I sit on my stool at the bar, twirling my glass nervously as I wait. My heart is racing as I anticipate your arrival. I can't believe it's tonight. After weeks of chatting online and exchanging photos and videos, we've finally decided to meet in person.
We chose a hotel between our two places, and we're meeting in the bar before our dinner reservation. I've been ready for a while, so I came to the bar a little early, deciding to have a drink beforehand to calm my nerves.
I'm wearing a tight black pencil skirt that fits snugly around my hips and falls to just above my knees. My top is a deep purple sheer button up with a black lacy camisole underneath. Sexy but proper, as ever. My legs are covered in those black stockings I know you love, and I've got on my tallest black stilettos.
I uncross and recross my legs, squirming a little in my stool. I've got a surprise for you, and I'm getting so turned on thinking about how you'll react to my little secret. As it has countless times since we began chatting, your words and videos replay over and over in my mind, making me so hot I can already feel myself dripping for you.
I check my phone again for the thousandth time, always looking for a message from you. It's getting close to our reservation, so I know you'll be here any minute. Looking at my reflection in the phone screen, I do one final check of my lipstick. Red, just for you.
Just as I put my phone down, I notice the bartender sliding another cosmopolitan my way. "I'm sorry, but I didn't order th--"
Suddenly, your voice is in my ear, and I feel your hand at the small of my back.
"Hey, sexy. You look like you could use another drink."
My breath catches in my throat, and my heart is beating out of my chest. You sound even sexier in person.
"Hi," I breathe.
You're still standing behind me, now running your nose along my neck beneath my ear. You inhale deeply. "Fuck, baby. You smell so fucking good."
I squirm slightly on my stool, completely turned on by the feeling of your breath on my skin and your voice in my ear. Keeping your hand on the small of my back, you finally slide in next to me and settle in at the bar. You scoot your stool as close to mine as you can, our legs touching as we sit close.
"I was watching you for a few minutes before I came over," you say.
"You were?"
"Yeah. I just had to look at you for a bit. You look incredible. I can't believe we're finally doing this."
"I know," I reply. "You're not so bad yourself, handsome," I say while looking into your eyes. I lick my lips and slowly pick up my drink for a sip, feeling your eyes roaming over my face and lingering on my lips.
"I love the stockings, baby. Did you wear these for me?" you ask, putting your hand on my knee, very softly caressing my crossed legs.
"Yes," I answer. "I know how much you like them."
"Mmm, good girl," you breathe in my ear, grabbing my knee and pulling my legs apart, uncrossing them. "Got anything else under that sexy skirt for me?"
"Yes," I breathe. I adjust my legs, opening them up a little for your hand. You're about to discover my surprise, and I'm practically panting in anticipation. The bar is dimly lit, and it's pretty crowded, but there's a chance someone might see, and the idea is incredibly erotic.
"Let's see what you've got for me, baby," you say as you slowly begin to inch your hand up my skirt. "I fucking love these stockings..." Your eyes get wide, and your hand stops once you find my surprise. The clips at the top of my thigh highs give away my secret.
"Fuck. You're wearing garters? That's so fucking sexy," you growl into my ear, inching your hand even higher up my thighs, stretching my skirt tighter against me. "Let's just see what else you've got under here for me."
I simply stare into your eyes, breathing hard in anticipation of what you'll discover next. Another surprise for you.
Your eyes widen as you feel my wetness against your fingers. I'm not wearing any panties--only my garter belt and stockings, and I'm already soaked for you.
Suddenly, you pull your hand out of my skirt and throw cash down onto the bar. "Let's go," you growl.
"But what about our table?" I ask, gathering my bag and standing up, smoothing my skirt over my legs.