First Meeting

Her throat was tight, her mouth was dry, and she paced anxiously outside the hotel room, waiting for him to open the door. She had no yet knocked on the door, she was much too nervous yet. Dressed in the clothes he had told her to wear - opaque white blouse, see thru bra, lily white thong, short black skirt, white garter belt, and white stockings - she was early. She could be early, that was something he did not mind. Tardiness was something unacceptable. She arrived at the hotel an hour before the appointed time, but she was far too nervous to go directly to his room. She spent some time walking in the hotel shops and pacing the hall outside his room.

"What if he doesn't like me? What if I don't like him? What happens if there's no chemistry?" All valid questions that ran through her mind as she wasted time. "If if he asks me to do something I don't want to? What if I do something he doesn't like, will he slap me hard? Will he draw blood? Will he leave marks?"

It was now five minutes before she was to be in his room, and she knew she had better knock. She took one last deep breath, closed her eyes, and wrapped her knuckles on the faux wood. There was a brief moment where her heart skipped a beat as she waited for him to open the door. Her eyes were still closed when she heard the locks being removed. She slowly opened them as he opened the door.

"Welcome my love," his medium deep voice said as he extended his hand to take hers. "Come in, beautiful," he said as she walked inside. He closed the door quickly, his eyes never leaving hers. "I have waited too long for this moment," he said before kissing her cheek. "Too long."

Her name was Melinda Thompson, and this was the first time meeting him. Though they've known each other for over five years, it was only through the internet and a few phone calls. They were first friends: Melinda meeting him in a big beautiful woman chat room while she was married. It was not until she was separated that he discovered her lifestyle, the lifestyle they were going to experience: she was submissive.

It was during the talks with him that Melinda found herself wanting, craving a few of the curiosities she had, more specifically, over the knee spanking. She had read several stories involving older women allowing their husbands, their boyfriends, their Dominates, to hit their naked bottoms with their hands, paddles, and other items. This was something Melinda liked that she didn't admit to herself for a long time, but now, with the talks with him, she's more than admitted.

His name was John Everett. A 40-year-old bookseller and part-time writer, father of one. He and Melinda were friends, even after the little falling out they, and others, had when their mutual chat room broke up. They did not speak to one another for a while, a fact they both blamed on her ex. But that was the past, and now they were talking again. They were also discovering sides to one another neither knew had.

They needed to meet, that was something they always knew. There was a sexual chemistry they had, and it needed to be explored. It was fate that allowed John to be in her area. It was a week before the event that he sent her an e-mail that changed their relationship.

They exchanged daily e-mail, telling one another of their day, their family, what they dreamed, what they thought. But this one piece was different. Melinda had shared with John a Submissive Check List she filled out for a prospective dominant - one she eventually did not meet. John used the information and wrote to her, asking, no, telling her what to wear.

As a good submissive, Melinda obeyed.

"You look lovely, Pet," John said as he took her hand and directed her to a chair in the middle of his suite. He received a few rewards for being a lead bookseller and one was he received a suite when he attended conventions. "I am pleased to see you are wearing as I directed." His smile was warm and genuine. It warmed her to have pleased him.

"Thank you," she whispered. She was nervous: she couldn't remember if she was permitted to answer compliments.

"You are most welcome, Precious." He kissed her cheek again. She was allowed to accept those compliments from him. She smiled and looked away, blushing like a schoolgirl.

"Has Precious not been complimented much?" He took her chin in his hand and pulled her head up. He looked her in the eyes, those eyes that her pictures did not do justice. They were bluer than he had imagined. They were sexier than he had hoped. He was taken aback: he had an electric shock rush through his body.

"No," she quietly answered as she averted her eyes from his. She didn't want to look into his dark brown, deep, mysterious eyes again. Melinda looked into them as she entered and lost her breath. It is written that the eyes are the windows to the soul. Melinda saw into his soul and was shocked to find a caring soul. She was not expecting him to be so.

"You'll be told so much this weekend," John said as he released her face and walked to his bed. She glanced down at her feet before realizing that he wanted her to be proud, to hold her head high, and to smile. She looked straight ahead and smiled.

"But before we do anything, I'm hungry. Shall we go down to the restaurant and get something to eat?"

As he sat, John smiled at his friend. He had always lusted after her, and had had the idea of one day being in bed with her, but never had he ever thought of her as a submissive. Yet, here she was, in the clothing he had chosen, ready to later obey his desires. He quietly thanked the stars for his luck.

"You know I've always had a thing for you," he said as they waited for their orders to come. It had been several minutes since the waitress left and he could sense Melinda wanted to hear something from him.

"Yes, I know," she coyly said as she looked around, wondering if any of the other diners were thinking of what the two of them were going to do later. She silently laughed as she thought ‘To hell with them, I want to do this.'

"Good, good," he answered as he reached for her hand and grasped it as lovers do. She inhaled quickly, caught off-guard by this public show of emotion and affection. He smiled and squeezed her hand tighter, quietly showing her he meant what he had said and was about to say.

