My head was pounding rhythmically against a car window on the side of the road in a state that was almost foreign to me. A set of fiery, intense blue eyes I'd only laid sight on in person not even an hour ago were staring at me while I screamed. I could hear cars passing us by, all anyone had to do was take a closer look to see what was going on and impose on this moment. I didn't care, all I cared about was right now; and I fucking loved it.
But I suppose I should start at the beginning.
It was something I said I would never do; hook up with someone I'd met online for sex. I mean sure, we said it was because we got along so well and had weird, quirky things in common and enjoyed each other's words and company. That was a lie even to ourselves. It was for sex.
To make matters worse, I couldn't just have found someone a few miles from me or even within a few hours drive for this clandestine affair. No, I was flying across 1700 miles, just shy of five hours for this. Was I hard up for sexual partners? Hardly. With long blonde hair, blue eyes and full, voluptuous curves one boyfriend delightfully called 'stacked like a plate of hot, fresh pancakes' all packed neatly onto a petite frame - I never went long without at least a friends with benefits.
After I boarded the flight, panic set in and I noticed my knees were shaking uncontrollably. What if this was a mistake? Or what if he wasn't who he said he was - or worse, took one look at me and decided he didn't like what he saw in person? At least I'd get a mini vacation and a shot glass with a peach on it out of the deal, right?
I'd dressed for the occasion; putting all my best assets on display, so to speak. The short, spaghetti strap sundress I wore was a thin, white filmy cotton. Thin enough that in the sunlight you could see straight through it, making out all the curves underneath; a white lacey shelf bra and a pretty matching white lace g-string. I thought it set off my fair features and lightly tanned skin quite nicely, and discreetly showed off my curves. Now I was questioning even that.
That was until I pulled up a few of our old messages and emails on my phone. It wasn't long before my cheeks felt warm and flushed with excitement and I could feel my nipples hardening and straining against the dress I wore.
Throughout the flight I kept dozing off, taking little naps to pass the time. I had vivid, detailed dreams; all of them were about fucking him, or watching his head between my thighs -taking him into my mouth and making him come for me. My clit was swollen and ached after those dreams, even trying to cross my legs while I sat was an unbearable act. All I could think about was riding his deliciously thick cock I'd seen in all those pictures and chats until I could barely walk, and then doing it again.
I got myself so turned on just thinking about it, that an hour before we landed I had to stuff my panties into my purse because they had gotten so wet. It took all my self control to not finger myself right there in the bathroom and get off- but I wanted to save it all for him. All the pent up excitement and sexual frustration was his anyway, he should get to reap the benefits of it.
When I got off the plane, the sexual excitement turned itself back into nerves and I followed the mass of people in front of me through the walkway, out into the area where people were greeting their loved ones. A woman in front of me threw herself into a man's arms; the kind of hug that suggested a long and loving relationship. Beside them an older man hugged two small children while a younger woman smiled at them fondly. All I was doing was looking around for the one face in this crowd I'd only ever seen on my computer screen.
But there he was; and he was grinning right at me. Butterflies filled my stomach and I willed my legs to walk in his direction confidently and not trip on something like a complete spaz and fuck the whole thing up in a matter of seconds.
He was definitely trying to play it cool, leaning up against a wall like he'd just been randomly hanging out in the airport for the afternoon with one leg propped casually up against it for support. His hands ran through his thick, blonde hair while he kept his grin intact and that's all it took. I wanted to throw my dress off right there in the concourse and tell him to claim me as his. But I didn't. I just grinned back and that's what we did for just a few seconds too long.
It was awkward and hot...like neither of us could believe it was real, or that this was really happening. If anyone was watching us, I have no idea what they thought about the two grinning idiots in the middle of an airport not saying a word.
"You're prettier than your pictures," he finally said with a chuckle, his eyes softened just a bit but I could hear the edge in his voice that told me he was just as nervous as me.
"Yeah? Thanks," I looked up at him, a warm blush filling my cheeks as I wondered when I'd get to feel his lips on my skin finally. "You're taller than I thought you'd be."
He laughed and broke his eye contact, "do you have any bags?"
I lifted the giant bag I'd lugged off the plane with me and shook my head no and I wondered what the hell was wrong with me. I'm normally really talkative and outgoing, aggressive almost. I never clam up around guys, I just couldn't think of anything normal to say to him. "I like your accent," I blurted out without thinking and almost immediately I could feel the rise of a hot blush turning my face red.
"Do you wanna go to get a drink then?" he laughed at me.
Drink? I thought for sure we'd be going straight to his place; maybe he didn't like what he saw after all? Or maybe he just needed to calm down like I definitely needed to.
