The Date

Act 1

Before stepping out of the car, you move towards the rearview mirror. You've spoken with him many times, in fact you've also hung out with him before, but today is different. There's nothing ulterior in your motive in seeing him, nor likely is there in his, but it just feels different. The progression of conversation, the tone of his words and the gradual acquiescence in yours. You haven't yet let him take charge of the situation, but you want to.

You take a deep breathe in and you look. A single strand of hair falls across your left temple and the end sits precariously close to the corner of your eye. He had told you how beautiful your hair was without it needing to be blow-dried, and so today you let it dry on its own. You also take note of your eye liner, you don't often wear make-up, but when you do you're more aware of his gaze meeting yours and admiring your features, it excites you.

You instinctively lock the doors and slam the door. As you cross the street you can hear your heels striking the pavement and brush away the strand of hair from your eyes and bring it behind your ear. The doorman stares at you, too long, while opening the door for your entrance. You're starting to become self-aware of the situation. You've haven't been to his apartment yet, you look ready for a date, you're wearing makeup, you even let him pick out your outfit, you're...outside your traditional comfort zone. He was unsure of what to tell you to wear, so he gave you the option, one was more sexual, the other was more of your personality, but you look divine in both. You decided to be a brat, you wore the dress and heels, but he wanted you to wear nylons with that outfit as well - you brought them in your purse just in case. The other was jeans and a top, but for some reason you wanted to impress him.

You approach the desk-man and ask for Aaron, 1452. He's shocked, he expected someone as pretty as you to ask for Ted on the 18th floor, that and Aaron's not the type that receives many visitors. He buzzes up and as you listen to their conversation, your mind drifts. This time, though, it drifts to nothingness - you're just trying to relax and think back 6 months. A different state, a different life, and now here you are. "You're good to go."

Riding up the elevator you're nervous. You start to think about the weight of your purse on your shoulder, about the creases in your dress, how shaky your hands were while you were applying your makeup. Can you smooth out the wrinkles? Where's your compact? Shit, you left it at home.

You step off the elevator and turn right towards his apartment. As you walk along the carpeted floor, you can't help but thinking "what else is wrong with me?" You know he'll compliment you on everything, but you've always been your harshest critic. He opens the door, how did you get here, did you even knock on the door? He takes you by the arm and leads you inside.

He begins to compliment you, you look around and admire the place. It's clean, white, almost too much, but it's not another shabby bachelor-pad, even though the walls are devoid of everything, it's his style and you know that.

The two of you move to the couch and begin talking. Thank god he's on the other side, when he hugged you earlier you could smell him - not just his sex, but him, and that's when you knew you had to sit down. As you notice that he's crossed his legs towards you, you cross your own, your right hand running down your thigh and smoothing your dress once more; your hand moves further down your leg and suddenly touches your naked knee. You shudder, if he only knew what you were thinking. He can sense something in you, and stands up and makes your favorite drink. You watch his ass in tight pants as he heads to the kitchen. The conversation flows as it always does. It's not forced or too sexual or too personal. Just right. What else is just right about him?

You excuse yourself and head to the bathroom, bringing your purse with you. He told you that he likes lipstick, "it accentuates the lips," or something like that. You've never liked wearing it before, but he's been looking at your lips all evening, why hasn't he made a move yet? You reach into your purse and pull them out. Black, a seam going up the rear. You feel them, they're silky and soft, how's that possible, you bought them from Target. You sit on the toilet and take off your heels. You bunch up one of the stockings and slowly insert your foot, sliding them up your legs - you shaved today, your legs are silky and bare - and finishing with a barely audible "snap" on your upper thigh as the stay-up stockings rest comfortably on your left leg. You do the same with your right. You stand up and smooth out your dress once again. You've been doing it all night, but there hasn't been a single crease out of place. Finally your hands slide down your stocking encased legs, stopping just below your knees - who knew it would turn you on like this. You stand up straight, exhale aggressively, then inhale once more - this time deeply - you turn the handle and open the door.

