I notice you immediately as you walk out the automatic doors of my local regional airport onto the pick up zone of the arrival level. You are wearing exactly what you told me you would be but more importantly, it is your comportment that identifies you instantly. You saunter out like you own the world and your persona is of someone who demands his own way. I observe you as your head swivels attempting to locate where I am; your big, green backpack slung casually over your left shoulder. ‘That has to be you. Oh, my gawd, will you like me?’ I ponder. 

I know; I am way out of my element yet I have inexplicitly been drawn to this moment in time, to this airport by the strange magnetism you wield over me. I cannot comprehend what you do to me but I know you do it nonetheless. I am not thinking; I am just reacting to your instructions. I feel lightheaded. I believe I am hyperventilating and I caution myself to ‘breath long, slow breathes Misty, you mustn’t be passed out, slumped over the steering wheel when Master opens that door’.

It took you some real planning and finagling to arrange to be here, but it is what you sought, no, what we both desired. Our relationship was ready to go to the next step. I sit here, just watching, suddenly shy, frozen in the driver’s seat of my car watching you in the rear view mirror. A part of me wants jump out and wave, bouncing up and down like a schoolgirl; yet I sit here as if rooted to this seat. You know the make and color of my car and even know the license number, so you will find me, I hope. 

Fate has brought us to this point; fate will bring you to my car, if it is to happen. My heart is pounding, my hands become unusually clammy, and they are slippery on the wheel. As if in slow motion, I tip the visor down and for the umpteenth time in the fifteen minutes I have waited here, I recheck my make-up. I adjust the vanity mirror a little and I watch your face light up as you recognize my car and purposely stride towards me. ‘Why am I so nervous and you are so calm. This is my fate; 
it is what I want.’

*****

I came today to meet a man I have never met and yet I feel I have known forever. It is strange to say that someone you have not met and in fact have no idea what he looks like can have carnal knowledge of you, but that is just the case. He knows me in ways that no other partner has ever known me. He discovered my latent need for submissiveness, a need so well hidden I did not even know it was there until he unlocked it. He freed me from my hell, a hell of dissatisfaction with my sexual life where I was always left wanting, unfilled.

We met on an innocuous chat site; mind you it was an adult only site and somehow the presumed anonymity that came with the Internet let me explore my needs in the darkness of the night. One night, shortly after I discovered the chat line he, Master D came and chatted casually with me; he asked if I would like to role-play. I said “Sure, that sounds like fun.” To myself I said, ‘After all I can always disconnect and just disappear. I felt secure behind the supposed anonymity.

In private, he questioned me about what I enjoyed and feeling brave I said “Your choice.” He laid out a scene that began leaving no doubt about the fact that he was in charge. I hesitated, should I follow, could I go there, ‘Why not, it is only make believe.’ I followed. By the end of the scene some two hours later, I knew what had been missing in my sexual life. I still didn’t have a label for it. But sitting in front of my computer screen in the darkness of my room, I had had a number of memorable orgasms. Me, the frigid queen, had cum and cum and relished everything he did, I could feel his touch, touching me in ways that would have caused me to laugh before. 

Who would have imagined that I would allow, let alone like someone restraining me and taking a whip to me? I certainly couldn’t imagine myself allowing anyone to insert a huge dilido in my pussy? I didn’t even own one. I had never even thought of my orifice as my pussy or cunt; when I did label it to myself it was my vagina. The first time he called it, a cunt, I was stunned, I hesitated, then shrugged and said to myself ‘in for a penny in for a pound,' it is only a game, a strange game like an interactive book, ‘try it, maybe you’ll like it.’ 

Afterwards as we just chatted, he inquired, “So how long have you been submissive?” 

“Who me? Submissive, I think not, this was only playacting, makebelieve.” 

His answer caught me by surprise “You can say anything you want but you can’t fool me, I know you are submissive, no one could do those things, play the role like you did unless you really are submissive. You see the average person would have run from my dominance. You are left sitting there at your keyboard starring at the screen wondering how you can get more. How can I feel this for real, aren’t you, Misty? If you are truthful with yourself, you know I am right. Don’t answer me, go away and think about. Stay away if you can. But when you are ready, I will be here. Good night, Misty.” And he was gone. ‘No such Nick.’

