Finally Meeting Morgan Ch. 01byAVixenLiterally©
I sat staring at the computer – flushed, nearly panting, and my heart beating so loud I thought I might pass out. The familiar tightening of my nipples and the warmth between my legs gave "voice" to my feelings.
After the most random of happenings that set off this chain of events we were finally going to meet. I guess maybe I should start at the beginning. It's just so damned hard to type with your hands shaking!!
I'm Morgan, 49 years old, living in "Shikaakwa." (snicker – look it up) Single, unattached, lesbian, I work as an administrator in health care. 5 ft, 8 in, 150ish, brown hair, shoulder length, trying to maintain some dignity in my figure with, admittedly, sporadic attendance at a nearby health club. Avid reader, love music, love the water, quiet dinners with good wine, the very essence of boring. Oh, and did I mention I still love watching women's basketball? Me: tongue firmly in cheek.
An online friend told me about this site called "Literotica" and I was enthralled with some wonderful tomes by women writers. Hooked me like a sea bass. So I wander from time to time and find some really fabulous works. When I say "fabulous" I mean zowie!! Not the slam, bam, thank you ma'am nonsense. Nooo sirree. We're talking serious literature here ... some rather short (6-10 pages), some very long, detailed and involved. Yeah there's some blech; gotta kiss a few frogs to find your princess.
In my wanderings, I come across "allyliterally" Hmm. She's penned something called "Delicious Thoughts." In the first line she states the title is a tribute to a woman whose pen name is "DeliciousThoughts." Aha methinks. So off I go to find this DeliciousThoughts. Her "Four Weeks" totally blew me away; I mean, I spent the entire weekend reading, dreaming and ... ummm ... more private things; completely forgetting about allyliterally. Eventually I come back around and find Ally and begin to dig into her work - "Delicious Thoughts."
So I finish it and move on. Yada yada. Terribly bad choice of words; it was SOOOO good I had a hard time keeping my fingers out of my panties. (blush) Eventually I get a bug and want to re-read the bio. In doing so, I come across Chapter Two. Now here's where the fun begins. Among my other "qualities" is this: I'm a submissive. Claire gets led through some most interesting (deftly understated; please hold your applause) situations. In the end she comes to realize that, indeed, it is the submissive that holds the power in a relationship with her domme. I can't help myself; I write, through Literotica, to Ally.
She responds; we hit it off. Weeks turn into months - as they usually do. We go from corresponding via email to chatting online; here, for the first time, random suggestions are thrown out about eventually, some day, who knows when, if that day should come ... you follow the drift. Lots of giggling innuendo; here I am, nearly old enough to be her Mum.
So we cross the Rubicon – a date is set, plans are made. I nearly faint when I realize I've agreed to meet this woman who, once a stranger, has become someone I'm more than a little curious to meet. Why so hesitant you ask? Oh, all right then, I'll just tell you!! It's been several years now but the love of my life passed away very suddenly after a very unexpected, very severe illness took her from this world. Jackie went into a meeting on a Friday – April 10th to be exact, caught a bug from some jackass. The strain of what she contracted attacked her heart; she went into the hospital April 15th and passed away the morning of the 18th. Jackie hadn't even turned 42. As Forrest Gump puts it, "That's all I have to say about that." Suffice to say my love life has been as barren as a Texas river in a summer drought.
So the day approaches. I get my hair cut ... oh all right, dammit ... dyed too ... mani, pedi, eyebrows ... you know what I mean. I wander through stores to find something ... a closet FULL of "nothing to wear." We promised each other we'd be very casual – famous last words. If I'm gonna be casual it'll be full bore casual. (wink)
Ally is coming from Toronto on business Friday morning. She'll stay downtown and we've agreed we'll risk it for a long weekend. She's been here before but I am the native, so she'll get the "insiders" look. I've wandered every damn store on Oak Street till they roll their eyes when they see me coming. "This one, again."
I settle on extravagant and beautiful black slacks that fit me like I still dream I look like: hugging curves where they should, hiding what needs to be hidden. A lovely beige silk top, with a touch of frill on the collar, that hugs my frame rather nicely but not too much so; the sleeves puff up a wee bit. I toss my non-blonde locks and think, "I'm going to casual her right out of her undies" then laugh myself silly. Fat chance there Morgan.