Act 2

You've finally summoned the courage. The first step you take onto his hardwood floors outside the bathroom and you take an assertive step forward, the sound of your heels is now different. Five steps out and you're back in the main room. He immediately turns his head. He was at the sink washing the glasses, so when he turns his head is invariably pointed towards your shoes first; you just saw him smile, but not his usual smile, more...mischievous. Was he was smiling because of your newfound self-confidence that lingered in the air, the look of your shapely legs enveloped in nylons that he yearned to touch, or was it something else entirely?

You stand there, confidently, but you have an uneasy suspicion that your confidence is about to splinter. As he slowly walks over, his gait is more pronounced, he walks taller, more poised than ever-before, the grin from before is now wider. You continue to stand up straight, showing your confidence in your own sex appeal that he frequently admired. The closer he gets, the weaker your knees become; he walks past you, and around you. Face to face once more, he's only 3 inches taller than you, but it feels like a foot.

Your eyes lock once more and he reaches for your left hand. You expect him to hold your hand or caress your bare forearm. To your amazement, he's forceful; he grabs your arm and throws you into the wall behind you and to your right. Before your head can hit the wall, his left hand has cradled your head. His grip on your arm begins to loosen, he slides his hand down - will his fingers slide into yours? In one quick motion he grabs hold of your wrist, lifts your arm up and slams your left hand above your head onto the wall. All that's free from his touch is your right side. Before you can do anything, he leans into you. You can feel his two day old stubble bristle against your right check as he leans into your ear and whispers. His whisper is barely audible, but he doesn't need to say a thing, you decided to give in once you put the stockings on.

"You look positively ethereal in jeans and a top, and somehow even more so in what you're wearing now," he susurrates. You meant to use your right hand to push him away until he leaned into you - it's no longer just your knees that are weak. Before you can let yourself get carried away, he once again flings you, this time away from the wall and to the ground to his right; the strand of hair you had brushed behind your ear falls over. Your left hand is about to brace your fall, but you ask your right hand for help. As he flings you to the ground, you prepare yourself for impact, but your right hand brushes across his pants, just below his buckle. That was his manhood, not quite fully erect...yet.

Laying prostrate on the floor, he walks over to you. That beautiful hair of yours that you had air dried just for him is swiftly clutched as he seizes it from your nape and pulls upwards. As he stands to your right and looks down at you, you no longer question your motives, instead you accept that you yearn to be treated brusquely, and by no one other than him. "Good, it's not tattered, I don't like it when it's tattered." Did he mean your confidence?

Your hands are at your sides as he lifts you to your knees and he drops his right knee to the ground. He's still yet to bring his lips to yours, that's all you want, a sense of physical intimacy before you let him control you. Quickly, his right hand reaches for your throat, he's about to squeeze when he stops. He instead runs his fingers about your neck, taking care to caress each crevice, where your muscles bulge, where your clavicle begins, the entire time his left hand still has a firm grip on your hair, never letting go. He had often said how passionate he was in his dominance of women, you expected him to be breathing quicker and shorter, but instead it was your heart rate that had swelled and your breathing that had accelerated. Had you prepared for what was to come?

"If you're still this delicate by the time I'm done you'll please me tremendously," you'd never been called delicate before. He has a way of mixing his dominance with sensuality. Before you can blush his hand has returned to your throat and he finally squeezes. After a moment you start to tingle, but it's starting at your head this time. His grip loosens once more and he removes his hand; in a flash he strikes you across your left check. Not powerful enough to hurt or leave much of a mark, but it still stings, you realize you can't stop him anymore.

He begins to rise up and with that comes a subtle pain, you rise with him, his hand still clasped around your hair. He lets go and walks around you again. You're starting to feel subservient and your head drops. He pauses behind you, he never told you what he most liked, sexually. You exercise frequently and have a great butt, has he noticed, is that why he's stopped there? He continues and stops in front of you, but your gaze is towards the ground. He strikes you harder this time. "I'm sorry sir." He places the bottom of his index finger underneath your chin and lifts your head up so your gaze can meet his. They're hazel, they looked brown before, what else had you not noticed before now? "Shut up. I don't like meek women, you can be submissive and obedient without being compunctious. Now bend over."