I went to bed that night and could think of nothing else, except the place this stranger had taken me to, a place, certainly only in my mind. But the response from my body had been explosive. Even lying in bed I could feel the restraints he had imposed on me. They were still on me, as I climaxed again in the moments before sleep overtook my conscious mind. My dreams were filled with dilidos and whips, my groans of pain and subsequent moans as the pain turned to pleasure. I awoke refreshed and rested, but excited. 

Even before cleaning my teeth I went back to my computer to the chat line to see if he had been real. He was waiting for me that Sunday morning, I had no more than signed on than I saw his name. I watched for a few minutes wondering if he would call for me. He didn’t. Finally with shaking fingers, I typed his name, I reviewed it before pushing Enter and realized that my fingers cannot type when they are shaking. I laughed to myself at the ‘nsdtrt F’. What would he have thought if I had pushed the key? What are those typos telling me? Maybe I should go away. I did. 

I left and went and showered and cleaned my teeth, but still drying myself I am back, my hair still wet with only a robe thrown over my damp body. I reconnect. He was still there. He doesn’t acknowledge my presence. I watched fascinated with the dialogues on the screen. They were pulling me in. He was there in the public room but not contributing, or was he in private already maybe he would not notice me anyway. This time I watched my fingers on the keys as I punched in ‘Hi Master D’ and took a big breath and held it as I pushed Enter. Instantly it was there for everyone to see that I, Misty, was saying hello to a Master. Did other people know the significance of the nick or were they as naïve as I was just last night? Too late to worry, it was out there, irretrievable. I sat holding my breath. Was I more afraid he would acknowledge me or not acknowledge me?

“Hello Misty, come private.” Popped up on the screen. Publicly he was telling the world, this chat world, that he wanted me. If they knew his nick, they knew what was about to happen to me. As if in a whisper, I key “ok” and hit Enter and double clicked his name. He was there waiting for me. He quickly laid out what he expected of me if I was to play with him. How I would address him? How I would come to him? He explained to me that I would be his and his alone. He called me his slave, his slut that shocked me but strangely it excited me. He told me that I would be his pleasure slave and he bet that I couldn’t get enough of his special love. He would not play with me until I went away and thought about it, though I beg to play now. Master D reminded me that he was Dom and he would play when he wanted, he told me to come back in an hour. 

I said “Ok” and he fires back. 

“OK, what bitch?” I sat starring at the screen perplexed. What did he mean? What did he want me to say? “You will always address me as Master D and not say just OK. You will say OK, Master or OK, Sir.” I don’t answer and he said, “Answer properly or leave for ever, you slut.” 

“Oh, OK Master D, please don’t send me away, please.” I was stunned at the terror I felt that he might send me away or not answer me. Strange!

Six months later, I was so linked with my Master and wanted him so badly that I have agreed to meet him in person, today.

*****

Again my movements seem in slow motion, labored, as I lean over, and push open the door. Your face breaks into the biggest smile as you lean your tall frame down and look in at me for the first time. I open my mouth to speak, but the volume control must be broken, for I just whisper, “Welcome, Master D.” and even at that the ‘D’ is said almost breathlessly. ‘What is wrong with you girl, get a grip.’ I scold myself. ‘This is what you want, now show him you are glad to see him.’ I smile, eyes not quite meeting yours and finally in a somewhat normal voice get out a “Hi.” You are busying yourself, getting your backpack off and digging your sunglasses out of its front pouch. You still haven’t said a word. 

“Open the trunk.” You quietly order. It wasn’t just a statement nor was there any please attached to it; you were setting the stage; taking the lead. You sound exactly like what you did on the telephone. I feel my face flush, I have never done anything like this before and now the moment of truth is here. Your voice over the phone has taken me to places I never imagined myself going, let alone enjoying,  enjoying...... no, needing what you do to me; it has brought us here, today. I reach up, take my keys and push the trunk button; the release sounds so loud. My body is amplifying every sensation. You step back and toss your backpack in from the side in on top of mine and your big hand pushes the lid shut. With a quick side step, you are back at the door sliding in, the speed with which you do it leaves me wondering if you did it because you think I may just have put the car in gear and driven away. ‘Yes on one level that is exactly what I wanted to do, but I don’t. 

