, already waiting for me. Slowly, deliberately, I stepped out of the taxi and let my skirt slide up a little bit so that the lace top of the stocking peeked out a little bit. I looked up and his eyes were dark, locked on my legs, with something hungry in them.

Butterflies of fear and lust and desire danced through my stomach. It had been so long since I had felt this way. How intimidating, how unbelievably irresistible.

I walked up and awkwardly bursa escort waved hello, and in response, he smiled warmly and took me by the hand and led me in to the building. The salsa music was loud and patrons were talking even louder.

“I’m going to order for the two of us, I hope you don’t mind. Though, something tells me you are quite amenable to it.”

I smiled. “I usually like it when I don’t have to worry about things like that, and everybody’s happy with the outcome.”

“Ah, a people pleaser. A people pleaser who likes The Story of O. I bet you’d look beautiful with a leather collar around your throat.”

I flushed red across my cheeks and my chest. I smiled, almost defiantly. The game was on. “It’s been a very long time since I’ve done anything like that. Plus, I have to say I am quite picky about partners. I find that not everybody can inspire, ah, how do I put this? Obedience, I guess, in me?”

“I get a feeling from you that you’re stuck in your head, in your daydreams and books. I bet if your partner knew how to get in there, make space for obedience, for their commands and desires, you’d turn into an eager, willing little girl, wouldn’t you?” He tapped his fork for effect, punctuating the last few words of his sentence.

I felt my pussy get hot and wet and swollen all at once. Oh, fuck me. My cunt ached and I’d only known this man a few hours. God help me.

A little overcome, I could barely speak, so I just nodded, a pained look on my face.

“You need someone to give you a reason to be a very good girl, don’t you?”

I nodded again, and whispered “Yes”.

“Yes, what? And louder.”

“Yes, sir, please.” I said, swallowing hard, with a little more conviction in my voice.

“Tell me what you want, little girl.”

Another warm gush between my legs. I began to evade, shyly. “Well. I… Uh, hmm. How do I put this?”

“Go on. Tell me.”

“I want to be dominated. I want to be claimed, forcefully. I want to be owned and collared. I want to be spanked and gagged and cum on.” My eyes were wide, almost shocked at what I said. I was flushed pink from the humiliation of being made to say the filthy things I’ve always wanted aloud. Always thought, never spoken.

He smiled, wolflike, and murmured, “Good girl.”

Oh, how I wanted those things. Every word, truthful. My skin itched for the bite of a cane, I lusted after nipple clamps. I touched myself at night thinking about being bound and stuffed with cock. Even now, I think he knew just how badly I wanted it, how I wanted him.

I hardly noticed the bill being paid when he invited me to his place.

“Yes, please, please.” Just shy of a beg and he hadn’t even touched me yet. My tiny thread of self-control slipping away quicker and quicker.

Another taxi ride through the city, but this time his hand was firmly gripping my hair, whispering instructions in my ear. A secret just for me to hear.

“You are mine for tonight. You will do exactly as I say. You will be a good girl and you will be rewarded for your obedience. Before you are let in the loft you are to take your clothes off. You are mine and my pet will wear what I choose in the house.”

I nodded just to feel the pull of my head against bursa escort bayan his hand.

I could feel my wetness seeping through my panties when I stood on shaky legs getting out of the taxi. He grabbed me by the arm and led me inside, up to the 23rd floor. At the end of a long hallway, he stopped at door 2308 and unlocked it. He stepped inside, leaned against the frame, and looked at me with a cocked eyebrow, rather expectantly.

Fiercely, my eyes met his and did not stray as I shrugged off my cardigan and handed it to him. Button by button I undid my blouse, exposing the black lace and my full breasts. A click of a lock a few doors down made my pulse race.

“Keep going, baby girl. You know the rules.”

So stern. So fucking sexy.

A hip shimmy and the skirt fluttered to the doormat. His eyes widened at my naked pussy, neatly trimmed just that day. Another lock clicked undone and neighborly laughter filtered through the hall through their closed door. I took a step forward, in my bra and stockings, making a motion to enter.

He held a hand out in pause. “Ah, ah. I said take it all off. You can keep the stockings and garter belt. They please me.”

In a panic, listening to the neighbors prepare to leave their home, I fumbled with the bra clasp, unhooking it and pulling it away from my heavy breasts. I dropped it on the ground and stepped into the room, as the neighbors stepped out into the hall.

He brought in the rest of my clothes, closing the door behind him. “A little hasty, though you’re quite obedient nonetheless, aren’t you?”