The day is here. My phone rings – it's her. Breathlessly I answer. Idle hellos; I can hear her voice taut with tension as well. Yes, the plane got in okay, yes the hotel is fine, yes the luggage - etc., etc. I tell her our dinner plans. Reservations are for 6:30. Meet you there. I am the witchy bitchy chickie all day long ... impossible to talk to, acting very vaguely blonde (sorry blondes – it's my story).
I digress for a moment. One of the things that drew me to her early on, when we were nothing more than two strangers across the thin thread of the internet, was the style, quality and detail of her writing: Absolutely exquisite in every manner. Simply charming; brilliant dialogue, words used perfectly to capture the essence of feelings and events. (I'm blushing here) A good story can nearly make me orgasm. There: Now the world knows. (That got edited about a thousand times) I think I first fell in love with her on page four of "Delicious Thoughts" when she describes Claire's feelings as she realizes she is going to have, for the first time, a woman make love to her. It was described delicately, sweetly, and with the utmost electric eroticism.
Me? Lordie my; I think they etched the details of my first female lover on a tablet somewhere. I was in college and while I kinda, sorta knew boys didn't do much for me I was way too involved in playing basketball to worry much about sex ... umm, to clarify – with someone other than myself. (Apologies to Sister Mary Holy Water wherever she is.) Anyway it was very breathless and hurried and giggly and wet and ... oh, my god ... I knew I found me. The touch, the scent, the feel of a woman in my arms, in my mouth, in my nose, was everything I never knew it could be. It was very romantic and sweet. Then the alarm went off the next morning and I had to rush like a tornado to get to the walk-through before yet another game. I guess it's a little odd I can recall some of the memories; sweet even?
It's time to leave the office. I knew that morning I was going to be nervous so I left work early, went home for a quick shower to freshen up, fussed with my last minute flutters about clothes, then laughed – literally out loud – at myself. That settled me down. After putting on my makeup (I really don't use much) and a couple well-placed dabs of Opium (I can't help it that I'm "old" – I just like it) I was ready. I had the doorman call me a cab and headed off to meet the not so mysterious woman of my dreams.
As the cab approached the restaurant I nearly screamed at the poor man driving, "S T O P!!" I had spied a flower store. He pulled over, I dashed in, bought a dozen long stem red roses, and scurried back to my ride. After paying the driver I wandered casually into the restaurant. Reservation made; table ready. I turned my head from side-to-side; no Alison. I headed into the bar. I smiled. Perfect!! She sat with her back to me. I walked up quietly, laid a soft hand on her shoulder, and whispered, "Hey stranger." Startled, she spun around; seeing that it was me, she relaxed and broke into a huge smile. I took the roses from behind my back. Smiling, I mumbled something like, "Welcome to the big city." Clever huh?
Her dazzling blue eyes widened. "Oh Morgan, you shouldn't have. They're beautiful. Thank you so much." Her smile warmed my, umm, toes. She grasped me by the shoulder with her free hand, pulled me down a little, and brushed my lips lightly with hers, murmuring, "Thank you so much love."
Cab ride to restaurant: $11.00. Dash for a dozen roses: $45.00. Gleam in her eyes as she looked at me: PRICELESS!
She stood, I offered my arm; we strode to the hostess. I said, "Reservation for two at 6:30 for Morgan." We were led to a table – in a quiet corner as I had requested. The hostess smiled at us. I slipped her a $20 and winked. "Enjoy your dinner ladies." Oh my yes!! I had every intention of doing just that. "Catch35" was the name. Ally was my catch and happened to be 35. Coincidence? Harrumph! Creative license!
Dinner was a lovely blur. Everything was perfect; that's the baseline expectation at that restaurant. Food was merely a tasty sideline to the company. We were perfect together. Details? My god, you are an impertinent lot.
We sat in the curved corner, side by side. I wanted to be as close to Ally as possible while doing everything possible to maintain the illusion of indifference. You may have guessed – I failed miserably. I reached my hand to hers nearly as soon as we were seated. When the sommelier came I ordered the only familiar wine – a lovely California Pinot Noir. I did my best to keep my eyes on the menu; the menu was sitting within my reach. Food was a paltry prelude to my fantasy come to life.