You take a step forward and rest your hands and arms on a kitchen stool. He begins taking off his belt. It's a leather belt, you're hoping he's not planning on spanking you with it, you've only ever been spanked with a hand. He reaches over your back and places the belt on the table in front of you. It's brown, with a thick buckle. As he withdraws his hands slide down your dress, on either side of your spine. If only he had started to unzip it, he could take you at that moment. As he gets closer to your ass, his hands move outward, sliding towards your hips. They linger for a moment before returning to your lower back and proceeding downwards. He removes his left hand as his right hand caresses your butt. Is he going to lift your dress up, will he be happy or sad that you wore panties today?

He lifts up your dress and just looks. You're wearing a turquoise lace panty, does he like it? Just as you finish asking yourself you feel a smack come down on your right side. Not too hard, maybe he's not as aggressive spanking you as you had first believed. He takes his time between blows. Mixing up which side he spanks. Neither of you have said a thing, all you can hear are the echoes of the blows around his apartment; you start to feel them get stronger, and stronger, it's close to reaching your limit. Can you speak up when he gets there?

After what seems like 20 minutes, it feels like your ass is beet red, you've started to lightly perspire. You lift your head up and notice the belt is still there. He's suddenly stopped spanking you. You see him out of your left eye walking towards the refrigerator as he grabs some water. He raises his eyebrows at you ever so slightly, as if asking you a question; you nod no and drop your head.

He returns to his usual position, your dress had fallen back across your rear. He lifts it up once more. You feel his fingertips on your hips as his thumbs slide underneath your panties and he slowly peels them off. Your ass is now bared for his pleasure. He gingerly rubs each butt check, you can feel his touch becoming less aggressive. Suddenly the smacks return, harder this time than before. You're getting close to telling him to pause, but there's not need. Once again he stops. He begins kissing you where his hands just brought you pain. Those lips. Every time you see him you can't help but look at his lips. The way he licks them quickly, not overtly sexual, just enough to wet them, the way he gently bites down on his lower lip as he's thinking of how to answer a question. Why hasn't he placed them on your lips yet? Your ass gets to feel them first.

As he begins to kiss them, his hands wander about your butt and lower back, and finally upon your stockings that you put on for him. The feel of his hands on your legs is divine, the sensuality of his touch and the silkiness of the nylons is turning you on. Why can't he play with your pussy instead of your legs? After a minute, his hands return to your butt and his tongue inches closer to your ass. You've only once before had your asshole licked and you loved it, but it's been a long time. You can feel his breathe as his tongue gets closer to your puckered hole. He swirls his tongue around your ass, finally licking it. His hands have moved to your pussy now. As his right hand plays with your clit, his fingers on his left hand enter your pussy. It's wet enough to let him slide easily in. As his forefinger enters, so too does his tongue, pushing its way past your entrance. Each body part moving in a different manner, but coordinated. His right hand massaging and squeezing your clit, his other fingers searching for your g-spot, his tongue diving inside your butt and all around. After a few minutes, his tongue recedes from you as do his fingers. He brings his right hand around, now wet from your juices, and one-by-one he places them at your ass. After the first one slides inside, he says "you need to take more," and places his middle finger by the entrance and inserts it. Now you have two fingers inside. He's unsure of your experience in this and his left hand returns to your pussy, he places two fingers inside. You can now feel all four fingers inside you, stroking you in harmony. Suddenly you feel a third finger at your asshole, "I don't have any toys, another will have to suffice."

You've been bent over the chair for what seems like 45 minutes now. You've had your panties removed, your ass spanked and caressed, your legs have been stroked, your asshole has been licked and fingered, and your pussy has been toyed with - being teased like this and for as long as it has been doesn't happen much to you. You're damp and want something to fill you up, but you don't know in which hole. He finally stands and stops. His finger running up your crack to your dress and now onto your back. He grabs a hold of your hair and swiftly yanks you back. You're once again standing there, no more inhibitions, just desire, raw, visceral desire. You can feel your juices slowly running down the inside of your legs. He takes your left wrist and pulls it behind you, turning you around to face him. No words are needed as you look at each other, he takes your hand and you follow.