"I can't wait until we're alone again," she said as the waitress came back with their drinks. John thanked her for her service and leaned back, not to watch the young girl walk away, but to observe the others in the restaurant as they looked, not at him, but at Melinda. She was hot looking, he knew it, and wanted everyone else to know it.

He smiled broadly. "In due time, my Precious. Now let's eat."

Dinner was over and they retired to his room for an aperitif. He took her hand and directed her to a chair. She was about to speak but he placed a finger over her lips.

"Please," he whispered before walking to the room's bar. He took out a wine glass and looked back at her. He remembered she does not drink alcohol anymore and reached for the orange juice. "You'll need this for what's ahead," he said as he walked to her.

"Thank you," she whispered as she took the glass.

"Drink up, my Pet. We have a lot of things to explore." John moved to the bedroom and turned on a light. He stayed shortly before coming out. "Come in here, Pet," he commanded. Melinda placed the empty glass on a table and walked. As she passed him, she allowed her hand to rub across his chest. Though this could have been a show of defiance, he allowed it. He liked it.

"I love that you wore as I had asked," he said as he helped her sit on the edge of the bed. She was nervous again, her breathing began to labor. Thoughts of displeasing him entered her mind. She was wondering if this was a good thing, to meet him like this.

"I am so glad you are wearing those clothes," he said as he stepped back. "But as you may have thought, I only wanted you in those clothes in public. Now that we are alone, I want them off. So, please, stand and do as I command." With those words, he helped her onto her feet and took her place on the bed.

She knew he was going to tell her to do this, she had told herself it was going to be okay, but it still did not make her comfortable at this moment. She inhaled and closed her eyes. For a moment, she thought about running out of the room, out into the hall, and into the elevator. Those thoughts fleeted and she began to unbutton her blouse. She opened her eyes and saw him staring, a big smile on his face. She stopped and walked to him. She took his head and playfully held it in her cleavage. She sighed with relief when he laughed.

"Very cute, Beautiful," were his words when she stepped back and finished removing her blouse. When it was off, she tossed it at his feet and pushed out her chest. Her breasts were straining against the bra, the added action almost causing a rip. She smiled as she went to work on the skirt.

"Lovely," he said as he leered. He wanted to jump off the bed and rip off the remaining clothing. He wanted her, needed her, but restrained himself. He needed her to show herself, slowly. He needed her to be able to trust him.

Her heart was pounding as she unhooked the button and slowly pushed the zipper down. Thinking quickly, she turned around to show him the thong. She remembered a discussion they had once, that he loved the female bottom, and that it aroused him greatly. A tune popped into her mind and she wiggled to the beat.

Melinda could hear him breathe. She smiled and began to move her ass a little more exaggerated. She closed her eyes as she let the skirt drop to the floor. Still thinking of a song, she stepped out of the clothes and turned quickly. She caught John staring, staring at where her ass once was. She smiled broadly, as he caught and composed himself. He sat straight and beckoned her to him.

She came as requested. Standing nearly nude in front of him made her somewhat self-conscious, but she resisted covering herself with her hands. She raised her head high and threw out her chest. He smiled as he placed his hands on her hips.

"You know what is about to happen." Without questioning, Melinda nodded her head and lay across his lap. He gently rubbed her bottom as she nervously, excitedly squirmed. She knew what was about to happen, she wanted it to happen.

"Be gentle with me, Sir," she whispered as he raised his hand. He smiled as the hand came down. It was a firm yet tender smack across her cheek.

It was a firm yet tender smack on her cheek that caused her to coo. He raised his hand again as she squirmed more, this time only in excitement. Smack, another touch of his hand, and she cooed once more. She closed her eyes and let herself go. She was enjoying this, she wanted more.

Seven, eight slaps on her ass and Melinda was thinking she was going to cum. She and John never discussed whether she was allowed to orgasm on her own: if she had to ask permission first. She was about to ask if she may orgasm when he began to rub her bottom.

"Did my Precious want to cum?" he asked before his lips touched her reddening flesh. She whispered her answer; he moved his hand to touch the wetness of her thong.

"Oh my, Sir," she moaned as she moved her hips up and down. She was going to orgasm and quickly. She tried to hold off, tried to enjoy the feeling of his hand on her thong, but it was to no avail. "Oh my God, John," she cried out as she felt the emotion of the moment rush over her. She cried out his name as the physical aspect hit her, and hit her hard.

"Oh shit, Master!"

He sat on his chair sipping water from a bottle, his eyes locked on Melinda. John had no expected the reaction she had to his spanking. Though they had talked about him using his hand on her ass, she had not let on that she would have an orgasm, let alone a multiple. He was pleased that she allowed herself to open up with him, not be shy and introverted.

Melinda lay upon the bed, her breathing coming back to normal. It was not unusual for her to orgasm when with a handsome man. She had always cum with her husband and her boyfriends, but what was unusual was that she did so forcefully. Though she had been spanked before, it was just playfully. This was the first time she was purposely placed over someone's knees and smacked. She enjoyed it.

