0 comments/ 20286 views/ 0 favorites Airport Ch. 2 By: ANCILLA HUH? Hand or paddle?? As sinister as it sounds, as scared as I am, intrigued is the best word to use here. All my life, I have been a "good girl". Been there, done that, crossed-stitched and hand-painted the t-shirts...way too many of them, as a matter of fact. My heart is pounding and I glance down to see if it's visibly thumping through my dress, like a Scooby-Doo cartoon. God I HAVE been a mom too long, not that there's anything wrong with that. Motherhood is unparalleled, indescribable, rewarding, exquisite, but it has it's place, and this is not it. This is MY time, OUR time. Paddle or hand, hand or paddle...it becomes almost a mantra. I can't seem to think clearly, my mind is racing, my blood is churning. I'm on my way to a SEX STORE with a virtual stranger. Ok, so now we know each other in the biblical sense, we fucked, and WHAT A FUCK IT WAS! Someone should have filmed that...put it on primetime...WHO WANTS THE FUCK OF A LIFETIME? Or...WHO WANTS TO BE A FUCKINAIRE? Could I coin that phrase? Er...do I really want to? O God, I can see the sign for the store. What if when I get up there's a wet spot on the seat? What if Jon sees it, too? The sign for the store is on, glowing hot pink, orange and lime green. Damn neon signs. I mean, they're neat looking, and they draw attention and all, but why does a sex store have to have them? And why does it have to be on now? It's BROAD DAYLIGHT! What if this were my town and all my friends and neighbors happened to drive by seeing my car? What if my SON drove by? Don't these people KNOW that I'm about to embark on my first D/s encounter, and that we're here to...to...what ARE we here for anyway? What's he going to get? Omigod. Omigod. He pulls into the parking lot and parks right in front, shifts the car into park and turns to me. "You ok?" "Sureeeeee." I answer, a little too loudly, a little too quickly, considering my body is as tense and tight as a nun in church. I'm attempting to appear casual and confident and he must see something to the contrary, because there he goes again chuckling. My pasted-on smile wobbles a bit and he reaches over to touch my cheek. Please, God, don't let it twitch. Shit! It's twitching, I can feel it. Sonofabitch. He removes the keys, opens his door and gets out. Maybe if I just sit here quietly, he'll go in alone. Maybe he'll forget I'm here. I sit perfectly still, safely hidden by my tinted windows, and I blur my eyes a bit causing all the neon and all the storefront to swirl magically deliciously in my vision. That would look cool on a t-shirt, all that mixed-up color. It'd be like the seventies again, like that one time whatshisname talked me and my friend into trying mescaline. That was fun...weird as hell, but fun. I blur my eyes a bit more and remember sitting in whatshisnames apartment, with my best friend, Linda, and a few other people, sipping on Schlitz Malt Liquor. Black lights, strobe lights, love beads hanging all over the place...God that was a good time. My face hurt so bad the next day from laughing... I blink as sunlight pours in from my right side, rudely interrupting my thoughts, rudely bringing me back to the present...Dammit. A soft but insistent voice..."Come on." My head swings from the storefront to him, from him to the storefront, and back again. My eyes scan the parking lot. Several cars are there, ranging from a brand new BMW 7 Series to a twenty-five year old Plymouth. OOh, I LIKE that black BMW... "Kitten." A hand reaches in and gently grasps my arm, pulling a little, so I swing my leg out and...Goddammit! Those fucking snaps pop open again all the way to my crotch and he gets a beaver shot to end all beaver shots. Extra added attraction, get your beaver shots here! Not one word is spoken and I don't even look at him, I simply swing my other leg out and stand, smoothing my wrinkled dress, bending to re-snap the dreaded snaps. You dummy, I think! I should have gotten one size up, or at least sat down in the damn thing before I bought it. I had been so pleased with the way it hugged my figure when I was trying it on, I never even thought to sit in it first. "NO." "Ah...what?" I glance up at him from my bent over position, my hands frantically trying to line up the snaps while maintaing eye contact with him. His hand tightens on my arm a bit. "NO, leave them alone." Blink. Blink. "Uh..uh....ok." I straighten, slowly back up a couple of steps forcing him to release my arm, and walk back towards