"Whew." Deep breaths. Nerves. Excitement. Worry. What will she be like? How will I be? Will she like me still? Will she be as great in person? Will conversation in person be awkward.
Parking the car on an Atlanta street. Paying the meter. Crossing the street with a stride that says, "I'm cool, I've got this," while my heart races. I walk across the street, and eye the door of the Irish pub. She's here already, I hope she hasn't been waiting long. How will she react when she sees me? Squealing? Hugging? Quietly saying hi?
The door opens, and I see her across the restaurant. Long black hair. Black dress. I casually walk up, like we're there for a business lunch. We're not. We both know this. She looks up, and our eyes meet.
"Hey," I say. Trying to keep my voice from cracking like a teenage boy.
"Hi," she responds. We hug, quickly, but firmly. Then we sit. We order drinks. We make idle small talk about drinks. We decide on food. Just an appetizer. Neither of us are really here to eat anyway. The drinks are just to loosen us up. As we talk about menial things--watches, the drive, running--my mind races to the late night texts, the mid day phone calls.
A few months before, accidentally, innocently, we began talking. Having met online, our discussion centered around running and triathlon and weight loss. That quickly turned to more. Both of us in marriages that were toxic, both of us hurting and deprived of the love and affection we craved. Yet, we didn't know this at first. Time went on, conversations grew deeper, and feelings developed. Flirty jokes turned to flirty play.
Little did we know that our situations would be so similar. But neither did we realize that our sexualities would be so complementary. She is a submissive, and I a dominant, and over the course of a few months, she began to affectionately call me "Daddy," and I called her "Baby Girl." When the opportunity arose to meet, we both jumped. Her, driving a few hours mid week, me driving out of the way on a road trip, we find ourselves here, at this pub, eating hummus and drinking beer and wine. The months of talking and flirting and sexting have led us here.
I pay, and we head out. Both of us still acting casual as we walk to our cars. We look at my bike, and discuss how we are going to get to our ultimate destination--a place named Tokyo Valentino, where we could rent a bed in an upstairs room. We talked as if we were going to ride together to the mall, deciding to both drive over.
The ride is nerve wracking again. Lunch went well. She was as wonderful in person as I imagined, and conversation was just as easy. But what would happen here? Would we hang out? Would we fool around? Would we fuck? Would we get kinky?
We pull in and meet again. As we walk in, we take note of the nature of where we are. Neither of us have done THIS before--going to a random place where you can pay for a room. We've read the reviews--glory holes, beds, porn viewing. As we get inside, we see the glory hole booths. Men are standing around, watching us awkwardly, and we have no idea how this works. We hold onto each other, nervous and interested. We finally make our way upstairs, to our room, lock the door, and feel alone.
The room is small, and the "bed" is essentially a large, leather ottoman. It smells clean, thankfully, and there are men on each floor with cleaning supplies, waiting to clean after a couple finishes. My nerves are high, and I'm not sure what I'm feeling. The mixture of emotions, desire, fear, confusion are all there, leaving my head spinning. She quietly turns around, and in her sweet little voice says, "here, help me with my dress."
Fumbling, I whisper, "fuck." I laugh, and keep trying to undo the button at the top of her dress. For what feels like several minutes, Daddy's fat fingers struggle to get Baby Girl's dress undone. She laughs, and I laugh. Finally releasing the clasp, lifting her dress up, admiring this little woman in front of me. She's rubbing my cock, and my hands move down her chest.
I see red, lacy panties. "I thought Daddy told you 'no panties,' little girl?" I whisper in her hear.
"I know, but I wanted to wear something pretty for Daddy."
"I will deal with this indiscretion later. Did you obey the rest of my orders?" She leans forward and spreads her ass cheeks, showing me the pretty gem on her buttplug. "Good little girl," I tell her, as she has been wearing the butt plug I told her to, for about 7 hours now.
She turns around, telling me to have a seat. I stare at her, and she turns to sit in Daddy's lap, grinding on me for a minute. I'm enjoying, and ready to see where this goes. She whispers to lie back, and I do, as she begins to remove my boxers. My cock springs free, and my mind still wonders what's going to happen, how is this going down?
I want to lay my head back and relax, but I want to watch as well. I hold my head up, watching her admiring my cock, and beginning to stroke it. Slowly taking it into her mouth, I close my eyes, and enjoy. Feeling her mouth taking my cock in, her hands on my shaft, and I feel her fingers wandering down. She quickly passes my balls, and I feel pressure my ass. Baby Girl knows Daddy loves ass play. I feel a finger enter my ass, and I let out a small moan.
