Monday, July 7, 2008

Virtually His

He was a dominant man and I was a submissive gal when we met on-line. Then we started speaking by phone, and it soon became clear that he knew exactly what pushed my buttons. One year later I was stepping into the airport in his Texas town and I saw him waiting for me, all in black. I’d known what to expect, but in person he was bigger and bolder than his pictures conveyed. And a lot more masterful. He swept me into a hug, all nice and proper, but he whispered in my ear, “Get out to my truck, girl, we’ve got some fucking to do.” And off we went.
When we talked about my visit, he’d warned he was going to spank me first, and after that get me on my knees to suck his cock. If I was good, he said he’d fuck me til I couldn’t stand up. The hotel was a few minutes away, but he wasted no time once he got me into the cab of his vintage 1988 Ford pickup.
“Pull up your skirt, girl and show me that sweet pussy.”
I shivered. He was incredibly sexy and so commanding I just about melted. But I did as ordered and loved the look of possession on his face as he stared at my snatch. He pushed a big calloused hand between my thighs and when his fingers slid between the slick, juicy lips of my cunt, I just about came on the spot.
“This is my pussy now, girl.” He stroked me hard and he leaned over and kissed me. Nothing sweet or gentle, no first time peck on the lips, he clamped onto my lips and his tongue shoved into my mouth and I was in Heaven.
He finger fucked me and kissed me and talked dirty to me until I was writhing on the seat.
“Your ass is gonna be mine, too. I can’t wait to get you bent over. I’m gonna paddle those cheeks hard, girl. I’m gonna make you beg for more, aren’t I?”
“Yes.” I was panting and he chuckled.
“Wanna suck my cock?”
“Yes!”
Then his thumb started rubbing my clit and all the months of e-torment, phone threats of spankings and cock-suckings, warnings that he was going to tie me down and paddle, cane, and flog my ass, fuck me senseless and keep me naked and in bed – I started to whimper and he shoved in a third finger.
“Come for me little pussy girl….let me feel you come,” he growled.
And then I did, bucking and groaning, as he grinned that wicked grin I’d only ever seen in pictures.
When I recovered from what was to be the first of many stupendous orgasms that week, I pulled my skirt down and put on my seatbelt. I looked over at my big guy, blushing, and watched him smile in undeniable masculine satisfaction. Then he turned to me and winked.
“Welcome to Texas, darlin’.”

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