him, looking down at the open slit on the front of my dress assessing what exactly would be visible if i did leave them unsnapped. Shit! Light reddish pubic hair peeps out with each step. What the fuck is the matter with him? Does he really think I'm going to enter that store with my pussy in plain sight? IDON'TTHINKSO. He grins at me, turns and walks toward the entrance, leaving me to follow. I stare at his back for a moment, torn between anger at his blantant lack of manners and the dawning realization of the fact that I can snap the top snap real quick before he turns around. Modesty prevails and I stumble after him, walking in a sort of bent over duck walk, feeling for the right snaps, praying to God they're lined up correctly. Good! Got the top one! Let's go for another...and he stops and turns just as I straighten up, trying to look innocent. "I'm coming..." Evil laugh out loud (ELOL-See? Free little AOL lesson included with every chapter!) erupts from those sexy lips. I sweep through the door he's holding open for me, head held high, determined to appear self-assured, and stop dead in my tracks, causing him to bump into my back. My eyes open wide, taking in the racks and racks of sex toys on counters and covering the walls. Dildoes, vibrators (perk), cuffs, floggers, whips, clothing, books, videos, lotions...what is that contraption hanging from the ceiling? Is..is that one of those swings my friend Casey was talking about? Omigod. Patience seemingly wearing thin, Jon steps around me, walking towards a wall bearing all sizes and shapes of paddles. I follow. He reaches for a beautiful one the size of a han-held mirror, picks it up, closely examining the smoothness and hue of the purple heart wood, hefting it, judging the feel of it. "This one will never do, the carving on the handle is uncomfortable." Now a deep hearty laugh erupts from his belly. "I can see right now that after using it for a little while, my hand would get sore. Can't have that, can we?" Chuckle. I do my best to ignore him as I haughtily turn my head and scan the store, trying to absorb the sight of all the goodies at once. He reaches for a different one. "Ooh! This one feels good. Bend over." "HUH? HERE? NOW?" My wandering eyes fly to his, then to the light oak paddle in his right hand. About eight or ten inches long and four or five inches wide, it rests in his half-raised hand. "UH HUH." My eyes narrow. "You're joking, right?" "No. Bend over." All the long months of yearning for this, wanting it, NEEDING it, come flooding back to me, apparently anchoring right in the center of my pussy because it begins to twitch and drip; so torn am I between wanting to please him, to please myself, and wanting to turn tail and escape from this madness, that it's all I can do not to run away. It never occurs to me to use my safeword, the word we had agreed upon during one of our last telephone conversations. I look around, trying to see where the other four or five customers are and what they're doing. His voice grows softer, causing me to listen harder. "Bend over." Exaggerated patience drips from his words. Fuck it. I bend over presenting my denim covered ass to him, my hands propped on my knees. "Lift your dress." "Mercy." Didn't have any trouble remembering that time, the word popped out of my mouth like hot popcorn at the theatre. Another of those damn chuckles. WHACK! GASP! WHACK! OOO...I LIKE this. My pussy agrees by producing a trickle of wetness that slides down my inner thigh. Silence. Nothing. Is he done? My head turns back toward him. He has his back to me, examining other paddles. Feeling like a fool, I straighten and casually stroll down the aisle away from him, my hands curled into fists at my side, coming to grips with this new exciting feeling coursing through my body. This is good. This is real good. This is fucking EROTIC AS HELL! I stop to look at something, or pretend to look at something; I'm not really seeing what's in front of me because I'm busy trying to quell the shivering that has suddenly come over me. God! Is this what the southern women call the vapors? That was awesome! I couldn't wait to get to the room. My body wins the war between raging hormones and a sedate upbringing, and abruptly I turn and walk rapidly back to him, standing next to him waiting for him to speak to me, like a puppy waiting for a damn treat. Ignoring me, he looks over the rest of the paddles and seems to decide on the one he had whacked me with earlier...GOOD!...then he slowly turns to me. "Did you bring