I had met Windy through a BDSM website, a new girl looking to learn about D/s, and her submissive side. After only a half-dozen chat sessions, we found we were very compatible, online. She followed directions quite capably, described her activities and her reactions very well, and had a great time doing as I directed. And she got wet like the proverbial waterfall when she got excited. And I seemed to get her excited.
But Windy needed real, she needed contact, she needed a physical relationship. I couldn't provide.
So one day, she disappeared. No messages, no explanation.
After a couple of weeks, a change on her online profile said she'd found someone to serve. I guessed I wasn't that someone.
I sent a simple "good luck and goodbye" message. Her handling of the situation wasn't so great, but her happiness was most important, and I couldn't provide all she needed.
Her reply indicated her embarrassment and shame at having disappeared that way, but there was no real reason to be overly upset. Wouldn't accomplish anything useful. So we became platonic online chat friends, as she was owned by another and my search continued.
I was her sounding board, her shoulder to cry on, through the ups and downs of her building relationship with her Dom, whom she calls "M". She was one of those successful women who'd gotten where she was by being what everyone needed her to be, strong, resourceful, decisive, and commanding. It was a difficult transition to being the sub of a very experienced Dom.
Then one day, she sent a message in chat..."M told you to ask whether you would like the opportunity to use me under his conditions." We'd talked, previously, about her Dom's teasing, saying her blowjob skills were just too good to be kept to himself. Perhaps he also felt she needed to have this particular experience to highlight her position...he could give her to anyone he wanted.
But he was a considerate owner, this first experience would be with someone she knew, someone she'd be pleased to serve, given permission--it was not something we were going to do without his acquiescence. She would enjoy the opportunity to demonstrate her skills to a muchly appreciative friend and confidant. And while she couldn't object to this if she didn't want to perform, I wasn't going to agree unless she was an enthusiastic participant. But if it happened, I planned to fully exploit the opportunity, which I knew to be a once-in-a-lifetime event.
My agreement with her owner placed few restrictions on our activities. None of the things that were prohibited were of any interest to me anyway, so there were essentially no constraints. And the agreement on those limits were between he and I, she was to enthusiastically and skillfully perform anything and everything I directed.
We arranged to meet at her apartment. Greeting me at her door, Windy seemed perfectly at ease as she opened the door with a smile. I merely stood, admiring. This was the chance to examine my prize, and I wasn't going to miss it. She fidgeted a bit as I continued my examination, asked me in again, offered me a drink. She was clearly destabilized by my immobility. But finally, as if there'd been no delay, I entered, and accepted her drink offer. When she arrived with it, I directed her to sit in a chair opposite the couch on which I sat. She sat there, wearing a particular light blue summer dress she'd worn during one of our online sessions...the one with a hundred little buttons down the front.
It was amazing, being able, finally, to examine this woman openly, directly, and as minutely as I wanted. And she wouldn't, couldn't object. We chatted for awhile, letting her get a little less anxious. We were good friends, with plenty we liked to talk about, D/s or not.
While I could have sat and examined her for a long time, I was ready to look with my hands. And, of course, I could. I'd never seen her before today except for a few very interesting, and tame, pictures. So after just a few minutes, I rose, walked to her side, continuing the conversation as if I hadn't moved.
As I reached her, my hand simply reached to her chest, caressing the top of her dress. It was packed tight, firm, and round with her D-cup tits. They felt fabulous, and while I wanted to see them with eyes and hands, it would be more fun to get to that point slowly.