“Yes, sir.” An unusual bit of pride welled in my chest.

“Bend over the couch. I told you, good girls get rewarded.”

Already, my head was filling with quiet. No longer concerned with anxiety or mundane tasks, he was filling me with calm, through commands and my own pliant, willing response. A response, which, in this case, was to bend forward over a plush couch, and stick my ass high in the air. I gave it a little wiggle for good measure.

“Tell me again what you want.”

I could barely remember what I said at the restaurant. “I want to be dominated.” He walked up behind me and ran his fingertips over the curve of my ass. I squirmed and my voice got huskier, quieter. “I want -” He spanked me once, hard. I bit my lip to keep from crying out in the last little threads of desire I had to maintain control. “I want to be claimed and -” Another spank. My voice quieter. Meeker. “Owned. I want to be owned, sir.”

He cupped my pussy, sliding a finger between the lips. “Judging by how much of a wet little tart you are, I think there’s more that you want.”

I whimpered. “Yes, sir. I want to be gagged and -” He slapped my other ass cheek twice in quick succession. I gasped out the trembling words, balancing on now trembling legs. “And… And spanked. And cum on. And fucked. I want you to fuck me.” The last few sentences tumbled out in a needy rush.

“I think you added something new at the end, but that will do, my darling.”

I could hear him slide his belt out of his pants, and he cracked it once. I jumped and he laughed, lightly trailing his hand down my back.

He withdrew slightly, and I could hear the belt whirring through the air, escort bursa and with a crack, it landed across both of my ass cheeks. I cried out, my pride erased in a second of blinding pain.

Not leaving any time for the sensation to subside, he hit me again and again. I buried my head in the cushions, gripping them for dear life as I moaned and whimpered, the start of tears burning my eyes.

I lost track of the lashes. I tried so hard to endure, but my poor little cheeks were sore and aching and I couldn’t help but try and squirm away. “Please, please,” I pleaded, unable to form more coherent words.

His hands trailed over the welts and bruises, the tender flesh so sensitive to the light touch. “Please, what?”

I cried out again, the sensation flooding my already frayed senses. “Please.” I said, endorphins flooding my mind, as I reached behind me for his hand, and clumsily placed it on my breast.

“Stand for me.” He said, rather quietly.

I stood up, and turned to face him, flushed, a blurry sort of lust in my eyes. Submissive desire, through and through. In that moment, I would have crawled over glass for his command. I would have worshipped him like a God if only he would have asked. I burned brightly, a fire lit inside me that consumed everything until all that was left was an aching “yes, please, more”.

“Open your mouth.”

I grabbed my wrists behind my back, sticking my chest out slightly, my nipples hard, parting my lips. He slipped a rubber bit gag between them and buckled it at the nape of my neck.

“My good girl. Back over the couch.”

Obediently, I turned and bent over the couch, sticking my bright red ass in the air again. The saliva dripped down my chin from the gag. I heard rustling and a zip from behind me.

Without warning, he shoved his cock inside me and I moaned deeply. He was big, bigger than I was used to, certainly. He filled every last inch of me, satisfying that deep ache I had between my legs since the night began. I heard him mutter “oh fuck” as he began to thrust into me slowly, giving my body time to accommodate his generous girth.

Through the gag, I begged, I pleaded. Please. More. More, please. Don’t stop. Fuck me. Please fuck me. Please. Oh god, please.

He slipped easily in and out of me, my wetness slick down my thighs, increasing his pace at my incoherent urging and his obvious need. I reached between my legs and flicked my clit back and forth, getting closer and closer to orgasm as he pounded in to me from behind. Forceful, deep thrusts that pressed my thighs against the back of the sofa, and bounced my tits back and forth.

He grabbed the strap of the gag roughly, arching my back towards him, saying “You are mine. Come, come for me. Be a good girl and come for me.”

In my masochistic bliss, all I could do was moan and smile. I tried to keep his pace with my own hips, pressing back against him at the deepest point of his hard strokes inside me, but lost out to his frenetic rhythm and my fingers on my clit. I tightened around him suddenly, crying out, lost to waves of pleasure, jerking my hips uncontrollably.

He pulled out, and with a groan, spilled his hot, white cum on my bruised and welted ass. Delicately, he rubbed it into my skin.

He led me to lay down on the sofa, where he enveloped me in his arms, more tenderly than I honestly would have expected. He kissed me on the forehead and said with a smile “We’ll get you a collar on our second date.”

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