Sliding in your shoulder brushes my bare shoulder, your heat almost burns my skin; but it is what I need and with a sigh, I relax. My fate is happening, you are here. You lean over and give me a chaste kiss. As you do, your left hand takes possession of my bare leg just below my shorts. You sit back in the seat, doing up your seatbelt not releasing my leg. “Open your legs wide, wider.” As if in a trance, the same trance I go into whenever I have chatted or talked with since we first met, I open my legs. “Good, let’s go, I have to catch my flight back here at 9:00 PM. 

Speak up Misty, if you want me to stop this at any point even now, but unless you say the word until the moment I step out of this car tonight you are mine, understand? Remember the safeword you have chosen is Navajo.” You watch me, judging my reaction. I only nod, just once and turn the key. You pull your hand off my leg; it feels cold now, I am bereft. 

The drive out to the old farm is via a major highway for the first half hour. We talk inanely about your flight, the weather, my car, and the traffic, avoiding any more personal or serious subjects. Even though, you are being the perfect gentleman, I can still feel where your hand was on my leg. All the way, I can feel you assessing my attributes. I can feel your eyes scanning me up and down, taking into account everything, judging it against your memory bank of our conversations. I am in a constant state of blush and I don’t blush. 

We pull off the highway onto the country roads, you reach over and just for a moment touch my bare leg then it is gone and you are back to being the gentleman, polite, and solicitous. My leg burns from your touch; I feel my body responding to your touch. My labia open like the wings of a butterfly. I must really concentrate on my driving. Maybe I shouldn’t have told you that we are nearly there. “Here we are”, I say as we crest the hill, I flip on the right hand signal light and slow; remembering that the lane was rough the last time I was here I slow to almost a stop before I ease off the road. Still the front-end crunches all the way down on the shocks ‘Ouch’. 

You chuckle “Women drivers.”

“I was raised here on this farm. The bush is back there, a forest of mainly deciduous trees that is about likely about 20 acres. It was been burnt out about half century ago, so there is only a few of the old growth trees, still scarred; however there is lots of newer growth. It has really grown back. When I was a kid it used to be pastured with yearling cattle, so the undergrowth was kept to a minimum. The farm is gone now; soon it will be turned into yet another subdivision. It was a great place for a girl to go to loose herself.” It just bubbles out of me.

I look over at you, seeking your approval. “This is my most special and private place. The best place I could think of to start our real relationship. I so want you to come and take this walk with me.” It is a glorious summer afternoon. We drive back through the fields on the rough rutted farm lane parking under the canopy of the large hickory tree. 

Getting out of the car, we each walk back towards the trunk of the car, suddenly silent. We smile over the roof at each other. Our arms ache to have our first real hug; our mouths hunger for the first taste of each other. The peck on the check at the airport doesn’t count nor does your touches during our drive here. As if a matched pair as we clear the car our hands reach out to each other, we cannot wait another second to be in each other’s arms. You are stronger and you stop as soon as our fingers touch and you wench me in with your fingers and arms until I am standing nose to chest with you. A shiver runs through me as your arms encircle me. ‘Oh how I have dreamt of and ached for just this single moment, a moment that can never happen again, but will be replayed in my head forever. It is happening. I lift my head, our eyes meet and hold; our world captured in that gaze. As your head lowers and I tip mine back to meet your lips, we watch the other’s reaction. Will it be as good for the other, as we know it will be for us? 

The touch.....Oh, the touch’, as if electrocuted I arc into you, my arms come up under yours, encircling your broad back, not quite touching, my fingers wide spread trying to touch all of you. Your lips gentle now, growing with urgency, with need, ‘yes, yes, you are everything I knew you would be’. I moan softly and relax in your arms as your tongue explores my lips, tracing their opening, pushing into my teeth, ‘ah oh yes’ and my lips and teeth open to meet their master. You open me wider with your tongue or did I open wide to you. I relish in your exploration of my mouth. Your hands, big hands, strong hands, grab my short clad ass and squeeze and lift; lift me up into you, my pubic mound touches your growing cock. ‘Heaven!’ My tongue enters your mouth for the first time, your teeth, the roof of your mouth, the backs of your teeth; your supple tongue dances with mine. We stand locked in each other at the mouth and the pubis. Time stands still, in the warm sun, birds and crickets our orchestra. ‘Will it be right here you take me? No, no, this is too ordinary!’ I scream in my head.

