A quick stroke I pushed out for a friend's blog -- hence the female POV.
Hope you enjoy it, it was fun to do.
Send feedback if you've a mind to do so. It all helps with development.
GA -- Peterbough, UK -- 27th of May 2013.
*
The bar was heaving, exactly as I'd known it would be at half-six on a Friday evening in town. It was the after work crush, the time when everyone crowded into the place from all the office buildings round about, everyone enjoying the start of their weekend. In another hour or so it would be a ghost town, but I'd thought, when we made the arrangement, that it would be best to have our first face-to-face meeting somewhere busy. Anthony sounded like a decent guy; he came across as genuine on the internet -- but I suppose a serial killer has to be convincing. Not that I thought Anthony was a madman psycho, but it still made sense to be cautious.
After pausing for a moment with the glass door between me and the man I hoped would be my Daddy, a Sugardaddy who would look after me and treat me like his princess, I took a deep breath and went inside. I hoped Anthony would be the one who would protect me and hold me in his strong arms. I knew what I had to do to earn my Daddy's affection and the security that came with it, and, to be honest, I was looking forward to it. This meeting, the first time we laid eyes on each other was my big chance to impress. I didn't intend to blow it -- well, I didn't intend to blow the opportunity, but I was fully prepared to blow Anthony's cock.
And I was ready to do anything else he might fancy as well.
As it went I didn't have to look for him; he found me.
"Rebecca?" he mouthed as he materialised out of the crowd.
My heart skipped when I saw him, tall and good-looking, the skin at the corners of his eyes crinkling as he smiled at me. Anthony was perfect Sugardaddy material: immaculate suit that hinted at money; short-cropped hair, greying at the temples in a way that sets, in my mind anyway, the Daddies from the boys. His clothes fit well and he looked as though he was pretty fit under them, his shirt tucked in against a flat tummy.
Playing the game, I avoided Anthony's eyes and returned his smile with a shy look, a glance at him from the corner of my eye. I could feel the weight of his stare on my body, and I'll admit that I felt a little shiver run through me, a pulse of heat flaring between my legs.
I loved it when he took hold of my elbow and leaned in to speak to me. "Shall we have a drink in here?"
Instinct told me Anthony wanted to leave the bar. I guessed he didn't appreciate the hubbub and would prefer a more intimate setting. In an instant I made up my mind. "Could you take me somewhere quieter?"
His grin told me I'd done exactly the right thing, and I sensed Anthony was pleased that, in just six words, I'd passed the power to him. He would be the decision maker, the one to call the shots, and that's just how it should be for a Daddy and his princess.
"Absolutely," Anthony replied before steering me through the open door, his hand on the small of my back.
He took me to his flat, impressing me with his car. The throaty growl of the engine and the confident way in which Anthony drove had me squirming against the leather upholstery. He was turning out to be better than I'd hoped, obviously well-heeled and sophisticated to go with it, and I'd have been happy to hitch up my dress, bugger its expensive price tag -- if it tore it tore -- and open my legs for him right there and then.
"What do you think, Rebecca?" Anthony asked after showing me into the most luxurious apartment I'd ever been in.
"It's lovely," I breathed, truly meaning what I said. This was no act, I wasn't playing a game. Anthony's flat really was a work of art.
