Just Now Ch. 01

This is the true story of meeting my online Dom/Lover and how he gave me my very first spanking. It's an exploration of the emotional and physical aspects of my desires and needs. If you're looking for a quick sex scene, look elsewhere. I hope you enjoy reading my story as much as I've enjoyed living it.

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Just now we've met.......

My plane was set to arrive three hours before his, just enough time to realize my luggage was lost, worry that I wouldn't find the taxi driver, and pace back and forth between terminals until I had figured out which terminal he would be in. I scanned the arrivals board for the hundredth time. His plane had landed and I thought that by now he should be waiting for his bags.

I walked over to the baggage claim area, a plexiglass wall separating me from the carrousels and waiting people, bleary-eyed from travel. My eyes searched the crowd, nervous anticipation flooding my body. I couldn't screw this up, not when we were meeting for the first time. He expected me to have these details taken care of.

My breath caught in my throat as I spotted him. There he was...not a picture on a computer screen but Kunal, in the flesh. He looked over in my direction and I give a little wave, catching his eye. A smile spread across his face.

I played a game of charades, letting him know that I'd be waiting outside of baggage claim. Gleefully pushing my luggage cart, burdened only by my carry on, I joined the mob of people looking for loved ones and scanned the row of waiting taxi drivers. I almost didn't believe it when I saw one with my name on his card. Thank goodness! I breathed a sigh of relief as I stopped to let him know that I was the Mrs. X he was waiting for. Things were coming together.

My attention turned back to the doors everyone exited from baggage claim, not wanting to miss Kunal as he came out. Just as I thought my nervous bundle of energy was going to explode, he walked through the doors. My smile probably freaked him out - a grin that spread from ear to ear. I'm not sure he knew what to make of me. Things were slightly awkward as we approached each other and he started to reach out his hand for a handshake. A handshake?!! I moved in for the hug. He was real!! And really here!!! We backed away and began the appropriate small talk.

"How was your flight?" I asked.

"It was fine."

"I found the taxi driver," I said, pointing over my shoulder at the man waiting for us.

"I lost a bag," Kunal said wryly.

"Oh no! What was in it?"

"Shoes and toiletries mostly."

"I lost my bag with all my clothes," I stated blandly.

As the stilted conversation continued and we marveled over the odds of both of us losing a piece of luggage, I was painfully aware of my disheveled state. I had all these plans to look great when we met. What was I thinking?! I had last seen a shower over 24 hours before. I had slept in a cramped plane seat in my clothes. Who knows if I even had any makeup left on my face. And my hair! I had managed to run a brush through it at least, but I couldn't vouch for the state of that either......and my suitcase with all my clothing was who knows where. And Kunal....He didn't look like he had slept on any planes or traveled across any continents. Damn him!

We followed the driver out to the car and climbed in as he loaded the bags into the back. A silence followed and I tried hard not to let my nervous worry overtake me. I have a tendency to fill awkward moments with conversation, but I knew Kunal was naturally quiet and observant. I forced myself to sit back and watch the scenery as the car moved swiftly through the industrial outskirts of town and into the heart of the city. Finally my nervousness got the best of me and I pulled out the map I had picked up at the airport, unfolding it.

"We're here right now. I think." I pointed to a vague spot on the map. "And this is where the flat is that we rented."

Kunal grabbed the map and began studying it intensely.

"Do you have any idea what you're looking at," I asked, flashing a teasing smile.

"No." He turned and looked at me, chuckling.

A little bit of my tension broke at the sound.

The ride was over so soon. Before I knew it we were pulling up to the door of the place that would be our "home" for the next week. We unloaded and carried our few possessions up the old, worn staircase. The owner of the flat showed us around the tiny, studio apartment outfitted with all the modern amenities and decorated nicely. He handed the keys to Kunal and then he was gone and we were alone for the first time.

"Well, I guess we'd better get settled in," I said. Practicality always comes in handy at times when one does not know what else to do. I dropped my carry on by the window that overlooked the street and shucked off my shoes. That felt so much better!