Stanley?" Stanley was my vibrator, and yes, I had named him. "Y...yes..." "Batteries?" I didn't trust my voice at that point so I nodded. "Is there anything you'd like to look at?" Yes. Only EVERYTHING! "Unt uh." I shake my head no. "Are you satisfied with this paddle?" How can he be so matter-of-fact about this when I'm standing here shaking like this???? Can't he SEE? He saw. He gazed at her with heavy lidded eyes, reading her like a recipe for Brandy Alexander Pie. Brushing past me, moving toward the check-out counter he stops suddenly almost causing me to bump into him this time. My eyes follow his and I see that he's looking at wrist and ankle cuffs. "We don't need these, I have some in my suitcase." He smiles evilly at me. Ohmigod. The guy at the counter actually alarms me. His name tag reads "Eddie", and he sports longish coal black hair parted in the middle that hangs below his ears to his collar. His fingernails appear to be at least two inches long and are filthy. But it isn't his appearance that bothers me, rather, it's the vibes I feel as he smiles at me with his inky eyes. His karma. The only words I can find to describe him is "freaking icky". Jon makes his purchase and we walk away exiting through the door out into the fading sunshine of the great humid state of Florida. Opening the car door for me, he blocks my way as I try to get in. Lowering my eyes in frustration and excitement I wonder what it is he wants from me. I wonder how he keeps me off-balance so well. I wonder where he learned to kiss as I feel myself spinning away somewhere as his lips lock onto mine, as his tongue gently explores the inside of my mouth, and his arms encircle me, his free hand, the one not holding the black bag containing the paddle, gently grasps my hair, as if to show anyone watching that this is HIS hair he's grabbing, these are HIS lips he's kissing, this is HIS kitten he's holding. "Who are you?" I hadn't even realized he'd ended the kiss. My head is resting on his shoulder and I am trying to catch my breath. "Kitten," I sigh. "What are you?" Shit. I still hadn't gotten used to this part, even though he'd begun to train me in this aspect a month or more ago, after we'd finalized our plans to meet. He'd begun slowly, teaching me bit by bit...who was I, what was I, what was I here for...it still bothered me. It still conflicted with everything I was taught growing up, even though I knew it was simply a matter of changing my outlook. Whispering now, I reply shakily,"I..I'm your..." "WHAT ARE YOU?" "Sextoyiamyoursextoy." Another long deep kiss. God, can he kiss. "Good. What are you here for?" "Your pleasure." He smiles into my upturned eyes. "OUR pleasure, kitten, not just mine." ......Sigh....... "Get in." He steps aside allowing me enter the car, closes the door behind me and walks to the driver's side as I watch his every move, from unlocking his door to starting the car. "Does the hotel have a restaurant? I'm starving. Need my energy, ya know." He laughs. "It's gonna be a long night." O God O God O God. Twitch, my pussy answers. "Take this next left and get on 512 West. There's a restaurant, yes, the one I told you about at the airport." He takes the next left and exits onto 512 West. It 's only a few minutes until the next exit where the hotel is. "Where's Stanley? Get him out." "Here? NOW?" "Here. Now." Ooooo, shitttttt. "Take this next exit. The hotel is right there on your right," I say, trying to change the subject...slyly, i think. He lets it go for the moment. Asks me if I'm hungry, asks me what kind of food the restaurant serves. We make small talk, laughing at times. I feel myself beginning to relax and Jon smiles to himself, hoping, I can see, that I am calming down a bit. He likes it when I smile. He likes it when I laugh. I see it in his eyes. He was going to give her the time of her life, he just needed to go a little slower than anticipated, he thought to himself. But he had to keep her off-balance. She was delightful when she was bewildered. He couldn't help himself. He chuckled again. Unable to resist as they pulled into the parking lot, he turns to her and smiles. "So where is he?" "WHO?" "Stanley." I gape at him in astonishment. Ohmigod. We're HERE. Surely he doesn't expect... "And, kitten, one more thing. When I call you kitten, you will address me as Sir, or Master. When I call you by your name, or if you need to talk, you'll call me Jon and we'll be ourselves." "Ok." "Ok, what, kitten?" "Ok, Sir." "Good girl. Now, where is he." DAMN! Airport