John stood and walked to the bed. He extended his hand and took hers. He helped her stand. He sat on the bed and tenderly kissed her belly.

"Remove your underwear," he commanded. Melinda took one look at him, smiled and pulled down a bra strap. She trusted him completely. She wanted to please him completely. She could not wait for what was to come.

As her thong hit the floor and she stepped out, he stood and removed his pants. His erection showed her that he was pleased, very pleased, with her body. She did not need to be told what to do. As he sat back down, she got on her knees. She moved in between his legs and took his hardness. As she took his hot cock in her hand, it hardened more, stiff and pulsating. She kissed the head. She began to stroke it softly as she looked up into his eyes.

"Go ahead," he whispered as she kissed the head again then took more of his shaft.

His hardness was hot, that was the first thing she realized. Though she's had harder, though she's had larger, this was the hottest one she's ever had. The heat caused her already wet pussy to become even wetter. She opened her throat and allowed more of his cock to enter.

He threw his head back as she continued to suck. John knew that she loved to suck, that was something he knew for a long time. He placed his hands on her head while she slowly sucked in his cock again. Slowly, she moved her head up, allowing his cock to come out of her mouth. "God baby," he moaned as she began to move her head faster up and down.

Melinda worked on his hardness with more vigor and energy. It became hotter; she could feel his orgasm approach. Faster and faster, her head bobbed. Harder and harder, she sucked on him. She wanted him to cum. She wanted to taste him. She wanted him to explode in her mouth.

"Baby, I'm going to cum," he said as his hands pulled her hair. His pre-cum was sweet, she wanted his cum. He exploded in her mouth, hot and hard. She opened her throat to allow it to go down. She swallowed hard, getting every drop. She squeezed his shaft, draining him.

John flopped on the bed, his cock fully drained, his new Pet performing as he had hoped.

Melinda was gaining trust in him. He had showed that he did find her body sexy, that he did find her sexy, and that he did want her. Her heart was racing again. This time, however, it was out of excitement, not nervousness. She was more confident, more positive that he would not hurt her, neither physically or emotionally. Her smile on her face was bright and broad, one like she hasn't had in a very long time.

"Now, my Pet, up on the bed and on your knees." John's voice showed no signs that he was tired, that he had cum. He knew what he wanted to do, and he knew she would follow his words to the letter. She nimbly hopped on the bed and got on her knees, her luscious ass inches from his face.

His erection was quick, it was hard. He climbed on the bed and playfully slapped her ass. It was not hard, it was a pleasure smack. She moaned and wiggled her hips. He placed his hand once more on her bottom as he moved his face closer.

"Oh, Sir," she cooed as she felt his hot breath approach her wetness. He teased her, licking her ass. She wanted to tell him to plunge it deep inside of her, but she knew that was not her place. He put his hands on each hip and kissed her ass.

"Precious, you're so hot," he whispered before placing his hot and wet tongue inside of her. She inhaled deeply; shocked by the force his went inside. She instinctively pushed back against his face, allowing him to go deeper.

Moving his tongue out, John knew she was wet enough. He knelt and placed his hot cock at the edge of her lips. Slowly, purposely slow, he moved inside of her. Pulling her hips, he went deeper.

"Oh fucking God," she moaned as the feeling of his hardness hit all her sensual nerves. She wanted to tell him to pull on her hair, to pump her hard and fast, but she knew it was not her place.

"Yes, Pet," he said as he reached up and grabbed some of her hair. He pulled on it, hard, as he pumped his hips faster.

"Oh God, Master," she screamed as his pace increased. She pushed back as hard as she could, want him to be inside of her as deep as he could. He pulled hard on her hair. She screamed again, screaming his name.

"Take it, Baby," he screamed back as his cock thrust in and pulled out of her wanton pussy. The smell of sex and sweat permeated the air, causing them to want each other more. Faster and faster he pumped. Harder and harder he pulled. Closer and closer, she came to another orgasm.

"Cum, baby, cum," he said as his felt her pussy begin to squeeze around his hardness. He could sense her orgasm was close. "Cum for me, cum for Master."

"Oh my fucking God," she screamed before her head dropped to the bed. He was still pumping and pumping hard as the waves of the glorious sensation overran her body. She closed her eyes and let it all out.

"Oh God, I love you."

Melinda Thompson lay quietly under the covers as John Everett showered. He had an appointment that night, nothing like the one he just fulfilled. He was in town for a convention, and as part of it, he needed to meet some West Coast publishers. He wanted her to come with him, but that was impossible. He was expected to be alone, and he had to arrive as such. He would let her sleep, let her sleep the night if possible.

She told him, in the heat of passion, that she loved him. He wasn't sure if that was the orgasm talking or her. In the morning, he would find out. But for now, she was a sleeping angel. A submissive angel. His submissive angel.