His

I met with a Dom yesterday.

The plan was just to grab a quick cup of coffee.

He told me to wear a short skirt, so I picked something from my limited collection of slut wear.

He told me to arrive at 10:30, and that he’d arrive whenever the hell he felt like it, so I got downtown early and then sat on a bench, waiting until it was exactly 10:30 before I entered the cafe.

It was crowded; I chose a table wayyy in the back, the farthest away from potential eaves-droppers as humanly possible.

When he arrived, I noticed what a startling blue his eyes were. He asked me if I was okay; I said yes.

“Do you want something to drink?”

“Will you think I’m a child if I order lemonade?”

“Not at all. That’s what I drink too.”

He went and grabbed our drinks, then sat across from me and just looked at me for a minute. I felt my heart racing in my chest. I was kind of shocked that I was actually doing this.

We talked limits. We talked expectations. We talked availability.

He had told me in his last email that if I was interested, I had ten minutes to excuse myself to go to the washroom, take off my panties (which had better be wet), and hand them to him under the table. So I kept an eye on my phone, and before ten minutes were up, told him I had to go powder my nose. He smiled.

I removed my lacy pink thong, which was definitely wet, concealed it inside my fist, and once I was seated again, passed it to him as discreetly as possible. He slid it into his pocket, and we continued our conversation.

“I think I know everything I need to know,” he said after awhile. He looked at me, waiting for my decision. Would I go through with it?

“I’m yours. Do what you want with me,” I said shyly.

“Can I take you right now?”

“Yes.”

“I’m supposed to go to work, but you. . .are asking for it.”

Cue my trademark dirty smirk.

“Let’s go,” he said, and I followed him out of the cafe. We crossed the street to where he’d parked his green SUV with tinted windows.

“Get in the back seat,” he told me, and I obeyed.

He started the engine, turned on the air conditioning, and then climbed into the back with me.

I wondered if he was going to make me give him a blow-job in his car, in the middle of the downtown core.

“Lay down over my lap,” he commanded. I did it.

He pulled up my skirt, and gave me five or six hard spankings on my bare ass. He told me to sit up.

“Are you okay?,” he asked.

“Yes.”

“I’m not normally going to ask if you’re okay, so don’t get used to it.” He thought for a moment. “As a matter of fact,” he said, then threw me over his lap again, and gave me several more spankings. He got out of the car and went around to the front.

“Put your seat belt on,” he told me.

I did.

He drove for a few minutes, then when we arrived at the border to my neighbourhood, he told me to take off my seatbelt and crawl through to the front seat.

When I did, he pushed my legs open and ran his fingers over my pussy. I drew in a deep intake of air. “Wow, that is wet,” he said. He was right. I was literally soaked.

“What is that all about?”

“I’m just. . .really turned on,” I said, flushed.

“We’re going to have to get you a towel to sit on.” He was not kidding.

We drove for awhile, our conversation alternating between my sub responsibilities and getting-to-know-you talk.

Eventually he asked me to tell him about the previous encounters I’ve had from Adult Friend Finder. 

I nervously described each of them, not going into too many details but giving him the general gist of what had happened between me and the people I’ve met up with.

“Hmmm,” he said. “Well, I hate to tell you this, but it sounds like you’ve racked up a fair bit of punishment. And your husband isn’t doing it, so somebody has to.”

We pulled into the parking lot of the motel, and he went in and grabbed the keys. He asked me to bring our drinks, and I was so nervous that I forgot my sandals in the car and wound up walking up the steps to our room barefoot.

The next few hours were my intro to true kink.

He pushed me on the bed in such an effortless manner that I felt I was weightless. He made me strip and stand naked in front of him while he commented on my body. He laughed at the fact that I was literally dripping wet, then told me I was not allowed to drip anymore. He pinched and pulled and played with my nipples until I came. He fucked me and growled “You look at me when I’m fucking you”, made me deep-throat him until I learned to control my gag-reflex, made me cry, had me watch myself in the mirror while I sucked him, and bound me to each corner of the bed then worked me over with his tongue until I orgasmed again. He kissed my mouth but told me I was not allowed to kiss him back. He untied me and cuddled me, and then tied me back up again before leaving me on the bed.

I was afraid to ask him to untie me until I had to pee so bad that I had no other option. I was blind-folded–I had no idea where he was, or if he was even still in the room.

“Um, sir?” I called out.

“Yes?”

“Can I pee?”

He untied me and said “I should make you hold it.” I laughed and said that was probably not going to happen.

When he was done playing with me, he told me to take a shower. I got under the hot water and after a couple of minutes he jumped in with me. He shoved me against the wall, then pushed me to the ground and spanked my ass. Then he told me to turn around and take his cock in my mouth. I sucked him until he told me to stop.

We dried off and got dressed, and I looked for my panties for a moment before remembering that now they are his. As am I.


3 Comments on “His”

  1. thosebadshoes says:

    Holy shit, this is one of the hottest things I’ve read in a long while. I want one of him! You are so lucky.

  2. Adult Friend Finder–I’m telling ya… 😉

  3. […] He spanked me, which turned me on more than it hurt, and then he took me to a motel. You know the rest of the story. […]


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s