Welcome reader - to be clear from the start, this story has no sex in it. Instead it focuses on a first meeting between online lovers and the intense build up to that moment. If you are still reading at this point, hopefully you will continue to do so. Oh, and it's my first story, so please be gentle...enjoy. Snow.
*****
Sitting outside a coffee shop at the arrivals terminal in the airport it all suddenly became very real.
I was here. I was in Chicago.
I fidgeted nervously with the book I had brought with me, carefully placing it on the edge of table. It was our 'sign', the way she would recognise me amongst the inevitable crowds.
She had said the book wasn't necessary, that she'd know who I was without it... but I couldn't help but doubt.
I wanted there to be no margin for error.
It was my backup, a sort of comfort blanket and, importantly, something to focus on beside the rollercoaster racing through my body. Not content at doing loop-the-loops in the pit of my stomach, every once and a while it would travel up the steep incline to my heart and then back; the perfect platform for the ultimate big dipper.
My foot bounced a hundred miles a minute and I could feel and hear the pounding of my heart throughout my entire body.
'Get a grip' I thought to myself, 'you're a bloody nervous wreck'.
Taking a deep breath and shaking my long brown hair out over my shoulders I tried my very best to look nonchalant. Picking up my coffee, I leant back in my chair and scanned the open floor; people hugging, happy to see friends, loved ones and what seemed like hundreds of private drivers with signs waiting to pick up holiday transfers and the like.
I couldn't see her. Or maybe I could. After all, I didn't know for sure what she looked like.
--
We'd been speaking to each other every day for two years...never knowing any more than first names and minimal details about our lives. We spoke about our jobs and our days at work, family events and the various trips we had each been on but never enough to identify the other. There was no reason for this, simply that it hadn't seemed necessary. That sounds odd, I know, but it started out that way, as many online relationships do and it just never changed. It was quite exhilarating in a way, liberating.
It seemed easier to express true feelings, your deepest desires, wants and wishes with an air of anonymity to fall back on. I mean, we we're never going to meet, right?... We'd said that from the beginning. It would never work. She was an experienced Domme online but that was it, and I didn't even realise I was a sub, not at first.
All that had changed the last two years. We'd thrived. Gone from strength-to-strength and had grown closer each day. We'd never spoken or seen each other, not even a picture, and yet we knew how the other felt, when they were happy or sad, when something was bothering them or they were distracted, purely from the way we typed, we could hear it in each others 'voices'.
Our relationship was D/s; she was very much in control and that thrilled me. It thrilled me because I had given myself to her freely, trusted her to take control, to ensure I was safe, comfortable and happy above all else. The most important thing we had in common, the thing that made us work, was that we both found pleasure in pleasing the other, one from a dominant position of power and the other from a submissive desire to be owned and cared for.
It worked perfectly for us, and that's all that mattered.
--
I scanned the room again, knowing I'd lost any 'chill' factor and suddenly fretted that everybody knew exactly what I was, why I was here and that, at the request of my Mistress, I wasn't wearing any underwear - a delicious shiver raced through me as I recalled the conversation.
As I continued to wait, I felt the tension and panic start to rise slowly. Glancing at my watch I felt a horrible lurch and roll in the depths of my stomach as the rollercoaster set out on another loop of 'the circuit' that left me feeling hollow and weak-at-the-knees at the same time.
I gulped a breath of air and looked around a little more animatedly. She was 30 minutes late. My flight landed nearly 50 minutes ago and she said she'd be here.. well, actually, we agreed that I would wait for her here, we never actually said when, I realised.
A thought came to me then. 'Was she late? Or was she making me wait?' The more I thought about it the more convinced I was that she was teasing me; knowing how much anticipation excited me...having said that, she also knew how bad I was at waiting; a catch 22, or rather, some might say, a win-win for me.
I smiled to myself then and, feeling a blush rise in my cheeks, bit my lip to stop from grinning like an idiot.
For some reason the idea that she might be teasing me brought comfort. I wasn't alone, she was with me in our own special way.
At that, I looked up at the coffee shop sign, triple checking that I was at the right place, rearranged my book for what might have been the hundredth time and reached for my phone. Just at that moment the Arrivals doors opened and another set of passengers and holiday makers made their way through the terminal. The bustle of noise and movement momentarily distracted me but also made me feel a little uncomfortable.
As the terminal quietened with people leaving to continue their journeys I got the strange feeling that somebody was watching me. A small shiver raced up and down my spine forcing my shoulders into a rapid jiggle and making me feel exposed.
Instantly my mind raced through a thousand memories of how and when she'd made me feel this way, that delicious exposure, the vulnerability and the excitement of anticipation.
