When she said yes, you were ecstatic. it was what you wanted more than anything - to meet your Mistress in person, finally.
But tonight, as you drive to the airport to pick her up, the butterflies in your stomach are simply frantic. Part of you is so nervous it just wants you to go home, but the other half of you loves the anxiety. That part is so excited to see the woman you’ve given your will to, the woman with so much more power over you than even she realizes, the woman you ache to please. Your Mistress. Therefore, you only have one choice - one that she has skillfully narrowed your life down to - you must meet her.
As you park and lock your car, you smile to yourself, wondering what she will be like. All along, you’ve tried to keep from forming an image of her in your mind, to keep from raising any expectations. She has accepted you just as you are and though you’ve not met her in person, you know that you’re already in love with her.
She’s quite an enigma though, your Mistress. Most times she seems strong and sure of herself - guiding your pleasure and your actions. Yet sometimes she shows a weak side. She shows fear and confusion and great anxiety and she tell you to talk to her, so she can just listen to the sound of your voice and find her own solace. Sometimes it almost seems your roles are reversed but you accept it as her trust in you and another way that she gets her own desires fulfilled. You have no idea what to expect from her tonight. But you are willing to give her whatever she desires.
Your anticipation is overwhelming as you wait at the gate. How will she behave? Will she expect your submissiveness now or wait for an appropriate time? All along, you’ve retained a normal relationship, falling into your D/s roles easily and naturally when you both desired. Your natural rhythms seem always in sync.
There’s too much nervous energy in you to allow you to sit and wait. You pace back and forth, winding in and out of the other people waiting too.
Then lights shine through the huge plate glass window and you see they are lights from the gate reflecting off the huge metal bulk of the arriving plane. You know she’s out there and in a mere few minutes, you can touch her - if she allows - you can smell her, possibly kiss her. And hear that mellow, dusky voice coming from her lips, not through the impersonal earpiece of a phone.
As travelers being streaming out of the gate, you push forward. Your height makes that easy for you.
And down the hall, you see her. You know her right away because of the golden hair cascading around her, falling to her waist. She has a beautiful, soft face, clear, pale blue eyes that prove her to be a loving dreamer, (or a dreamy lover?), and a confidence in her step that is natural. It speaks volumes to you, despite all her protests to the contrary. It says that she knows who she is and accepts it and doesn’t much care what anyone else thinks about it.
She spots you now. Instantly, her face breaks into a warm, full smile - showing you no sign of doubt, hesitation or disappointment in you. If anything, it is a little hopeful. Your heart skips a few beats but you relax inside and step up to greet her.
Removing any uncertainty of yours, she opens her arms as she approaches, inviting your embrace. You return the smile and lead her to the side to let the other travelers pass. As she slides into your arms, you catch her personal scent - a clean mixture of soap and maybe a hint of a light perfume, but only a trace, leaving you wanting to sniff for it again to be sure.
She becomes a warm, cuddly armful, her arms hidden beneath a plain white sweat shirt go around you and hug you tightly - her clear, smiling face turns to the side and she presses it against your chest.
You hug her intensely, breathing in the fresh scent of her surprisingly baby-fine hair. Your hand becomes entangled in it as you crush her to your chest. You are more than a foot taller than she is.
And then she surprises you by turning her face up to yours and reaching up with both hands, placing a palm on each of your cheeks. Lightly, she brushes your lips with her own. You taste bubblegum and your heart smiles at this hint of childhood. Then the pressure increases and the kiss grows passionate. When you feel her tongue drawn across your lips, you are certain she can feel you growing hard against her. You accept her probing tongue into your mouth and can’t hold back sending yours exploring her mouth. You are both oblivious to the people around you.
Though there is a moment of disappointment, you let her go when she breaks the kiss.
“Hi,” she says simply, grinning.
Her voice takes your breath momentarily, but you laugh and say hi.
She looks pointedly at your crotch and then back up at your blushing face.
“I see you brought me a gift,” she observes, teasing you.