I guess you feel the tension in me for you let me down patting my ass; you pull away. You reach into the trunk and get my backpack and help me into the harness. Then you heft yours out and put it on. Laughingly we help each other adjust the backpack straps. I want to know what you have in yours. Babbling I tell you everything that is in mine, “I brought a white wine in an insulated cooler, 2 glasses, a variety of breads and cheeses and fruits.” I end up laughing at the explosion of words that spill out of me. “What is in yours, Master D?” You stubbornly refrain from disclosing what you are carrying beyond the obvious, a thick blue and green plaid blanket that is peeking out. You lean close and give me a quick peck on the cheek and a tight hug. It is kind of awkward with our big pack-backs. You take my hand.

We walk hand in hand through the tall tangle of mixed grasses, timothy and Lucerne predominately that fight for growing rights with the rampant weeds, chicory, burdock, golden rod, and ragweed. This used to be a well-maintained farm lane, though only a mud track the cows kept it well trimmed. It was the cow patties you needed to watch out for, ugh. I tell you about the trees, each one of a childhood friend; about gathering the hickory nuts to make fudge; the big oak tree that from the top you can see all the way to town, gathering the acorns for our pet squirrel and craft
making. I stop for a moment, under my oak looking up into its canopy lost, yearning to recapture the past, to climb, climb up higher and higher, leaving the problems of the world behind. As if you know I need this moment, you stand back and watch me transform back into the little farm girl. My feet never leave the ground but the weight of the world has lessened when my gaze comes back to you. I reach out for your hand and smile, relaxed, totally relaxed and one with you and nature. You lean close and whisper, “You are mine.” And we walk on.

There is my perch; my reading and dreaming rock, a large rock about seat height, two feet by three feet and reasonably flat, it must weigh tons. It sits beside a big post that used to make a stable backrest, but now when I lean back against it, it is wobbly, in fact it feels like it will give way. You reach out and grab my hand steadying me. “I used to escape to my rock with my books and my dreams, to sit in the afternoon sun when the farm work allowed it”. It is certainly big enough for the two of us to rest on it in the sun. 

Our packs dropped on our respective sides and as one we turn towards each other, hungry for each other’s kiss, to taste each other. Yet our kiss starts out gentle, tentative, lovingly. We hold the back of our partner’s head as if we are afraid that the other may bolt or is it that we want the other even closer. Our lips exploring, the sexual tension building between us as it does our mouths open and your tongue does an exploratory search into my mouth, into my recess. Your hands go to my shoulders and you push down. I am not sure what you want. You are pushing me off the rock. You have my mouth captured as I slide to the ground at your feet. Your tongue dances with mine, then moves on to circle my mouth, taking ownership of mouth. You form suction with your lips and suck my tongue deep into your mouth, not that I am an unwilling participant. I return the favor, hungry for your taste, the feel of your mouth. Our hunger feeds our hands and they rove all over the other’s bodies, touching, exploring, and seeking out those erroneous zones. We both stop and look at each other, laughing knowing that if we don’t move we won’t move and that we need to cool down. 

“You belong at my feet, Misty.” I have learned a valuable lesson I am to be at your feet not beside you. I blush; the realization that this is no longer play hits me, this is real and you expect me to be the same as I am in cyber.

You stand and lift me off the ground giving me a lingering hug. You reach down and heft my backpack put it on my back, turn me around and do it up for me across my chest and hips. I am anxious, need to show you the rest of my private place. “Here is where my hole in the fence into the bush used to be, now the whole fence is gone, guess it has been a few years, huh.” We walk unimpeded into the bush. 

“It is now much denser than it was when I was a kid.” The farm lane through the woods now has trees thirty feet high creating a leaf canopy. It is almost too thick to walk through here easily, we must step over, duck down under, and stop and untangle ourselves from the blackberry briars that are everywhere. Every time one of us stumbles, the other reaches out; at the touch we cannot resist the temptation to kiss, to hold, to explore the other. You possess my breasts at each stop, feeling, pinching and twisting first one then the other. It makes for a slow journey, but time has lost all meaning. There is only you and I and nature at her finest on this bright summer day.

“Ah there, Master D, listen you can hear my creek, listen to it.” It sounds just like it always used, it is like an old friend babbling to me the sound of the water over the rocks. I guess if the whole thing was larger these would be called rapids, but here it is just a babbling brook. I look up into your eyes, so proud of my creek. “I hope you will like it here as much as I do. Even though it was been some time since I last was back here; it is the place that I use to center myself when in the real world gets too much.  “Take a deep breath, smell the air, so clean, so fresh.” You can smell the damp ground, last year’s fallen leaves as they turn to humus and this year’s  new life. “Oh Master D, please like it.” 

