I met her online. She had a profile that was both intelligent, yet with a spark of adventure. It had comments like I'm adventurous, willing to try new things, and looking to explore. Her interest as a submissive more than caught my eye, so I took the theme to heart when I wrote her.
Her response was what I had hoped for. It was reserved, yet with a bit of naughtiness, curious more than anything. Hesitant and unsure, but willing β and that is always the most attractive quality. She was like so many who wanted the freedom to explore new horizons without worrying about conventions or what her friends would think. So we agreed on some rules. That we would be lovers and nothing more, that she would follow my lead, and that the first no meant push just a bit further and the second no meant no.
We decided to meet for tea. When I arrived, it was at a French cafΓ© in downtown. A place near her apartment - elegant, proper and quiet. And she was waiting just as she said she would. Dressed in a white blouse with a tailored skirt; her red hair falling loose over her shoulders. I asked if I could sit down with a wry grin across my face, knowing who was truly in charge, and did so. And we began our conversation. It was strange because we already knew more about each other than either of us cared to admit. And this was just a formality to which we both submitted.
"Myself? I run a small ad agency," I told her, "and was simply looking for a playmate, to open up both their worlds to new experiences. I laughed, knowing I love nothing more than to explore and to push the boundaries. She told me about herself, and about her desires. I ensured she delved into all of them, telling me in a shy and somewhat shocked voice, worried about being overheard. I could tell she was aroused from it, from being pushed a bit. After sipping tea and finishing a small sandwich I suggested we wander back to her house. And we did.
It was a charming place, clean and nice with light streaming in from the windows. The furniture was meant for entertaining and followed the lines of simple sophistication. We entered. Quiet and unsure of what to do. I asked for a glass of wine. She smiled and went into her kitchen. And when she returned, I spoke.
"Why don't you open your blouse." It was more a request than a question and it shocked her a bit. She didn't smile or frown. She simply handed me the wine and began to unbutton. When she was about to pull it from her skirt, I stopped her, "No. Leave it in." Her skin was beautiful and her breasts were held by an elegant and very white brassiere. "Does it open in the front?" She nodded and unclasped it. And her breast almost fell out, freed of the constraint.