The Journey Begins 8

I had just finished my freshman year at The College of Willard & Marie and was looking forward to a couple of weeks of free time before returning to school for a summer internship. A classmate friend (actually my girlfriend) from Rhode Island had invited me to spend a long weekend with her and her family. Since this was my first solo trip to the New England area I made certain that I got to the airport early that Friday afternoon, made my way to the gate well ahead of time and planted myself in a seat away from much of the other awaiting passengers.

I had packed 'light' with just changes of underwear, a couple of t-shirts, another pair of jeans, my running gear (I was on the W&M cross-country team) and a book. The book was on my required reading list for the English Lit course I was taking in the fall semester -- DH Lawrence's

Sons and Lovers.

I had just opened it when I happened to notice a very attractive, stately looking woman who I guessed was probably in her 40s. She was dressed casually in a rather elegant sort of way with slacks and blouse that could have been tailor made for her. She exuded class and dignity and a single gray streak in her hair seemed to add a sense of elegance to her presence. Wow, I thought to myself, now that is one impressive looking woman. And returned to my book.

Time had come to board and I found myself looking around for the woman who had caught my eye but she was nowhere to be seen. Ah, well, I shrugged, boarded and made my way to my aisle seat midway down the cabin. I had just gotten settled and started reading again when I heard a soft but clear feminine voice 'I'm sorry to disturb you but I have the seat next to you.'

I immediately unbuckled and started to get up when she said 'Oh no -- don't get up -- I can squeeze by, if that's alright with you.' I looked up and it was the woman I had spied in the gate area. My heart skipped a beat and I stammered something that I'm sure was unintelligible but I hoped was in the affirmative.

She smiled and deftly brushed by me and slid into the seat next to mine. I returned to my reading and then I heard her say, oh so very softly 'Don't tell me, English Lit 101, yes?'

I turned, smiling and replied 'Yes, exactly...' but before I could ask how she knew, she offered her hand saying 'I'm Angela Wainwright; I teach.'

I stammered a bit but managed 'August Johnson, ma'am. Pleased to meet you.'

'Ma'am?' she replied with a furrowed brow, 'Please, you make me feel ancient!'

Blushing, I grasped her hand lightly and then noticed that on the index finger off her right hand was a black and silver ring with the symbol I had come to understand was the triskelion. One of my freshman courses (where I met Heather) had been a 1 semester hour 'filler' about the uses of symbolism in our daily lives. I actually took the course because word around the campus was that the course was an easy 'A' and that the prof, a woman, was amazingly hot. And word was spot on!! I did actually learn that the triskelion, Celtic in origin, had come to stand for many things over the years. One example in particular that the prof offered and that piqued my interest (and my 19 year-old hormones) was that some current practitioners of BDSM wore a black and silver version of it as a pendant or a ring. And that when worn as a ring, the wearer was either a Dominant or a submissive, depending on the hand on which it was worn. Those who identified as Dominant wore it on the right hand.

I gulped and was now in full on blush mode and didn't know where to go or what to say but before I could blurt out another gaff she lightly placed her hand on my forearm and said 'August, I was joking, I'm not at all offended and actually delighted to encounter a young man with manners.' She was looking me straight in the eye and I felt what I was certain was a bolt of lightning pass through me.

She went on to expand on her 'I teach' comment by disclosing that she was on the faculty of Beige University, was a PhD in English Literature and that Lawrence's work was always high on her list. She then looked me in the eye again and I felt that electricity only this time it was more than simply electric; it seemed erotic. And I could feel it -- Angela was in charge.

She asked where I was studying and, when I replied, complimented me on my choice of schools and offered that she had friends who were on the W&M faculty. There was an air of personal warmth almost to the point of intimacy in her tone and the way she kept looking into my eyes was actually disarming. And then we heard the Captain come on the intercom to report that we were backed up for departure and would be in the cue for a while.

Angela turned in her seat and said 'Well, it appears we're going to be here for a while, August, tell me about yourself. I like to get acquainted with my traveling companions.' There was now more than a touch of intimacy in her tone, almost as if she were trying to pick me up. The thought of sex with an older woman was more than a little interesting but, no, that couldn't possibly be the case.