You smile, breathing deep, gasping in fake distress. You hold me tight to your chest chuckling, ou bring your mouth down to mine cruelly, stop inches from my mouth, and only give me a feather kiss that makes my mouth ache. No not just my mouth, my whole body aches. I reach up behind your head and take your big head and pull you towards me, we smile just before our lips touch opening in unison. A moan escapes me, one of pure joy. You respond in kind with your own moan, a hungry moan. Your two big hands take my ass and pull it in and up into you, so my pelvic bone grinds against your hard cock. We stand locked together; if not for the tree behind me, we would tumble to the ground as we lose our balance. Instead you have me pinned, just where you want me, unable to move.

“Misty, I should just tie you to this tree right here, to hell with your special place, I think I will take you here.” You take my hands and hold them behind me, behind the tree. The fact that we are clothed is the only thing that keeps your cock from entering me, right here, right now. My eyes lazily open as I feel your head twisting. You look around, though still locked in our kiss to see if it is possible to take me right here. “Nay, we will go to your place, but you are going to pay a very dear price for keeping me waiting, you know.” I pull away. 

“No Master D, not here, we are very close now, please Master.” You slowly let go of my hands and I slide down the tree to terra firma. We both are reluctant to move.

“Down boy, down.” I laughingly say patting your bulge. I stand on my tiptoes giving you one last peck. I take your hand and pull you to start you moving. We go down the steep hill, we hold on to the trees to keep from falling; the two of us laughing at each other’s antics like school kids on their first date. 

“See Master D, there it is, see how the water flows over and around those rocks. This is the best place to sail stick boats. Let’s do it, huh.” You smile
indulgently and rub my back as I lean forward to let my creek run over my fingers. Your fingers on my back let me know that the boats are going to have to wait.

I kneel beside the stream and cupping my hands I scoop up some of water and thirstily slurp the water knowing this is good spring water that the spring is just a little way to the left. I scoop some more water and jump to my feet to give you a drink too, most of it leaks out, down over your shirt. But you still lick my hand, kissing my palms. You lean towards me, wanting to kiss me saying “Misty, you are driving me crazy, come here.”

“No Master, no, not here not now, soon it is just over here.”

“Well make it quick, girl, or it will be here, right here.” I give you a push towards my old fort. It is an old children’s fort that I want to share with you. 

“My brothers and our friends built this fort years ago and I occasionally come here to be alone. A lot of it is gone now but it is still here, see. Those two trees in the middle of it never were here before, but the rest of walls are fairly intact.” I step in and turn around “Welcome to Fort Misty, Master. Please come in.” I teasingly say and pull you in. “You know, this place used seem much larger.” Your size dwarfs it. There is still plenty of room for us to have our picnic lunch, though. 

I swing my pack off and busy myself with getting the cloth and food out. “I hope you like white wine because that’s all I brought, that and water. I also brought some Brie and havarti and old cheddar cheese, oh and some very good garlic herb cream cheese. Now we both have to have some of the garlic cheese, k.” I laughingly say, looking up at you with my big brown eyes. 

I just sit there for a minute looking at you, amazed that I have you here with me. “Pinch me, Master, is this for real, are you really here?” I could drown in your eyes; I can feel your hunger. 

“I guess this seems like a silly place to bring you on our first outing. I hope you don’t mind tramping through my bush, but I just had to share my secret place with you. Are you disappointed? Master, are you?” I reach up and take your hand. 

“No Misty, I can see why you like this place, it helps me understand you much better. Thank you for sharing this with me.” You pull away momentarily while you toss the blanket out and let it float to the ground.
It rests on a cushion of last year’s leaves, all crispy in the dry summer air. They smell musky like earth its self as they are crushed under our feet. 

I pass you the wine in one hand and the opener in the other. “How about that, I remembered both.” I move over onto the blanket that you placed between the trees. I pick my tree and lean back the glasses in my hands and watch you. You lean against your tree sliding down it until you are seated, the wine still in your hand. You toss the opener into the middle of
my pack. “Two points.” You say chuckling. You take a glass and pour one and pass it back to me, taking the other you quickly pour yours. You pass it to me so you can re-cork the bottle and careful set it aside. 

