"Guess what?" I typed into my instant messenger.
"What?" I received instantly.
"I'm coming to NYC at the end of the month! Too bad I don't know someone who could show me around."
After a minute, I read, "Yeah, that is too bad. Sucks to be you, I guess. LOL! Oh, wait, wait: I do believe I know someone who might be available."
"Do you now?"
"Oh, yes. He's perfect for you: tall, dark, handsome, a native, AND good with a paddle."
My pussy flooded with desire at those words from my online lover. We had been together online for over a year and this would be our first chance at a face to face meeting. I would be traveling to New York with my husband, who had a series of meetings. It wasn't the ideal arrangement, but I didn't have any other reason to go. I had just learned that morning that I could accompany my husband and already I was a bundle of nerves.
John, my online lover, fed my need to be dominated and spanked. I had asked my husband to be more forceful with me, but he treated me like spun glass. He always had. It was so gloriously sweet when we were first married, but I was getting the proverbial seven year itch, and getting it bad. I had changed and my needs had changed.
I wanted—no, I needed—a lover to spank me and use me and force me. I wanted to feel excited and exciting. "Treasured" is lovely, of course, but sometimes I wanted "Dirty."
So, I went online. I didn't start out with the idea of finding a lover. I started out just reading some sexy stories. I found out lots of women must feel like I feel—there were so many stories! Then I found the forum. I created a name and started participating. I quickly found that I could be more open, more daring, or even shocking. It was an intoxicating feeling of freedom and I was soon hooked.
Somehow, I fell into an easy relationship with John. It didn't start out sexual, but as we emailed, IM'ed, and chatted we revealed more of ourselves and our desires. Soon it became obvious our sexual desires were two halves of the same whole. John was the missing piece of me.
He introduced me to all sorts of feelings, toys, and practices that I had never experienced before. He was an amazing lover—and all from a thousand miles away. Now, finally, we would have a chance to meet in person. I hoped that we would have the same chemistry in person as we did online.
The next month crawled by. John and I made our plans for meeting, but that still left most of the time to an excited anticipation of the event.
Finally, finally, my husband and I made our way to New York. We'd be there for a week, for his meetings. I'd probably never see him, except late at night. I knew I would have lots of time to see the sights—I was particularly interested in visiting the Metropolitan Museum of Art. After checking in to our hotel Monday morning, that's the first place I went.
John texted me to say he had taken Tuesday off at work and would spend the whole day with me. I was so excited: I can't even remember the paintings I went to look at!
I prepared a fake itinerary in case my husband asked any questions, but he was gone before I even got up that morning. I carefully prepared myself for my lover: a full shave of my legs and pussy and then dressing in the bra, panties, garter belt, and stockings that I had bought especially for the occasion. I slipped on the little black dress and my fuck-me heels, picked up my special bag, and headed out to meet John.
John and I had exchanged photos, but nothing prepared me for the impact of meeting my lover in person. I knew that he was tall, with dark hair and eyes, and a sexy air about him that showed even in his pictures. But the way his smile lit up the room and the way his eyes drew me to him and the way subtle smiles played across his lips—those things I didn't know. And they devastated me.
I remember nothing of the coffee shop we met in that morning. All I remember is heat. A burning, searing fire in my brain, my nipples, and my cunt. John fed that fire the whole time we were there—touching me, teasing me, kissing me. He sat next to me at a tiny table, knees and feet entwined. He rubbed small circles on the back of my hand then sprinkled feathery kisses on the inside of my wrist.
He slipped his hand under the table and laid it on my thigh. After a moment, he inched my skirt up my legs. I squirmed, but stopped when he told me to be still. He asked me, "Are we going to do this, or not?"
I nodded.
"Answer me," he quietly demanded.
"Yes, Sir." I responded quietly. "We are going to do this, Sir. Please, Sir?" A chill went down my spine as I realized I really was going to let this man fuck me any way he wanted to.
He went back to hiking my skirt up my legs. My bare thighs were showing above my stockings and everyone seated around us could see. I felt my face burning. John decided he'd teased me enough and he stood. He picked up both of our small bags, then held his hand out to me. When I stood he moved his hand to the small of my back, and then to my ass. We walked like that to the hotel where he had reserved a room.
I asked John why we didn't just go to his place, since he was single. He said it was too far out. We wouldn't have to waste time traveling this way. I accepted his answer. Based on the amount of time it had taken me to get to the Met from my hotel room, it seemed sensible.
He retrieved the door key and we headed to the elevator. At that time of day, we were the only ones in it. John immediately turned to me and kissed me on the lips. Our first real kiss. It was magical! It was passionate! It was everything I hoped it would be!
We stumbled to the room. John quickly swiped the key card then threw our bags on a chair. We attacked each other: his hands unzipping my dress, my hands pulling at the buttons on his shirt. I slipped out of my dress and panties. He watched me as he undressed, looking at me hungrily.
He said, "Babe, I've gotta be in you right now, no playing around. I've waited too long for this. I promise after this will be for you."