Ch. 3 Chapter 3: End Of The Beginning "I...I...I don't know where Stanley's at." What a great liar I am. Not. "He's somewhere in my suitcase, I think. He could be anywhere. It'd take DAYS to root through all this stuff and find him. I might have even forgotten him, I was so nervous packing. You know what? That's probably what happened. He's probably still in my drawer at home. As a matter of fact, I don't even remember bringing him. He's...he's..." Someone shoot me. Why is he looking at me like that? "kitten? How many bags did you bring for two days?" "Uh...uh...just one but it's packed to the gills. I like to have a choice. It's just a quirk of mine. I even had to sit on it to close it. If I opened it now, everything'd probably fly all over the inside of the car. Then it'd take all that time to refold, repack, and ZIP it up again..." I sigh heavily, dramatically, I hope, peeking at him from the corner of my eye. "Hmmmm..." What's he mean by THAT? I wonder to myself. So, putting on my most innocent face, I turn to face him, blinking brightly, hoping against all hope that he will let this go. And, unable to keep my big mouth shut, I go on, digging myself deeper into this hole. "I mean, I'll look if you want, but it's just going to take up a lot of time and...and...well, I just didn't know if you wanted to waste our time together. I mean, we only have two days and...." I stop to take a breath and he bursts into laughter, turns to me and says, " kitten," He's having a hard time keeping a straight face, I can tell. "kitten, what are you hungry for?" O my God! He's reading my mind! My face turns completely red, I can feel it. Heat flushes up from my chest, rushing to the top of my head and back down again. Is it that obvious? "A nice, rare porterhouse sounds good about now. What do you think?" My goodness, I've got a filthy mind! Food was not the first thing to pop into my head when he wanted to know what I was hungry for. "Steak, yes. That's exactly what I was thinking. And a salad. We're in luck, the restaurant in the hotel is known for it's grilled steaks, rare as you want. We'll go here instead of the little place across the street. Let's go." I've got to have some air, I've got to breathe! I reach for the door handle and suddenly my head is slowly moving toward him, via a hand in my hair, and his lips are all over my face...my eyes, my nose, my forehead, my mouth, and his tongue is sliding into my mouth mingling with mine, teasingly. Food? Did someone mention food? Who needs food when I can have this? My body begins to melt all over again, and just as I reach up to pull him closer to me, he breaks the connection, opens his door, and gets out leaving me sprawled in the seat, panting yet again. Ok, now I'm beginning to wonder about him. He turns me into what basically adds up to a drunken sailor and just LEAVES me. No fair. TWO can play at that game...just you watch, Buster! We gather our bags, one suitcase each, one toiletry bag of mine (with the hidden Stanley in it ), and a carry-on of his. As he reaches for that bag, an evil smile crosses his face, but I pretend not to notice. I'm going to show him that he CANNOT treat me like this. I grab my small bag and purse leaving the larger ones for him and regally sweep past him, entering the hotel, leaving him to handle the rest. I stride up to the front desk and smile brightly at the man standing behind it. "Can I help you, Ma'am?" I don't answer because I'm waiting for HIM to take care of this. My plastered on smile falters a bit, but I'm brave, I can hold it. Just because I don't hang out in hotels doesn't mean I'm doing anything wrong now. Just because I used to be Catholic doesn't mean I have to feel guilty about every seamy thought that crosses my mind. "Can I help you?" What's wrong with this guy? Why isn't he asking him instead of me? Haughtily, I raise my chin an inch or so and turn my gaze to my right, indicating to this dodo behind the desk that he should address...WHERE IS HE????? My eyes frantically scan the lobby, and of course he's not there. My head swings around and I see him standing outside chatting pleasantly with a very pretty woman walking her dog. The suitcases are on the ground and it appears as though he has no intention of coming in any time soon. They both throw their heads back and laugh at something, and he bends over to pet the dog, looking up at the woman as he does so, which indicates to me that he'd much rather be petting something else. Ok. Now my feelings are hurt, and my mind