You reach out and take your glass “Here is to us, may our friendship grow, Misty,” you say saluting me. Our glasses touch, we sip and we smile at each other leaning towards each other. We kiss lightly. Sitting back we delight in just looking at each other. We know the memories that we take away from this day will have to do us forever. My right hand comes up and touches your cheek, feeling your whiskers, though freshly shaved they are still there. I trace your eyes and lean up on my knees to kiss them, and then fall back down taking a gulp of wine. I just want it gone I want both hands free for your face. I think you are the  same as you guzzle your wine. With the tip of my left index finger I run down your nose and around it. I bring my finger to my lips and kiss it, then I take and place that kiss on the tip of your nose. We smile at each other; I lean in fast stealing a kiss. But I am gone before you can react. I laugh at you trying to follow my kiss. My wine gone, way too fast, I set my glass safely aside. I trace your lips, such well-defined lips. My hands, both hands, like they have a mind of their own, go to your hair and I run my hands through it. When I take my hand away, there is single hair between my fingers and I carefully hold it while I unfold a napkin. I lay your hair on it, in the center, and fold it up. “When you are gone this hair and my memories of today are what I will have of you. You don’t mind leaving a hair behind for a good cause, do you?”

Finished with your wine, you toss the glass out of the way, only the floor of leaves keeps it from breaking. I can’t believe it, you just crooked your finger in a ‘come to me’ manner and I am moving, coming to you, but its like it is in slow motion. I can hardly believe it, but, now I am suddenly shy; yet this is what I want. We know each other so well, yet we know each other not at all. The moment of truth, the moment of absolute trust is here. Can I accept the real? Or are we just cyber illusions to the other. Picking you up, driving here, walking, kissing, letting you touch me has excited me so much, I thought I was prepared for giving myself to you. But now as I move towards your arms and there can be no more excuses, I bite my lower lip to keep it from trembling. ‘Oh God, do not let me disappoint him, he is so special to me and we only have today. Please, God.’ I say in silent prayer. For a moment, when I look at you I think maybe you have some of the same thoughts. Your hand touches my bare arm and all doubts are vanquished from both our thoughts.

Your other hand comes around and you pull me close, kissing me, kissing me deeply. My hands wrap around the your neck. I rub my breasts against you, against your chest. A moan sneaks out of me. I am lost, lost to you in that moment. You lay me back on the blanket, on the cushion of leaves. Your mouth never leaves my mouth, as we fall back, you on top of me. You sort of are on my left side; your left hand fondles my breasts. ‘Oh lovely, so right.’ Our kiss continues, exploring, I suck your tongue into me as if I wish you could crawl right into me. Your hand finds its way into my short tank top, and under my bra to cup my right breast. Your fingers tease my nipple, rolling it around and around, firmer and harder. In my head, I silently scream ‘YES!’

You pull back off me and jump to your feet, I feel bereft. You busy yourself with your backpack. I lay there watching fascinated, waiting, not sure what is coming. You bring out all types of paraphernalia, there are belts, black ones and a flail, black with what looks like silk cords, hundreds of them attached to a long thick handle with a big knob on the end of it. Next comes some battery operated toys, vibrators, butt plugs and a butterfly, that makes me smile, remembering me purchasing mine and subsequently sharing the experience with you. Still not finished out comes several pair of cuffs, they are black leather with D rings sewn on and several lengths of rope. You place all of this on what was to have been our table. Lastly you  pull out several condoms. I can feel the tightness in my chest ease when I see them. I hadn’t realized I was that concerned about it. But it makes me feel better seeing you are considerate enough to have them. You busy yourself for a minute, humming a nameless tune. Sitting back on your haunches, “You really want it as we discussed or just straight or we can just talk, your call, Misty. This is your last chance unless you evoke the stop word, Navajo, so be sure.” 

“You mean you will not control me if I so chose? Master D, I am flattered you would walk way from what I know you want, what you came here for. I just lay here wondering if my fight or flight auto response will kick in and I would up and bolt. It didn’t. I am still here and I want to belong to you. Let’s face it I have already belonged to you for several months, so now it is real and I can’t wait.” I reach up and take your hand. “It is ok, honest, it is what I want also.” We smile at each other realizing that we are at a
crossroads. One-way we are the friends we were when we came, mind you special friends but just friends. The other way, we will be really committed to each other, in a true relationship; a sexual relationship or we will crash and burn destroying everything. You put your hand out to me; the choice has come down to me; and this single simple gesture. Instantly I take your
hand and you lift me to my feet. You reach out and steady me before you. 