Act 3

You enter his bedroom, the lights are on, and their glow is soft. As you start to look around, he slaps you across the face, bringing you back. "First things first," he growls; you haven't seen this side of him yet. He quickly unzips your dress, before it's completed its fall to the floor he's undoing your bra. He tosses you onto his bed, it's large, king sized...again your mind is wandering...again he slaps you back to reality. "Your pussy is mine." And with that he lowers his head to your pussy. He doesn't just dive in, he starts by kissing your thighs, first on top and then on the inside. It's his tongue and his lips working together, leaving in their trail a thin film of saliva that evaporates after a few moments.

He's finally worked his way to your pubis. His tongue tracing along your lips and around your vagina. After a short while he's reached your clitoris. He laps at it, rubbing his lips across it, taking it in his mouth and sucking, gently. His lips move down, and he begins to suckle on your outer lips, holding each one in his mouth as his tongue flickers across it. He does the same with your inner lips. Before he continues, he places both his hands underneath your butt. Squeezing them, firmly. As he kneads your ass, his fingers once again reach that tight, puckered hole. You've given yourself to him already, and he's taken your ass. He takes it again. His tongue quickly darts into your pussy as his thumb takes control of your asshole. His tongue and his fingers both move in and out, and all around. He's salivating at your taste and smell. It's making him harder.

He licks and kisses, fervently trying to drink your very essence. He slows down, then speeds up. His tongue magically goes everywhere, deep, shallow, back to your clit. He's persistent, it doesn't stop. You feel something building inside you. Is it from his thumb in your ass or his tongue on your pussy?

He withdraws his finger from your ass and lifts his head up. You instinctually lift up yours to see what's happened. That look, his eyes, your eyes, they meet again. You know what to do. He's still wearing his pants. You quickly pop up on the bed and dive towards his pants. He previously removed his belt, that's one less thing to remove. As he takes his shirt off you unbutton his pants and lower the zipper. He's not wearing any underwear - why were you? Before he can step out of his pants, your right hand reaches for his cock. It's beautiful. There's a subtle curve to it, but you like it that way. As your hand begins to stroke it to full rigidity, the head swells as well. Its big, an almost perfect mix of long and thick, especially the head. The head mesmerizes you, and as your fingers focus on the head, your head moves closer, you lick your lips and to your surprise, you're so close that you've licked his cock head. There's no turning back now. Your lips part and your mouth envelops his cock, head and shaft. As your head is bobbing up and down his shaft, your tongue tries to keep up, licking where it can. You can begin to taste some pre-cum, its sweet and appetizing, it makes you wetter. As you continue to lick and suck along his shaft and head, his cock is beginning to shine with your saliva. You want him inside you, now...you need him inside you.

You stop sucking on his cock and lift your head up, trying to make eye contact with him. You haven't said a thing since you went to the bathroom, will you finally speak? His eyes meet yours and you quickly hop on your back. He takes a firm grasp of his manhood, erect because of the touch of your mouth. He steps closer towards the bed and his cock begins to part your pussy. It eases past the lips of your vagina. You want to scream, you want to say something, but he doesn't care, he's doing this at his pace. Shit, his head is big, it's filling you up already. As his cock continues to slip further inside you, you're starting to wonder how big it really is. He's finally fully inside you, to the hilt. As he begins to pump he realizes that he's forgotten an important aspect of your body. He leans over you - will he finally kiss you on the lips, will you finally feel his tongue enmeshed with yours? His hands take hold of your tender breasts. He kneads them for a moment before noticing your erect nipples. You can see him ready to place them inside his mouth, but instead he teases them. He squeezes your nipples, his fingers draw circles around your areolas, and finally he places them inside his mouth. As he sucks on your breasts, his tongue flicks at your nipples - the entire time his cock continues its assault on your pussy. No longer is his cock gentle with you. What started at a slow pace has strengthened. He's fucking you fast now, each time withdrawing his cock from your pussy you think he'll leave, and then he plunges it deep inside, the head tickling your G-spot over and over. This time, when his cock pulls out, he doesn't stop and he's no longer inside you.