goes back to several of our many phone conversations. To all the stories he's told me over the months, many describing women he's met, not sexual encounters, but just the way he described them told me something. He likes women. A lot. Not that he's a player, not by a long shot. At least, he better not be. He just appreciates them. Nothing wrong with that. I just wish he'd show me a little appreciation right about now. "Ma'am?" "What?" I answer absently as I stare at them through the glass. "Oh, just a second...." And just as I decide to go out there, he waves goodbye and saunters through the glass doors, up to the desk, smiling at me. My eyes narrow slightly, but not wanting to demonstrate jealousy, I quickly paste my smile back on, hoping it looks authentic. "This gentleman here wants to know if he can help you..." God, someone shut me up. "I'm sure he does." We drop our stuff on the king sized bed and I'm out the door like a shot, before he can tease me any more than he already has. I really need a break here. Thank God we're on the first floor; I really don't want to be alone in an elevator with him right now. There's just no telling what he'd come up with. We're seated in the restaurant, white linen napkins, crystal goblets, three each...(O God, why didn't I read that etiquette book?), several forks, underdressed....shall I go on? At least I had a dress on. A waiter wearing a tux that probably cost more than my pure bred Maltese did walks up, and asks him if he'd like to see the wine list. Neither of us drinks wine, so I'm safe there and he declines, but orders a drink for each of us. Posser's Dark and Coke for him, Chevas and water for me. He remembered! Cool! Two of the glasses are swept away, and the remaining ones are filled with water. Saved again. Now, about all these forks...He looks at me grinning from ear to ear, probably because he doesn't think it's appropriate to actually laugh out loud again, and my eyes lower in respect, of course, (nod nod wink wink) taking advantage of the situation to try to solve the utensil mystery. Do I go from the outside in or the inside out? Straining to remember what Julia Roberts did in "Pretty Woman", all I can think about is escargot flying across the room. The waiter returns with our drinks and inquires if we'd like an appetizer, and hell, I haven't even opened my menu yet! And if you can believe this, (I couldn't, I almost peed my pants, make that my non-pants again) he says to me, "Do you like escargot, kitten?" "No, thank you," I whisper. As he peruses his menu, I stare blindly at mine, hoping to God he doesn't order an appetizer. Knowing I won't be able to swallow more than three bites of my entree', I sure as hell ain't gonna be able to eat much more. Dinner went more smoothly than I'd hoped, even though I didn't eat alot. The salad was very good. Tender spring greens with bleu cheese and pecans of all things! A nice balsamic vinagrette dressing...yum! He sure was able to put it all away, though. His appetite for things, ALL things, seems hearty and healthy. O God.... Back in our room, I get very nervous and I tend to babble when I get nervous. (You mean, you haven't noticed this? blink) "You know," I began, "we should have probably gotten separate rooms. I mean, after all, you probably wish you had a little privacy right about now." Which translated to, "O my GOD! What have I done! Have I lost my mind? I am alone in a hotel room with a freak who likes to spank women!!!" I'm still standing by the door as I say this, just in case he whips out a butcher knife or something, and he takes a seat on one of the two cushy chairs on either side of a little round table, removing his shoes. "Would you like me to get another room? Would you feel more comfortable if I did?" "N...no, of course not. I was just thinking of your comfort." Lesson #1. A submissive does not a wimp make. Noticing that I'd have to walk past him in order to take the other chair, I choose instead to sit on the bed. As soon as I sit down, I jump back up, realising that that probably wasen't the smartest place to sit at the moment. I grab my suitcase, flip it over and unzip it. "I thought you said it was packed to the gills." "Huh?" "Your suitcase. In the car you said you'd never find Stanley because it was packed so tightly. So where's he at?" Lesson #2. Never lie unless you're sure you can get away with it. Better yet, just never lie. "I...I..." Chuckling, he picks up his small bag and goes into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. I