You take my face, “Misty, are you sure.” 

“Yes, Sir.”

In one fluid move you pull my tank top off and reach back and unhook my bra. You then carefully, almost reverently lift the cups off my breasts. The cool breeze and / or the thought of you seeing my breasts for the first time, my nipples instantly stand up erect and hard. We both let out simultaneous sighs. The touch is like lightening going through me. My eyes are down but at that instant they fly up to yours. My lips part waiting wanting your lips. You respond with a demanding savage kiss. Your lips opening mine, demanding that I yield to your will. My breasts crush against you. My hands go around your neck. You put your right hand up and take my left one pulling it down to my side and I feel you latch one of the black leather cuffs on my right wrist. I am ready for the second one. But I can’t help but look down; I have never been cuffed before, not for real. 

You undo my belt and pull it out of the loops. You chuckle at a private joke. You toss it onto the tablecloth too. And you undo my jean shorts and I step out of them, balancing between you and the tree. I am left with only my panties on, snowy white, with a lacy front panel and thong back. You step back and just stand and look at me, critically. It scares me that you will not like me. You smile and the whole world is okay. Quickly you pull your red golf shirt off and slip out of your hiking boots. I can only look at your hairy body and imagine how your coarse hair will tickle my breasts. 

You put your big hands on my head and push never speaking, but the command is definite, ‘on your knees.’ I almost fall to the ground unable to keep my balance with the cuffs but you hold my head keeping me upright. “You know what to do Misty, do it.” With cuffed, shaking hands, I reach up, undo your braided belt, then the button on your jeans, and slowly slide the zipper controller down. Your black silk boxers shine in the dappled sunlight. Your musk is released when I open your cock prison. I lean in and take a strong sniff of, you. I try to pull your jeans down, but my cuffed hands make it difficult, I whisper, “please.” You lend a hand with the removal of your jeans and I hold the bottom of the leg as you step out of each leg, first right then left. I toss them aside. I go back to  kneeling and take the elastic of your boxers and pull out and down, freeing your cock. ‘Oh! Oh, my so wonderful.’ Your heady aroma; almost overwhelms me. Your cock flies free, up, so proud. His big head, that I am sure is almost purple with trapped blood, is hidden in his sheath of foreskin, now pulled taunt. I lean in and kiss your jumping cock, no mean feat. As he jumps he hits my nose and leaves a smear of precum on my nose. I look up at you and reach up ready to wipe it off until I see the look on your face that is a definite no; the word “No!” was not necessary.

Your hands reach down and pull on my nipples hard, twisting and pulling as hard as possible. You milk my breasts pinching the base of them and pulling out ending on my nipples. It is hard to keep my mind on my job, giving you the best blowjob imaginable.

My hands find your scrotum and specifically your balls, those treasures. My head ducks under your massive tool and I pull your balls a little forward so
I can administer to them, kissing them and then licking your scrotum. I cannot resist taking them into my mouth. Oh I have to taste them, taste you. You are a little salty and a lot hairy. Your cock jumps on my forehead. Finished washing off all your salty sweat, I leave them for your pride and joy. I raise my eyes to meet yours.

I kiss your cock head again though this time, my lips open as I am doing it, my tongue circles your stretched foreskin covered cock I murmur against it
softly. My left hand circles your shaft’s base and my right massages your balls. My supple tongue slithers in under your foreskin and I lap your precum at its source. It is hard to keep him, you, still. You moan, no groan, louder with every circle, your balls have gotten rock hard. I impale my soft mouth on your hard cock. I pull back, pulling hard, the suction caving in my
cheeks ending with my mouth wrapped tight around your cock’s head. My tongue tells me that your head is exiting his protective shield. I know that if I stay here on your cock, that he will come and the day is young. I give a final pull; sitting back on my heels, you pop out. Your groan now is pure agony. You push me onto the blanket on my back. “My gawd gal, you give
the best head. Misty, are you, hot and wet yet?” 

“Yes.” I whisper. 

Editor’s Note: 
Watch for The conclusion of “Come With Me To My
Special Place”
 

Copyrighted: 01/2000
Suzie Samuels