We got in his car and he started what I hope would be a short drive, because a drink would surely help quell my nerves and not make me sit there next to him silent and awkward. . "Did you have a good flight and all?" he looked over at me while he drove. And then it hit me. All the thoughts I'd had, how turned on I'd been for days, weeks in anticipation of this trip. How I normally act and react to sexually charged situations washed over me and I reached into my purse, grinning wildly and fished out the tiny white panties and tossed them into his lap. "The fuck is that?" he laughed, picking them out of his lap to inspect what I'd tossed at him.
"I had to take them off halfway through the flight," I smirked, wondering how he'd reply. "They got too wet."
He looked at me incredulously, his mouth open slightly, "seriously?"
I unbuckled my seatbelt and turned to face him, spreading my legs and I lifted my dress just enough for a small peek at my smooth, shaved pussy. "See for yourself," I teased.
"Oh fuck," he groaned and shook his head, pulling the car into a small alcove off the side of the road.
I pressed my back against the passenger door, smiling wickedly at him, "come here."
He unbuckled his seat belt faster than humanly possible and dove across the seat towards me. Our lips crashed against each other's almost violently; his were soft and moist and I pushed my tongue into his mouth and slid it against his. There was no first kiss timidity and sweetness. There was no testing the waters and pretense; it was hungry and urgent, our tongues practically battling against each others for dominance.
My breath started to come out in stuttered, rapid pants and I grabbed at his biceps roughly, pulling him closer to me. "Oh my God, I've been waiting for this," I breathed into his mouth.
He drove his hands into my hair, fisting some of it tightly away from the scalp and he sucked my lower lip between his teeth. "Me too baby," he growled. "But you know I can't make it that easy for you. Tell me why I should give you want you want right now instead of making you wait."
"C'mon," I begged and slid my hand between us, letting it cup the growing bulge in his baggy, khaki shorts. "We can do all that later, I want it now."
It struck me right then and there that his initial hesitation hard worn off as well, and this was about to get serious, fast. It's not like I hadn't been expecting this - waiting for this, if you will. I knew this would be coming; his need to dominate and my need to bend to his will, either by force or by decision. God knows we'd shared enough about ourselves sexually, our turn-on's and fantasies and kinks. But for whatever reason I thought the first time would be a quick and dirty affair, getting all the pent up teasing we'd done over the course of a few months out of the way.
I couldn't have been more wrong.
His lip curled into a snarl and his eyes narrowed into dangerous slits that sent a vibration of pure fear through me, "we aren't doing a fucking thing I say we aren't. Get your hand off my dick and tell me why I should fuck you right now instead of taking you back to the hotel room I got for you and tying you up and having my way with you."
My words caught in my throat. I knew he was asking me a question, though it came out more as a statement. No, a demand. I searched my mind and found myself stammering and stumbling on my words, "be-because, um - because I've been waiting for so long and I know you want it too...and"
"Do I?" he chuckled under his breath. "I've been waiting too, but you don't see me throwing my boxers in your lap do you?" A deep red heat flushed across my cheeks and I bit my lip and shook my head no in response, feeling childish suddenly for my impatience. "Now," he sat back, letting go of my hair roughly and cocked an eyebrow at me, "knowing you, I probably should have been prepared." He laughed again with a menacing edge and began to unbuckle his belt, causing me to suck in my breath quietly. "Don't get too excited kitten, give me your wrists."
With an obedience I wasn't accustomed to, I stuck both arms out in front of myself. A less impulsive person probably would have asked more questions or said 'lets go get that drink.' But here I was, with a man I'd just met in person, 1700 miles from home, on the side of the road and in his car offering up my wrists to be bound; leaving me utterly helpless. I gulped loudly and watched him in silence while his stoic face studied his handiwork. Like some kind of bondage Boy Scout he'd fashioned a figure eight with his belt, my wrists now tightly encased in black leather and hanging above my head on the seat belt hook.
His fingertips toyed playfully with my knee before slowly and tortuously dragging up my inner thigh. My eyes darted everywhere, unable to find a friendly place to land. Everything about his face was hard. His eyes looked like cold steel, his lips a thin, hard line and his jaw set tense and unmoving - yet his fingers ever so gently flirted with the edge of my dress and breezed at the very tops of my inner thighs. I tried my best to not moan, to not shove my hips forward in a fruitless attempt to get more of his attention; instead I bit my lip painfully hard and curled my toes against the inside of my foot.
None of it went un-noticed by him, and a small smirk tilted the corners of his lips, "so where were we?" he mused under his breath. "I believe you needed to convince me why I should fuck you right now."