I talked to her about my family, my life, my friends, my aspirations, goals and dreams. I couldn't believe how amazingly easy she was to talk to and how interested in me she seemed to be. And all the while she never stopped looking me in the eye.

And then my cell phone alerted -- a text from my girlfriend, Heather, in Rhode Island. Angela told me to check it out and I did. It seems Heather was not going to be able to meet me at the airport -- she and her family were being called away for a family emergency out of state but would be back late Sunday. She was leaving her classic '70 Ford Mustang in short term parking for me. The keys and directions to their home would be left with the attendant at the airline's First Class Lounge.

Angela asked if everything was alright. I explained to her what Heather had texted. The expression on Angela's face never changed but there seemed to be something different about the way she looked at me. I'm imagining things, I thought.

And then the Captain came on the intercom again announcing that they were number 3 for takeoff and then a pause. He continued 'Folks, we have just been advised that there is heavy weather moving into southern New England in about 90 minutes or so. A cold front is coming through and bringing with it potentially severe thunderstorms.'

Angela placed her right hand on my forearm again and said, softly but clearly 'I'm glad you have transportation, August. The alert I just received on my phone projects this to be quite the evening of thunderstorms.' Her voice was soft, yes, but there was an underlying tone of something more.

She then handed me her card with her personal mobile number written in pen on the back. 'Call me, August, if, for any reason you're in Southern New England and you need assistance with anything.' There was that softness to her voice but that underlying something. And then I realized what it was; it was the voice of authority.

Moments later we were in the air and then something happened -- it seemed as though Angela and I were alone. Of course we weren't but somehow it felt as though our seats on that plane were a special private place. Angela seemed to feel it as well or perhaps it was she who made it feel that way. It was because of that sensation that I mustered the courage to ask her a personal question.

'That ring you're wearing, I'm curious about it. Does it have any particular meaning?'

Angela's gaze seemed to become more intense and her smile somehow more 'knowing.'

'August, my ring symbolizes a genuinely special and unique way of living that is not commonly understood nor is it for everyone. It's much too involved and some would assert too intense for me to explain during a brief flight.' She then looked deeply into my eyes and I felt as if she were examining my soul. There was a force, a projection of power and strength and, yes, an allure in her look. It was at once chilling and enticing.

And then her expression appeared to change yet again. Her eyes seemed to become even more intense and piercing and her smile -- there was something about it. There seemed to be a force behind it and I felt myself begin to quiver.

She then placed her hand on my arm again, her smile softened and she leaned toward me so that her lips were almost touching my ear. She whispered 'It's alright, August, and it will be alright -- I understand.' And a feeling of warmth washed over me that I found both puzzling and reassuring. When she leaned back the look in her eye seemed to become penetrating.

And then the Captain announced that we were beginning our final approach to Providence T.F. Greene Airport. We both straightened in our seats and it seemed that a window that had just been opened had now closed. And then a feeling of disappointment, almost to the point of sadness, came over me and seemed to replace the feeling of warmth. I shrugged it off and readied myself for landing.

When we had landed, taxied to the gate and been given the okay to deplane, I stepped from the seat and turned to offer Angela passage from hers without having to deal with the rush of other passengers exiting. She was on the phone but looked up, nodded and ended the call.

As she brushed by me she said softly to me 'Let me speak with you a moment once we get beyond the gate, August."

Angela was waiting on the other side of the concourse looking somehow even more impressive and imposing now that I had actually met her. It was then that I noticed her amazing figure that her manner of dress and dignified carriage seemed to mask. When she saw me approaching she smiled warmly. 'There you are.' She made even the simplest of greetings seem ingratiating. And then I heard the first clap of thunder and it was loud.

'August, I'll be candid. I like you, I like your intellectual curiosity, your enthusiasm for life and most particularly, your commendable attitude. I believe that you have much potential. Whenever you are going to be up this way I would consider it a personal favor if you would call me. And for that matter, if anything comes up while you are here now and you need anything, anything at all, call me.' She was so nice and friendly and amazing that I felt a bit overwhelmed but I promised her that I would.