"I have a lot planned for tonight. Ohhhhh," I groaned in remembrance. "I was going to wear this dress that I had and a cute little sweater."

"What's the problem?" Kunal looked at me, clearly forgetting my predicament.

"It's in my suitcase. With all my other clothes." I flopped on the mod leather couch burying my head in the throw pillow to muffle my scream of frustration.

"You should be upset for me too. I don't have the shoes I wanted to wear."

I looked at him in disbelief. He had a completely straight face. "Are you serious?!"

"Yes, I'm serious," he said.

"I can't seem to muster up any sympathy for you - seeing as all my clothes are in another country." I buried my head in the pillow again, in full sulking mode now. I was wrapped up in my own misery, oblivious to Kunal crossing the room to my side.

"Poor baby." His sarcastic tone stood in contrast to the hand that soothingly stroked my hair, like he had talked about doing all those times online. "I'm going to go shower and get changed. You rest for a bit and then you'll feel better."

I turned my head to the side, resting it on the pillow as I looked up into his steady gaze. An almost imperceptible sigh escaped my lips as my restlessness quieted under his touch.

"Yes, that sounds like a good idea," I replied as my eyes fluttered closed. Jet lag and the day's stress was taking its toll. He continued to stroke my hair and the weight of his strong hand as it settled on my head was the last thing I felt as I drifted into a peaceful sleep.

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My eyes opened slowly, adjusting to the dusky light in the room. Taking in the view of the unfamiliar carpet that I had while laying on my stomach on the couch, it hit me. This wasn't a dream. I turned my head a bit to look across the room, and saw him, the pictures in my inbox come to life. Kunal's trim, well-muscled frame filled the window as he looked out on the street below. God, he was handsome! Just how I like my men, casually sophisticated and clean cut. His hair was almost black, still wet from his shower. He had on a polo shirt that was the right mix of tight enough and not too tight. The jeans....I couldn't contain my smile. When a man wears a pair of jeans that fit just right the angels sing in heaven.

Now on the same side of the globe, we were breathing the same air. If you had told me I would be here, I would've laughed. I wanted to believe I had a streak of wildness in me, but really I played it safe in life. This was the antithesis of playing it safe. I was a married woman meeting a man that for all intents and purposes was a stranger, in a city that was thousands of miles from my everyday existence. Everything about this scared and excited me.

He looked back at me, the corners of his mouth just hinting at a smile. "Are you ready to explore the city? We only have one week."

"No time like the present," I said, as I pulled myself up to sit on the couch, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. I ran my fingers through my long, brown hair, trying to tame the wavy tresses into something somewhat presentable.

"Are you going to change?" Kunal asked. "Oh, wait. You don't have any other clothes," he teased.

"Very funny. I'm glad you can find joy in my miserable situation." I shot him a smile as I got up, adjusting the rumpled shirt and stretching out my kinks. I grabbed my shoes, sliding them on, and reached for my purse, making sure I had my camera.

"Ready to go?" Who was I to let vanity stand in my way of a good time?

I was eager to show him around my dream city. I wanted to see and experience the sights with him. I had wrestled with myself and settled on the decision that this would definitely be a purely platonic trip. I had told Kunal as much. After hours of conversations online, talking over the phone, discussing and dabbling in long distance bdsm - whatever that is - we had decided that we were better off just as friends. This meeting was planned before things had fizzled between us, but we went ahead with the trip as it would still be nice to meet and each have a vacation.

I headed out the door of the apartment, waiting as he closed and locked up.

"Where are we headed first?" he asked, turning to me.

The itinerary had been all my responsibility. I had been here once before and so he left the planning up to me. Of course I ran everything by him for his approval, but like all good managers, he knew when to delegate.

"I thought that first we'd explore the old parts of the city, go to a market, take in the smells and sights, immerse ourselves in life here. Sound good?"

"Sounds great. We won't see it standing here. Let's go."