Dear reader - I admit to you that I was quite pleasantly surprised. You ask why. Remember, please, my background, age and experience. It had been quite some time since anyone had been in my life. I'm not old but my youth is now a fading memory. Did that mean I expected to be intimate with Ally? No Bible needed; yes, the thought passed through my mind on more than one occasion. It was obvious to me that, as the months had gone by there was an ease and familiarity that was growing. Expectation and reality are very different animals. As we chatted softly, sitting close to one another, there was a warmth about her that was disarming and exciting. She was very much who I thought she would be from our communications – witty, educated, easy to laugh, killer blue eyes, and a very lovely figure. The fragrance she wore was wonderfully subtle and maddeningly enticing.
Dinner was presented and enjoyed – as expected. What was important was the woman to my left. I wanted to devour her whole – that fantasy was futile. I settled for casual reaches for her hand, a brush of a "stray" hair behind her ear, a quick, strong grab at her thigh with my fingers. The conversation was what you would expect from two who were jousting, figuring out who was what, basking in the glow of a long awaited opportunity. In other words: delicious, random, carnal, consuming desire. This woman had me completely. Did she know?
I lifted my wine glass in a toast: "Alison. Finally. Across the months this is a wonderful moment, a fitting beginning; hopefully, the promise of more. Cheers and welcome darling." She blushed demurely.
"Thank you Morgan. This is so lovely. Your flowers surprised me. The evening has been a delight; the company even more so." She put down her glass, hesitated a moment, and so softly I had to strain to hear, asked, "May I kiss you?"
Our hands were already intertwined. I moved a bit closer, my heart pounding. I wanted so badly to taste her lips. I leaned in a bit; she took up the rest of the slack between us and slipped her hand behind my neck ever so softly, her lips finally, delicately, pressing to mine. Oh Jesus God I'm going to drown in her kiss. My lips part for her tongue. She probed gently. She is slaying me with this ... I'm so wet. I want her right here, right now. That tongue begins to take charge, more urgent in its search. I have to reach and bring her closer ... my arm slips behind her back to bring her to me. This is so delicious ... nearly every night now for the last couple of weeks I've frigged myself to near unconsciousness thinking of Ally taking me as her lover. This first kiss is so much more than I imagined. Breathless, we finally break the spell and pull away a bit. As I open my eyes I find her shining blues staring into mine, penetrating into what feels like my soul.
"That was amazing, Ally. We'd better go now or the diners might get a bit more on their plate than they'd bargained for."
She just smiled, then leaned in and devoured my waiting mouth with hers.
"When I'm through with you we'll go darling."
Oh my god!!
So a gauntlet has been thrown. Will I accept? DUH!! Minor detail. No!! Major detail. Do we dare spend the night together? Where? My mind is a blur ... my pulsing sex can't be an impartial arbiter.
"Ally? Ummmm ... would you like me to ...."
Your finger presses to my lips, silencing the question.
"Darling Morgan, you will come back to my room tonight. I simply insist."
"Miss? Check please!!"
Once paid, I slide from the booth and reach for you. Hand in hand, we stride from the restaurant. I beckon for a cab. Once inside, you slip next to me. Your hand reaches for my chin. I find myself pulled, ever so seductively, to your insistent mouth. You are ... Jesus God, you are everything. I melt. I want you so badly. It's not even a five minute ride to your hotel. I'm a puddle of desire.
The quick cab ride was frantic kisses, groping, and breathless murmurs. The poor soul who took us the five blocks to the hotel must have gotten quite the thrill ... I hope his wife, if indeed he was wed, enjoyed the night. I know I did!!
We rather sauntered into the hotel, arm in arm, with smiles that had to leave whoever was looking wondering what exactly we were up to. Once inside the elevator – thankfully, alone – you spun and pressed yourself against me, taking my mouth with yours. There was barely enough blood in my head; having to lean to reach your mouth had me in a near faint.
The door opened as the bell rang. On a dime, you turned, cool as a cucumber, leading me by hand to your room. You slid the plastic key in the door, unlocked it, pushed and, with a flick of your wrist, told me to lead the way. Once inside, the door shut behind you, I spun, pinning your hands to your sides, breathing into your ear, "You may think you're leading. Now you'll see." Remember those words dear reader.
I nibbled your ear, then darted my tongue, my breath hot. I felt in control with my height; I wanted you so desperately it never occurred to me who was what – nor would I have cared. After teasing you with my lips and tongue I came back to your soft, warm mouth. You hissed, softly, through my kiss, "Do you honestly think you are in control?"
Stunned, I pulled back, looking into the deep blue pools that had caught – no, captured - me.
"Well ... I ... Iummm ..."