Her bluntness takes you off guard, but you know you should have been prepared for that. She is always that way.
“We both know who it already belongs to,” you tell her.
Without visibly moving a muscle in her face, her expression changes from one of open friendliness to one of confident lust. A flush moves up her neck to her cheeks.
“Yes, we do,” she says, her tone deep and whiskey-throated. “Let’s get out of this airport.”
“As you wish.”
She doesn’t ask you to carry her bag that she retrieves from the baggage carousel, but you get the feeling she expects no less. Is this because she fells her part as your Mistress or because she believes it is just something a man should do for a woman? You have the same question when she pauses for you to open the door to exit the building. It comes so natural to her that you know she is accustomed to it, but as a Mistress or as a woman?
You are easy together on the drive to your house, making casual small talk. She is open and friendly and you are amazed at how comfortable you feel with her. Is she deliberately putting you at ease?
“Well, this is it,” you say, stepping into your apartment, flicking on the light and holding the door for her.
She steps past you and looks around appraisingly, nodding her head.
“This is very nice,” she tells you approvingly. “Very comfortable.” She turns to watch you close the door. As soon as it shuts and you turn around, she says one word.
“Strip.”
You’ve become so complacent that this immediately surprises you and you hesitate.
“Now,” she says. You see that same lustful smile on her pretty face, underlayed by an expression that she expects no less than your complete obedience.
“Yes, Mistress,” you say, only a little bit nervously, but you give a worried look at the open front curtains. Anyone passing on the street will be able to look right in and see you.
The nervousness grows as you begin to peel away your clothes, laying them across the chair by the door until you stand completely naked before you.
Her smile is still in place but her eyes have become half-lidded - the look known as “bedroom eyes”. The erection that had subsided in the car begins to return now with quick twitches.
“Very nice,” she breathes in a whisper, coming closer to you. She circles you, letting her fingers trace around your stomach, your hip, the small of your back and to the other hip.
“You may continue doing whatever you like, I just wanted to be able to see all of my property.”
“Thank you, Mistress,” you reply. This was not anything you expected. You clear your throat and pick up her bag and carry on. “Um, will you prefer to sleep in my room or in a room by yourself?” you ask.
She pauses before she answers, then surprises you again. “Where would you like for me to sleep?” she asks. It’s not delivered I the same tone of voice a regular guest might use, but in a tone that seems to already know what your answer will be.
You smile and know that words are unnecessary. She follows you to your bedroom.
“I would like to see your toys,” she tells you. “I find myself in a growing mood to play.” Her smile is devilish. She knows what you will like.
After you put her bags out of the way, you hurry to pull open the nightstand’s deep drawer. Silently, you pull out each item and make a small pile on your bed. You feel your cock growing impossibly harder as you remember each time in the past months that you’ve used on of these items and called out her name at your grand release.
She comes up behind you, standing very close, examining the items on the bed. You are bent over slightly to dig in the drawer but you don’t think she’s interested in you at the moment.
However, you are wrong. Though she is studying your toys, she reaches with one small finger and traces it down the crack of your ass.
Her unexpected touch causes you to jump but it sends sparks of electric pleasure through your skin and a rash of goose bumps down your thighs. The hair on your legs stands up.
“Does my touch cause you such alarm?” she asks, a gentle teasing in her tone.
“No, Mistress, not at all,” you swear. “I just didn’t expect that.” You have turned around to answer her.
“Good,” she smiles, “But I believe for now I prefer the other view.” With reflexes like lightning and a strength you never expected, she grabs you and tosses you onto the bed, your face beside your pile of toys.
The position you are in has you bent over the bed, legs hanging off, torso stretched flat and your hard cock pressing into the soft comforter like warm flesh.
“Open your legs,” she commands, positioning herself between them. “I want a good look at you. Especially at his pussy I may want to penetrate later.”
You begin to speak but she demands your silence. “Only speak if I accidentally cause you pain or if I give you permission. Is that understood?”