I smiled as I turned to skip down the stairs, more to myself than anything. His no nonsense approach to life that I had become used to over the months I had known him online was starting to come out. It was one of the things that I wondered about. Would our personalities mesh in real life like they had for so long across miles and computer screens? It seemed that things were not that different, and I felt more at ease. He would've laughed at me still being worried about that. He had reassured me many times that we were the same people and being able to have great conversations online would only translate into better conversations when we were face to face.

We opened the door of the apartment building and stepped out onto the narrow sidewalk, looking up and down the bustling side street. It was like stepping through the wardrobe and into Narnia. Were we really here? I looked up at him, standing just a step away from me. His dark brown eyes scanned the buildings and people, the setting sun shining on his caramel skin. I fought the urge to pinch myself. Really?! Are we really here?! Me, and him?! Taking a deep breath and slowly letting it out, I got my bearings.

"Come on, mister," I said with a smile. "The sights aren't going to come to us." I turned towards the main street and confidently headed in the direction of our first destination.

And so began our trip, vacation, epic meeting. Hell, I didn't even know what we were doing. While we acted like two old friends, there were things that simmered under the surface. I was filled with questions. Did I want this to stay platonic?

"Of course you do!" my practical side screamed. "Really?!"

It was best that way, not to let things get messy. Two friends sharing a week - nothing more. Until the next night.....

We had fallen into a comfortable routine by then. I led the way through the city. We took turns snapping the requisite souvenir photos of various historic landmarks. I added bits and pieces of interesting anecdotes or history that pertained to what we were seeing. Kunal was polite, calm, taking everything in. I was my usual talkative, smiling, cheery self.

"Hey, old man, are you coming?" I taunted as I walked on ahead of him down the street. "We do have other things to see today if you're not too tired."

He merely gave me that hint of a smile again and said not a word. I broke into a grin, aware that he was letting me get away with my smart ass comments and teasing remarks. This was something different from online. Whereas he had insisted I speak respectfully to him online, no unnecessary sarcastic comments or smart remarks, here he was clearly giving me more leeway. But it was obvious from the piercing look in his eyes that I could only go so far.

As the heat of the day started to weigh on us our energy sagged. "Let's go back to the apartment and you can cook me dinner tonight" he said.

"Great," I mumbled, letting out a little sigh.

"What was that?" Kunal gave me a pointed look. "Hmm?"

"I'd be happy to cook dinner for you. What would you like?" I pasted on a smile to cover my anxiety. This was one of the most worrisome aspects of this trip for me. How was I, a suburban American housewife, as white as they come, the queen of the meat and potatoes meal, supposed to cook for an Indian man who was vegetarian? I had only had my first taste of Indian food a few months before. I loved it, but that didn't mean I could cook any of it.

I steeled myself as we walked back to the apartment. He had told me before the trip that he didn't expect me to cook Indian food. He only wanted me to make hot meals that were vegetarian. I so desperately wanted to make him happy. I remembered how he had been when his cook back home had been late with his meals. He was so upset he told her to leave and not come back. This was a man that valued a good, filling meal - considered it essential. I didn't want him to find my cooking inadequate. His comfort was important to me. My stomach was almost in knots. Maybe that should have been my first clue that I had ceased to think of him as just a friend.

We trudged up the stairs to the apartment, thankful to be out of the heat of the day, but finding no relief in the un-air conditioned flat. I kicked my shoes into the corner and tossed my purse on the counter, standing in front of the floor fan in a vain attempt to cool off. Out of the corner of my eye I watched Kunal shrug off his shirt, leaving him in just his jeans and a white tank top that was like a second skin. The contrast of the crisp white shirt against his dark skin set off the broad expanse of his shoulders and back that tapered to a trim waist. My pulse was racing. "Get a hold of yourself, woman! Platonic....platonic....platonic," the little voice in my head screamed. My mantra was doing me no good. I groaned silently, carefully stealing glances so he would not catch me gawking.

Kunal casually walked the few feet to the pullout couch that dominated the tiny space. Climbing into the bed and propping himself seated up against the wall with a pillow he fixed his pointed gaze on me. "Are you waiting for an invitation?"

"What?" My brows scrunched in confusion. "An invitation for what?"

"To make dinner. We came back here for you to cook. Do you need an invitation to go in the kitchen and get started?"

