I stepped out of his limo in front of his house, though I guess house wasn't really the word to describe it. More like mansion. I knew he had money, but I didn't think he was this wealthy, though I guess I should have since the house, ok, mansion, was in the Hamptons.
The driver handed me my small suitcase and I started towards the front doors, terrified of what I was about to do. I'd never considered myself to be the kind of girl to do something like this, but I discovered that it really made me feel good, so much better than what I had expected.
I took my phone out of my coat pocket and checked the time: 7 on the dot. The exact time he had told me to be there. That driver was good. My strappy, gold heels clicked on the pavement as I walked. He had told me to dress professionally, so I had, but tried to stay sexy at the same time. I wore a black blouse that I buttoned only slightly past my cleavage and a tight navy skirt that went to my knees and showed off my leg muscles. A gold belt went around my waist that matched my long blonde hair. I stood in front of the door and took a deep breath, my knees starting to shake from nervousness, and knocked.
He opened the door and was just as handsome as I remembered him from our first meeting at Starbucks a few days ago. Tall, dark wavy hair, and blue eyes. "Hello, Aimee. It's nice to see you again," he says in his deep voice. He opens the door all the way, beckoning me in. "Thank you. It's nice to see you again too," I say with a smile, hoping my nerves aren't too obvious.
I step into the massive foyer and he says, "You can leave your bag right there. We'll take it upstairs later if you need it." I set my bags off to the side of the foyer and put my coat on the coatrack. As I'm marveling at the beauty of the place, I don't hear him shut the door. He turns to me and says, "Come with me," offering his arm. I walk over to him and loop my arm through his, letting him lead me into a room to the left of the front door, which has a large fireplace and leather furniture.
He is Kyle Martin, the 26 year old co-owner of a successful stock broking company. We met online in a chat group and had our first date a few days ago, when he invited me to come here. "By the way, I love your choice of clothing," he says with a wink, putting me more at ease now that I know I pleased him in that department. He leads me over to one of the sofas and sits, motioning for me to do the same. In front of us on a coffee table is a small stack of papers and a pen. He picks up the papers and hands them to me. "This is a temporary contract to last us this week. It outlines the basics: what's expected of you, punishments, and limits. If you decide to stay longer than that, I'll have a more permanent contract that we'll go over. Read that over and ask any questions or tell me if you would like to add anything."
I nod and look over the contract. I'm always expected to call him "Sir" and I'm expected to follow whatever commands he gives me. He will punish me in the way he deems fit for the infraction, but it will never be anything that will leave me with permanent marks. Permanent marks? We both had the right to terminate the arrangement if we feel it isn't working. His hard limits included pee, scat, fire play, blood play, and playing under the influence of drugs or alcohol. When I saw the next section I asked, "What's a soft limit?"
"A soft limit is something that might not necessarily like or that you might be hesitant about doing, but you're willing to explore," Kyle responded.
He didn't have anything under that, but then I got an idea. "Could we put anal sex under soft limits?" I asked.
"Of course. I remembered you saying that anal wasn't your favorite type of sex, so I had been planning on asking you, actually," he replied. He took the contract and the pen and wrote "Anal Sex" under the "Soft Limits" header. "If you decide you want to add anything else to your limits this week, we can. This is your week to explore. After the first week, 'No' is not a word I accept from my submissives," Kyle says and hands the contract back to me.
The last section was "Safe Words". If anything ever started hurting, feeling uncomfortable, or was pushing my limits too far, I'm to say "penny". If I were gagged, he would put a penny in my hand and I'm to drop it. I wondered why we would need such a word, but thought that it was a good idea. Below that were the signature lines, one for the dominant, and one for the submissive. I picked up the pen, but before I could sign, Kyle's hand was stopping mine. "I want you to fully realize what you're about to do. Signing this means you're agreeing to be mine for the week. That you're letting me do whatever I want to you for a week. You're sure you still want to do this?"
"I'm sure," I tell him and he removes his hand. Despite my nervousness, I sign and hand the contract to him. He signs as well. "Good," he says and puts the contract on the table. He leans back on the couch with his hands behind his head. "Stand and strip."
"Yes, Sir," is my reply and I quickly stand. I start with my top and slowly unbutton it all the way down, sliding it off my shoulders and folding it neatly on the couch. I then step out of my heels and slide my skirt down, folding it with my shirt, leaving me standing in my favorite teal lace bra and panties. I can feel his eyes roaming over my body and I feel the need to impress him, so I stand up straighter and bring my shoulders back a little bit, effectively pushing out my C-size breasts. "My, do you know how to make an impression," Kyle says as he stands and moves in front of me, tucking a few stray blonde hairs from my ponytail behind my ear, the touch making me relax a bit and coaxing a smile. "There we go," he says, now also smiling. "Now let's see the rest of you." He reaches behind me and unclasps my bra, easing the straps over my shoulders and discarding it on top of the rest of my clothes, revealing my already hard nipples.
"Turn around." I do and he steps just behind me, his suit pressing into my bare back. The feeling of him fully clothed and me wearing almost nothing is so arousing. He starts rubbing my arms up and down, lowering his head down and whispering in my ear, "You are so beautiful." All I can do is moan as his hands move from my arms to my breasts, kneading and massaging them. His head tips down and he starts nuzzling my hair with his nose, inhaling the scent of my strawberry shampoo. His fingers nimbly start circling my nipples, making them form into hard pebbles. I let out a soft moan and lean back into him slightly as he lightly pinches them and starts kissing my neck. I can feel myself getting more turned on and wet by the second.
I can feel a hard bulge pressing into my lower back, growing bigger, which turns me on even more. His right hand travels from my breast down to the top of my panties. He plays with the top of them for a bit, all the while kissing my neck and playing with my left nipple. His right hand drifts down farther until his fingers are trailing up and down my slit. I'm sure my panties must be damp by now. "Take them off," he whispers deeply in my ear, sending a thrill down to my center. I quickly obey and slide my panties down my legs and discard them to the side.
"Good girl," he says, causing another bolt of excitement to run through me. His left hand continues to grope my breast, now pinching a little harder, and his right hand begins to caress my bare, shaved pussy, causing me to melt into him a little bit and let out a soft moan. He starts circling my clit with his fingers, making me gasp and sending spikes of pleasure through my body. "I have one very important rule," Kyle says as he torments my nipple and clit, "and that is that you may never cum without my permission. Understand?"
"Yes, Sir," I say, moaning and arching my back against him, feeling his hard bulge in my lower back. I can feel my pleasure building as his ministrations increase in pressure and speed. My hips involuntarily start jerking as the pressure keeps building and I can feel myself getting close. Remembering what he said, I murmur, "Please, Sir, may I cum?"