He stalked me backwards to the bed until I collapsed on it. He grabbed my legs and jerked me close to him. He set his cock at my warm, wet entrance, and pushed slowly all the way in. He stopped and groaned, "SO fucking good!"
He retreated then slid slowly in to the hilt again. He groaned again, "Too damn good!"
He pulled back out and pinched his cock for a moment. When he was able again, he started fucking me, fast and hard. This was what I wanted: a man so desirous of me that he can't control himself! He punished my pussy with the force of his fucking. The kind of fucking I wanted so bad. An orgasm quickly built and I was screaming out wordlessly, my pussy grabbing his cock. He screamed out, "Fuuuu!" and his cum jetted deep into my pussy.
After a minute, he scooped me up higher on the bed. He lay down beside me and petted me, cooing sweet nothings in my ear. He always did that when we were online, too—it was one of the things that kept me coming back to him.
The cocoon of pleasure he had woven around us lulled us both to sleep.
Some time later, I woke up. Or, I thought I woke up. I couldn't be sure as I couldn't see. I tried to swat away whatever it was obstructing my vision and realized I couldn't move my hands. I tried kicking. I couldn't move my feet either. I called out, a little scared, "John? John is that you?" No one answered though.
Suddenly I smelled the sharp tang of orange peel. Something cold and wet touched my lips, insisting to be let in. I opened my mouth and the expected orange slice slid in. I ate it, grateful for the cool juices. Another orange slice touched my lips and I opened my mouth for it eagerly. But no orange slice slid in. Instead I jerked as I felt the cool juices of the orange, I assume, drip down on my breast. That was followed by a warm mouth licking and sucking the juices away.
Next I heard the sound of a lighter being flicked, and the slight smell of burning. I jerked again, violently, when hot wax was dribbled over my tummy. I cried out and another orange slice was put in my mouth. I ate the orange slice as the wax cooled.
Next, I felt tickling on the soles of my feet. It was so light I wasn't sure if it was even there. I concentrated on determining what, if anything, was happening to my feet.
So I was startled by a finger softly investigating the folds of my pussy. My attention focused on that finger. I moaned and it was replaced with an ice cube. I shrieked with the shocking cold of it as it followed the path the finger had previously traced. My shrieks brought a hand down firmly on my mouth.
The ice cube was pushed into my cunt. I squirmed and wiggled, gasping with the cold, trying to dislodge the cube. I managed not to shriek, though, and the hand slowly moved down from my mouth to a breast. At first the hand just cupped my breast, allowing my nipple to brush against the palm as I tried to move away from the ice. But gradually the hand began squeezing; pleasantly firmly and then tighter and tighter until it was the hand I wished to get away from. A mouth descended on my other breast then, sucking sweetly. A tongue flicked gently back and forth across the tight nub of my nipple as the other breast was being held in a vice grip. The pleasure at one breast and the pain from the other confused my senses. I didn't know whether to moan in agony or ecstasy.
Suddenly the hand and the mouth were both gone. Relief and regret flooded me at the loss. As the throbbing in the mauled breast ebbed, a fire began to burn in the other. There must have been something in his mouth, I realized, as the heat scorched my nipple and aureole. I panted and huffed with the growing agony of the burn.
My senses were distracted just a bit as I felt the feather-light tickling on the bottoms of my feet again. I tried to shift my attention to the more pleasurable tickling and was grateful to find the burn receding as the tickling took over. I realized, as the tickling began to move up my legs, that it must actually be feathers. They danced across my skin, leaving me delightfully sensitized. Higher up my leg to my thighs the feathers danced. I began to anticipate their touch on my pussy. What would that feel like, I wondered. They'll get all wet, I thought, giggling.
The feathers spent an agonizingly short time teasing my pussy before they moved up. Tickling across my tummy made me squeal and giggle and try to get away again. But dancing across my breasts was delightfully teasing. I pushed my breasts up into the teasing feathers, but they moved on to my neck and face. When the feathers kissed my lips I smelled my arousal on them.
The kiss of the feathers was replaced by the kiss of two orange-sweet lips. I eagerly returned the kiss.
A hand cupped my mound, just resting there as we kissed. I pushed my hips up to try to increase contact with the hand. Fingers slowly traced up and down my pussy while the thumb started big circles around my engorged clit. The kiss ended as the fingers pushed into my wet hot core, one at a time. After three fingers were inserted, they began to fuck me. The thumb circled tighter around my clit.
I gasped with pleasure, only to find my mouth immediately filled with cock. The cock's movements matched the fingers' movements. I felt gloriously dirty and well-used being fucked in two of my holes simultaneously. As my orgasm approached, my mouth stilled as I focused on the thumb strumming my clit. The cock and the fingers increased to a furious pace. I arched off the bed, gagging on cock, but not caring.
I heard muffled sounds as the cock slipped from my throat. I inhaled deeply, gasping, while my pussy kept clenching. I felt hot wet cum splash my mouth and neck. I stuck my tongue out and licked up what I could reach.