"No, sorry. I'm going," I stammered.

Did I just say that? Did I just have some man talk to me like that and I said not one word in sarcastic, caustic, or bratty reply? What the hell was going on? I didn't know whether to laugh at myself or be completely dumbfounded. I had spent my life having boyfriends and men in general twirled around my finger. A flirtatious smile and comment or sharp wit and intelligence usually gave me the upper hand. If that didn't do it, I had been naturally endowed with generous curves, i.e. big breasts, that usually put any man in a trance, eager to get into my good graces. I was not one to fall for male chauvinist behavior. I was more likely to verbally skewer any man who tried to pull that kind of stuff. Yet here I was giddily walking the few feet to the tiny kitchen to prepare this man his meal - on his command.

I felt his eyes on my every move as I went through the motions of putting together my best attempt at a meal with such inadequate kitchen supplies. "Do they really expect me to cook anything decent with the sorry excuse for a knife that's in the drawer and only one pot that has a top?" I opened every drawer and cupboard, huffing and puffing my displeasure. It did little to relieve the tension. Every complaint and comment was met with a simple word or answer from Kunal.

"You'll be fine.......Just cook.......Stop complaining."

I set about the task of making his dinner. His attention on me never wavered, yet far from making me more nervous, I found it had the opposite effect. His steady and intense gaze was calming, anchoring me to the task at hand. I had a job to do for him and I was determined to do my best. The meal was certainly no feat of culinary genius, but when I presented it to him I was beaming with pride. I had made him dinner, now to see if he liked it. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and strode the few steps to the bar stool that was pulled up to the counter. Sitting down, he took his fork in hand and started to eat.

"It needs more salt. Do you usually cook things this bland?"

"I'm not from India. I'm not used to cooking with alot of spices and I don't like spicy foods." My nervous meter shot through the roof. This was going to be a long week if he was going to be upset with every meal I cooked.

"It's okay."

"Just okay?" My heart sank.

"It's good."

Thank goodness! I let out a breath that I didn't know I was holding and took my first bite of food. I ate quietly while he finished off every morsel. His focus was purely on eating and I frankly didn't know where he put away all the food, but I didn't care. If he was eating it all, I had accomplished something. As he finished off his dinner I offered to get him some more water and took the plates to the sink. I spent the next 15 minutes washing all the dishes and cleaning up the kitchen with no offer of help from him. I didn't expect any - that whole male chauvinist thing. And here I was completely bowing to it, and cheerfully, I might add. I was proud that he had eaten all my dinner, that I had provided for him in that way, and thrilled that I could be washing his dishes while he sat on the bed sending emails on his phone.

I was far gone now, off in fifties housewife land. I still didn't consciously realize it though. The change had been so subtle. I had slipped into that role - the one I had been in for all those conversations online. It was so natural with him. He assumed that dominant role and I gratefully took on the role of submissive, happy to serve the one who was in control. But the voice screaming, "Platonic!" in my head didn't see it. She excused it as me just making him comfortable. He was away from what he was used to. He had special dietary needs in a meat loving city. Of course I would cook for him. It sounded so much less chauvinistic when framed that way and more about good hospitality.

I dried my hands off on the towel, confident the tiny kitchen gleamed. Walking around the kitchen counter I laid down on my side of the bed with plenty of distance between us in the king size bed - playing it safe. We made small talk - what we would see the next day, what we had liked seeing so far. The whole time my mind wasn't on what we were talking about. There was an argument going on with myself.

I had moments in life where I took big chances and did what I wanted to do rather than what I "should" do. The good girl, straight A student, had sneaked out her window one night and spent the weekend at her boyfriend's house. This was another time that I had to choose. I could keep things neutral, safe, purely on a friendly level, but I didn't really want that.

This was my one chance. My one time to be "bad" - to step out of my safe life and see where it took me. I didn't know how Kunal felt, though. Would he reciprocate? After all that had transpired between us online - the "relationship" falling apart, did he have any feelings for me or desire to be anything other than platonic? There was only one way to find out.