I made my way to the First Class Lounge and, sure enough, there were keys and directions to Heather's parents' home and a funny note from Heather along with a description of the Mustang. I put the envelope with the keys and directions in my carryon bag and then I heard the rain pouring down. I'd never been concerned about a little rain so I headed straight for short term parking. And when I exited the terminal I saw that it was a downpour. I jumped back inside and checked out weather on my phone; the rain wasn't going away anytime soon.

I thought for a moment and decided to brave the storm, run to the Mustang and head out. I spied the Mustang (it was red of course) on the far side of short-term parking -- thanks Heather -- and bolted across the lot. I was soaked in a matter of seconds but I got to the Mustang, grabbed the keys from my bag, unlocked the door and jumped in. I took a moment to catch my breath; that rain was cold and the wind was picking up and I was beginning to shiver.

I put the keys in the ignition but when I attempted to start it -- nothing. Not a whir, not a click, absolutely nothing. I thought for a moment -- maybe a loose wire. So I jumped out, popped the hood -- damn that rain was cold -- and checked the wires. All the connections seemed good but then it occurred to me that nothing on the dash illuminated when I turned the key. That battery was dead. Ugh. And I was getting drenched and then I saw that my bag which I had in my lap when I attempted to start the car had fallen out and, because I had left the bag unzipped, everything in my bag was getting wet. And I was indeed drenched and freezing cold and shivering badly.

Like an idiot I was standing in the rain with the hood up getting soaked to the skin and colder by the minute when a gun-metal gray Mercedes Coupe pulled up next to me. The passenger window rolled down partially and then I heard a familiar voice: 'August, car trouble?' It was Angela.

At this point I was shivering so violently that I could barely speak but managed a 'Y-Y-e-s-s'. She yelled over the rain 'Lock that thing up, grab your bag and get in.' I wanted to say no because I was so drenched and embarrassed but before I could Angela yelled: 'August, let's go.' I closed the hood, locked the Mustang, grabbed my bag and jumped in the front seat. I was shivering so badly that I could barely muster a stuttering 'Thank you.'

Angela did not reply because she was navigating the parking lot and then exited seemingly without paying anything. We were on a surface road and Angela could never be accused of being overly cautious -- we were flying.

She said to me as she hit the interstate on-ramp at Mach 2 'I'm taking you to my place. I don't want to try and find your friend's house in this storm. Besides you need to get out of those clothes before you get pneumonia.' I started to protest but she dismissed it with a soft but clear 'Shhhhhh'. I was freezing and shivering so badly I couldn't say anything and was so huddled into myself that I had no idea where we were going.

Before I knew it, we had pulled off the interstate and were traveling a surface road. Some time passed, I don't know how much, and then we pulled onto a driveway in a heavily wooded area and then we were in a garage. Angela slid effortlessly from behind the wheel and walked around to my side of the car. She opened the door, reached in, put her arm around my shoulder and helped me to my feet. 'We'll get your bag in a bit -- I need to get you inside where it is warm and get you out of those clothes. August -- you are sopping wet!!'

We entered her home from the garage and onto a tiled floor. She had me face her, took me by the shoulders and said 'August, look at me.' When I looked up she said. 'Take off your clothes or I'm going to take them off for you. You are drenched and shivering badly. I have a couple of bath towels here. And don't be bashful -- I've seen naked men before and you need to get out of those clothes.'

I was so wet and so cold I didn't have the will to resist. I started to take off my shirt but I was shivering so badly that I just couldn't. Angela didn't hesitate. She quickly but gently pulled my t-shirt over my head and handed me one of the towels. I wiped my face and then wrapped it around shoulders and before I knew what was happening Angela had unbuttoned my jeans and pulled them down to my thighs.

She then had me sit on a stool and then pulled off them off and then my briefs. She had me stand, grabbed the other towel and started drying my lower legs and worked her way up. I was shivering violently, was embarrassed and felt badly that I had put her to all of this trouble but when I started to speak Angela said: 'August, be still. Your job right now is to stand there while I dry you off.' And then she gently toweled off my ass and crotch. When she was done she wrapped the towel around my waist. I still had a towel over my shoulders and was shaking.

