Tuesday, December 9, 2008

The Plan

I applied one more coat of cherry chapstick as I pulled into the parking place. I could feel the wetness in my panties already and I hadn't even seen her yet. I took my time getting my belongings out of the car, my heart racing faster and faster. I knew it was going to be wrong to take so much from her without giving her what she wanted, but my cold heart paled to my throbbing pussy.

She opened the door as I approached, laden with my bags. “That's a lot of stuff for just one night missy,” she said. Of course, she didn't realize that one bag contained only toys, lubes, and a thirsty towel. We embraced awkwardly, the hangover of old emotional connections briefly making an appearance in my head. I stepped back and took my bags to the bedroom.

She was wearing a very low cut top, her beautiful breasts practically spilling out everywhere. She had her usual gaudy big hair and makeup, but it didn't matter. When I came back from putting my bags down, she was bent over to control her stereo and I saw her perfectly round ass through the jeans she knew I liked the most.

She was so nervous. She couldn't stop talking and flitting around her home. I was nervous too, but I somehow was steady and calm. Mine was more nervous excitement than her nervous anxiety. We chatted about insignificant things – the 3 hours it took me to drive there, the weather, my new haircut. She asked if I would like to smoke and we did. It only made me hotter.

I told her I had some surprises for her. We went to the bedroom and I opened the beautiful red bag I use for carrying my toys. I pulled out my new strap on and we examined it together. I showed her the various controls and we compared it to her one strap on. She said she wanted to go first and I laughed at her.

As we walked down the hall to the dining room her arm brushed mine. I grabbed her left arm and shoved her against the wall, anchoring her arm down to the wall with mine. I took her right arm and put it above her head, holding both her small arms down with one of mine. She leaned forward to kiss me but I pulled my face back and pressed the palm of my hand against her pants. A little whimper escaped her, although she was attempting to act indifferent, smarting from my rejection of her kiss. I abruptly let go of her and walked away.

We sat at the dining room table to wait for dinner to finish cooking and to smoke some more. I really didn't care about what she was saying. My only thoughts were of fucking her senseless, but I pretended to pay attention. She was babbling something about a friend of hers when I stood up, took two steps to her, grabbed her by the back of the head and kissed her so hard she stopped breathing for a moment. I let her embrace me and I sat down on her lap, my hands finally cupping those luscious breasts. I lowered my head to kiss the top of her chest, my tongue tracing those perfect curves over and over. Her back arched and she moaned my name, her hands reaching for my pants. But I wasn't ready to let her have too much, so I stood up and walked away.

I knew this would most likely be the last time with her, and I knew we had less than 20 hours together. I wanted to make sure she understood that I would be fucking her on my terms. In our previous relationship she always had to be the domme, but I sure as hell didn't drive that far to let her do anything she wanted. I had a purpose, a mission unlike any I had ever had, a plan that both excited me and sickened what little heart I had left.


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