hear the water in the shower turn on. Thank God!!! I flop down on the bed. Badly in need of a cigarette, I hop up, grab my purse, the room key, and sneak outside for a quiet smoke. You WANTED this! He's awesome, you know this! What in the HELL is the matter with you? Inhaling deeply, I berate myself for acting like such a baby. He came all this way to see you! Now, grow up, get your butt in there, and do what you're told! A nervous giggle escapes. You can do this! Now, go! I go. When I re-enter the room, he's already out of the shower, steam billowing out of the open bathroom door, standing at the mirror wearing only a towel, combing his hair. deodorant and toothpaste on the vanity. Walking to the bed, I unpack my suitcase, hang a couple of things up, and sit on one of the chairs. I want a shower, too, so I gather up my bathroom things, and pass him by as he's exiting. A hand grabs me as I walk by, pulling me to him. He smells delicious. I'm going to do this. And I kiss him deeply, showing him how much I want him, and from the feel of things under his towel, he wants me, too. He lets me go, looks deep into my eyes with a promise of things to come, and I go to take my shower. Soaping my body up, my hand slides between my legs and a thrill of possibilities shoots through me like a cannonball. Slipping my soapy hands over my breasts, I think of him and pinch my nipples hard, stifling a groan of delight. Sudsing my hair, shampoo running down over my tightly closed eyes, a hand slips between my legs and two fingers slide inside my hot steamy pussy. O God! He's gotten in with me! My body stiffens in fear until I can talk myself down, remind myself that I was going to do this no matter what. And, dammit! I was gonna LIKE it! And I did. My back arched as I rinsed my hair while his hands roamed over my wet slippery body. Bending over to reach my conditioner, his finger slid up my butt crack causing me to gasp in astonishment since we'd discussed the fact that NO ONE would go near my butt. But God, did it feel good! I smiled hard as he stepped close behind me, allowing me to feel his desire pressing hotly against my bottom. O, I wanted him! Quickly, I applied conditioner to my hair and turned to face him, kissing him hard. And I kneeled before him, offering my mouth to him as any good sub would do. He accepted my offer gladly, and I heard a delighted gasp of pleasure as I took him into my mouth, licking and slurping as warm water cascaded over our bodies. I had to stop for a moment to admire it. It was something! A work of art, really. Perfectly formed, a little on the large side, but who's complaining there? The prettiest pale ivory color, like porcelain, pronounced veins buldging proudly. And his hair was soft and straight, like cornsilk. I stuck my tongue right into the eye and licked it. Opened my mouth and slid that baby in deep, sucking lightly on the outtake. Right away I realized that it'd take some time to be able to take him all the way into my mouth, but I was determined, and right there and then, I knew that this was the first of many times together. The way he teased me, and the way he loved my reactions told me something. The way we laughed together and the things we talked about told me more. I knew that this first time together would be simple, a preview of times to come, so I didn't worry anymore. I knew He'd take it slow and teach me. You know how when you're shopping for clothes and sometimes you see something you know you just have to have? Call it what you want. Fate. Divine intervention. Pure and simple lust. Yes, definitely lust. For now. I sucked him until the water went cold, and he held out, loving every minute of it. The conditioner rinsed out of my hair and we got out, towelling each other off, giggling like kids. The tension was broken and we proceeded to enjoy each other. He teased me mercilessly, demanded things from me I had never in my life imagined before. And I gave to Him as well as I could, but I'm learning. I learned what respect really was, and I gave it to Him, gladly. In the end, I offered Him my submission for real, and He accepted, and thanked me. ....SIGH.... I can't say enough how lucky I feel, having found my Master in the first Man I met under these circumstances. He is honorable, kind, considerate, and evil as hell, and I love it. I look forward to many, many more wonderful times with my Master. "kitten, go get Stanley." Loweing my eyes in total respect, I answer my Master with a smile, "Yes, Sir." Sometimes, you just know.