'Wait here,' said Angela. I couldn't have moved if I had wanted to. She returned in a matter of seconds with a blanket, removed both towels and wrapped me in it. She then put her arm around my shoulder and walked me through the kitchen, through an enormous great room and down a hallway.

'This is my guest room' she said and opened the door to a huge bedroom with a large bed. She turned back the covers, took the blanket off of me and had me slide in. I was still shivering violently. She tucked me in and then put a large comforter over me as well. She then whispered in my ear 'Your job now, August, is to rest and get warm.' I closed my eyes but I could not stop shaking.

I dozed off and had no idea how long I had been asleep but when I awakened, I was still shivering. And then I felt the covers being pulled back and I then felt warm terry cloth, a robe I thought wrapped around a woman's body, get under the covers. And then arms wrapped around me from behind and pulled me close. I started to say something and Angela whispered to me 'Shhhh, August, I need to get you warm. You've been in bed for over an hour and you are still shivering. Just relax and let the heat of my body wash over you.' And I relaxed and folded into her and the warmth washed over me. And she held me.

I dozed off again and had no idea how much time had passed but I slowly awakened to Angela still holding me close but instead of the feel of terry cloth I felt her bare breasts against my skin and her hand was low on my abdomen just above my pubic area. And then her left leg was draped over mine; and I became aroused. And then Angela whispered in my ear 'It's alright, August, and it will be alright. No one is going to harm you and no one is going to ask you to do anything that you don't want to do. All you have to do is just relax, keep warm and let your body tell you what it wants.'

And then I felt her left hand move down and brush my cock. And I groaned lightly and Angela whispered softly 'It's alright, August, it's alright' and her hand moved to my balls and she fondled them. And she kept talking to me reassuringly.

And she whispered in my ear 'Are you alright, sweet boy? Does this feel good?' And I managed to whisper 'Yes.'

And Angela said 'Such a good boy, such a good, good boy with such a big hard cock.' And her hand grasped my cock and I groaned. And Angela whispered 'Oh, what a lovely boy.'

.

And her leg moved around me and then she whispered: 'And you just made Angela happy, such a good boy,' and her left hand moved down to that place behind my balls and she rubbed it gently and then her right hand found my cock while her left hand was still in that place. And I uttered 'Oh my fucken God.' And Angela whispered in my ear 'Yes, yes, you like that don't you? Such a good boy. Do you want to be Angela's good boy, August?'

And I whispered hoarsely 'Oh yes, yes, I want to be your good boy. I want to be anything you want me to be.'

And Angela whispered in my ear 'Oh that makes Angela very happy, my good boy. And now, my good boy, you're going to make Angela even more happy. Would you like to do that?'

'Oh, yes, Angela, very badly.'

'What a good boy. I'm very proud of you, August.'

And then Angela told me to move toward the far side of the bed and I did. And then she moved to the center of the bed, laid on her back and spread her legs. And then she asked 'Have you ever gone down on a girl, August?' I had and said so. 'Good. Now Angela is going to teach you how Angela likes it when you go down on her.' Angela referring to herself in the third person seemed to carry an air of authority all its own and I found it extremely erotic.

I moved down between her legs and found that she was totally bare -- she was absolutely beautiful. And then Angela said: 'Open your mouth, August. Place your tongue in my pussy (I thought 'OMIGOD -- hearing her use the word 'pussy' is beyond hot.') and place your upper lip on the top of my pussy lip ('OMIGOD!!!!' I thought). Now slowly and gently close your mouth just enough so that your tongue is in my pussy and your upper lip rests on my pussy lip. DO NOT allow your teeth to touch me. That's it, my good boy. Now lick inside while you are sucking on the lips -- gently, August, gently.'

I did exactly what she told me to do (she was already drenched) and I heard her say 'That's it, nice, good, a little deeper with your tongue and more of me in your mouth, that's it. Now feel that little bump with your tongue? That's my clitoris -- focus on that -- lick and suck it -- gently. Good, excellent, keep it soft at first and then ever so slowly -- more.'