They met online and their initial correspondence consisted of about a dozen lengthy emails. Both of them were impressed by the substance and the style of the others' messages and each felt that the other was intelligent, accomplished, interesting, and grounded. They were straightforward about their desires, a rapport and trust was established, safety concerns were addressed, and they made a plan to meet.
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Sarah walked two blocks along the old-town waterfront to the coffee shop. The bright mid-morning sun was warm yet tempered by the cool air coming off the Bay. She had just pulled out a chair at an outdoor table when Tom approached. They smiled genuinely and greeted each other with a friendly kiss on the cheek. He was a full head taller but her boots brought her face a couple inches closer to his.
Boots. He was pleased to see that she'd worn boots, just as he'd instructed.
They settled into easy, casual conversation and it was soon apparent that the e-rapport carried over IRL.
After finishing their drinks, Tom suggested they find a more private place to continue the conversation. Around the corner they came to a small wooden bench in the shade of a storefront awning, away from foot traffic. There they discussed in detail the desires they'd already outlined during their correspondence.
She longed to be taken completely, to surrender to a man who would command her and use her. She harbored a core-deep submissiveness that had yet to be explored to her satisfaction.
He was searching for a woman who would follow his directions, even to the point that they might become challenging. His ideal woman longed to submit to his strength and his will and both he and she would derive immense pleasure from this power imbalance.
Sitting there on that wooden bench, he looked into her eyes and said in a low, steady voice, "Tell me what you are."
Sarah held his gaze. Her hushed reply was confident. "I'm a slut."
"Yes, you are. Tell me what you need, slut."
Taking a deep breath, she hesitated for only a moment before uttering, "I need to be used. I need to be held down and taken. Fingers, toys, cock... my mouth and my pussy and my ass need them all." Her breathing became ragged and a quick, high moan escaped her throat before saying, "I need to be fucked and filled over and over."
"Wonderful. Absolutely wonderful," he whispered aloud yet mostly to himself. Their gaze remaining fixed, he leaned in toward her but stopped just inches from her face. "Kiss me."
Sarah willingly traversed the last few inches and their lips met. Each melted into the heat and the passion of their first kiss.
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Stroking her flushed cheek with the side of his thumb, Tom disengaged their kiss and leaned away. He smiled and looked at her with an expression that was warm, even kind, yet at the same time projected an air of seriousness. "Stand up and walk ahead of me."
Up the hill was a thickly wooded residential neighborhood of winding streets and large lots. Sarah rose and began walking. Tom followed, admiring her from behind. Calf-high boots and a medium-short skirt; this dictated ensemble accented exactly what he wanted to see and he mentally caressed the backs of her legs from the middle of her calves upward..
Now arm in arm, they walked for a few twisting and turning blocks until they came to a well maintained tree-lined dirt alley. He led her to where it dead ended around a curve. Here, surrounded on three sides by a five-foot wood picket fence and within the shade of overhanging branches, they were completely out of view of any house or street. No traffic could be heard and no pedestrian or bicyclist was even remotely near them.
Facing Sarah, Tom put his hands on her hips and pressed her up against the painted wood. He then brought both hands up to her face and stroked her cheeks. She expected him to kiss her again but instead felt his hands move to her shoulders and gently press her downward. There was no mistaking what he was commanding her to do.
An unexpected sexual/conceptual thrill shot through her the moment her knees made contact with the soft dirt. Was she really allowing this man to push her to her knees? Did she want to be treated like this? "Yes," she said to herself as she reached for his belt, "fuck yes."
His belt unbuckled, she opened his pants to reveal his semi-hard cock covered by the black cloth of his shorts. She rubbed her hand over him once, twice, then reached for the elastic waistband.
Pulling him out completely, she gently wrapped her fingers around his hardening shaft. "Good girl," she heard from above.