Your soft laugh spoke volumes. Tables turned; game, set, match. We had spoken in email and in chat of my being a submissive to a Lifestyle Mistress – though it was a virtual relationship.
So what now? We kissed – a million butterflies fluttering and, most definitely, not in formation. I felt light-headed and giddy; both your presence and your scent ... that damned perfume. Pushing me away a bit and taking my hand, you led me into the foyer of your suite.
"Care for a drink?"
"Please ... red wine." I don't give a tinker's damn about the wine; I just want some time to try to collect myself. As if!
You pour yourself a sparkling water, hand me my glass, and sit down across from me on the couch.
"So Morgan, tell me, is this the night you'd envisioned?
My hands fiddle with the glass. A quick sip and, "Ally, truth be told, you're so much more than I ever could have dreamed. The emails, chats and pictures are one thing. Tonight has been quite ... more. I'm ... well, I'm simply" ... I put down my glass and walked to the couch where you sat. I knelt, closing the difference in height, and looked into those eyes and said, "Alison darling, you inviting me to spend the night" – I gasped – "oh god, I'm so sorry." I blushed furiously.
You smiled and said, "No, you're quite right. Even though we hadn't spoken of it I fully intended to spend the night with you."
I had a hard time meeting your eyes as I fumbled, "I overstepped – in assuming. My dreams overcame my sensi ..."
You, again, hushed me with a finger against my lips. Standing, you took my hand in yours and led me to the bedroom.
The lights are dim; the covers turned down. The four poster bed dwarfs the room; a rare California king. My eyes take in the room. I turn to find you, smirking, eyes blazing.
"Do you approve, Morgan?" said quietly.
I nod mutely. I live here; it's rare I have occasion to visit the higher end hotels; even less so that I'm in a suite that is so richly appointed as yours. Roused from my state of shock by your hand I find myself led to the bed side.
"Pet - undress for me." Pet? What? I nod mutely.
I step out of my shoes, kicking them to the night stand next to the bed. Unzipping the dress, I slide it off my shoulders. All the while our eyes are on each other, though yours dart as my bare shoulders come into view. With a wiggle the dress falls below my hips to my feet. My hands move to the front clasp of my bra. My heart pulses in my ears and my pussy as I undo the clasp. I catch your eyes, watching as they fall to the revealed cleavage - the 36Cs hold their own; a minor victory. I'm now left in thigh highs, garter, and a wisp of a VS panty.
Feeling extraordinarily vulnerable under your gaze I try for what I hope is a smile. Your eyes drink me in; as you bring the pools of blue up to meet mine I see them soft and warm; the smile lights up your face. I nearly sag with relief.
"Every bit as lovely as your photo, Morgan," said softly through your smile.
I stand as we look at each other. Normally I would move to you and bathe you with a thousand kisses while undressing you. But I'm hesitant; unsure. The soft "pet" completely disarmed and confused me. It spoke of a dominance we'd touched on early in email but not spoken much of since.
"Please lay back on the bed while I undress. Make yourself comfortable. Oh, and do keep your eyes on me." Words said quietly; no effort made to keep who was in charge hidden in them.
As I scurried back on the bed to the far corner I kept my eyes glued, my head resting on an elbow. Piece by piece you showed yourself to me. The blouse felt like it took forever to be unbuttoned. My heart pounded as my eyes took you in. You shook free and it dropped to the floor. In a flash the belt was loosened, the slacks slid from your hips; you stepped from your shoes – all in one motion. I hadn't realized I'd been holding my breath all the while until I released a gasp at the sight of your beauty. The pulsing throb in my center begged for attention. I stared openly, greedily.
"May I join you pet?" said with that suddenly familiar quiet confidence.
My mouth was desert-dry. I croaked, "Yes please." The sparkle in your eyes nearly set me over the edge. I was teetering as it was.
You joined me on the bed, slipping smoothly next to me. Your hand slid behind my head as you lowered your mouth to mine.
"Dinner was wonderful, Morgan. I'm sure dessert will be every bit the treat." So it began. Your mouth pressed to mine. As my lips parted I could hear my moan of pleasure as you gently pulled my head closer. You were delicately voracious in taking my mouth. You kiss was ... my god, how to describe it? I was yours completely; yet for as urgent as you were, you gave me every opportunity to kiss you back. Every thrust was met with an equal parry. Your mouth warm, your lips uncommonly soft, that devilish tongue was exquisite.