Disclaimer : This is not -yet- a true story. Let's call it anticipation rather than pure fiction though. Oh, and, yes, I take my time before getting to the fun parts Part 1 is there
I soon found her, her curvy figure hugging the yellow sundress I asked her to wear for her meeting. She bought this dress a few months ago as a treat for me, knowing the air of innocence the dress gave would please me. My heart bumped wildly in my chest as I walked towards her, careful to keep my composure, hiding as much as I could from my exhaustion and tension. As she finally saw me and smiled timidly, I increased my pace, dropping my small suitcase as I reached her, feeling the urge to kiss her.
Yes, kiss her. For all the kinky stuff I made her do, all the places I wanted to touch her, what I really wanted in these first few instants was to feel her lips against mine, see her eyes close as we embraced each other. And boy, was this a long, intense, wonderful kiss. I have a hard time remembering that airport, or what happened around us. Anyone could have grabbed my suitcase and left with it without me noticing anything.
I only remember the sweetness of her lips, the smoothness of her hair … We broke our embrace for a second, smiled at each other, and resumed kissing, our tongues meeting each other, desire arising in the midst of this tender moment. My hand was now getting from her hair to her hips, her ample, sensual hips, toned a bit by the work-out I had assigned her lately, then grabbing her ass cheeks, my dominant instincts rushing back at full speed as I felt a bulge growing in my pants.
I finally broke our kiss and locked my eyes into hers. « Hi, whore » was my whole contribution to our conversation at that moment, but the way she looked at me through her glasses before replying, in a shaky voice, « Hi, Sir », told me everything I had to know, casting away all fears. any fatigue forgotten. I grabbed my suitcase, and asked her to get me to her car.
I followed her outside the terminal, checking mentally for any mistake she might have made in the outfit I had demanded her. The dress and patent leather heels, the make-up and hairs were meeting my expectations, and I had felt while kissing her that she didn’t wear any bra. She also was walking with a controlled, sensual swaying of her hips – I had wondered wether she could actually walk properly in heels, and was happy to see she was doing that well, mesmerizing me with the clicking sound of the heels and the swaying of her figure, exhaling a confidence I wasn’t sure I would find in her. She was perfect, matching my requests and expectations to the letter.
We finally reached her car –in the middle of the parking lot, it offered no privacy. I dropped my suitcase in the trunk, and turned towards Layla, telling I’d be driving, and asking for her keys. I wanted to remind her I was in control, and expected also to play with her during the two-hour drive to her town in relative safety. She had only a fraction of an hesitation before she said « Yes, Sir » in a trembling tone, handing me the keys.
The tenderness I felt upon meeting her was overruled by my desire to own her, and I wanted to push the game further now. The first time I dared ordering her to remove her panties for me while at work, she had confessed, with a bit of embarassment, that she usually didn’t wear any panties. It was one of those key moments of our relationship, where I craved even more to control and use this superb slut, and got frustrated at not being able to push her boundaries further.
Since then, I kept choosing her underwear for her, making her wear underwear more often than not, if only to make us both feel I was in control. I had chosen for her, for our first meeting, a minimalistic, sheer black g-string, and I asked her if she was wearing it, as requested. Again, she replied with a « Yes, Sir » filled with her need to be controlled, to obey. As the parking lot was quiet, I asked her to show me, my voice made harsher by my desire to control her. She stared wildly at me, at the open space around her where anyone could see her, then back at me, filled with dread and shame. « Now, whore », I insisted,in my sterner voice. She finally answered with a timid « yes, Sir », her head looking down to me, but grabbing her dress nonetheless to lift it up to her belly, revealing her thighs and the sheer g-string that barely covered her crotch. I was taken out of my moment of contemplative rapture by her timidly asking « Can I put it down, Sir, people might be coming ?», nodded my agreement and opened the passenger door for her, inviting her to sit, reminding her that I wanted her ass to be in direct contact with the seat. She obliged, making exaggerated gestures, taking care not to sit on her dress. I closed her door and seated myself.
She had made no mistakes so far. Well, almost none, and I knew I had a lever that would allow me to make the trip profitable. I my instructions for the meeting, I had ordered her to insert a remote control egg in her for our meeting, and, though I had no reason to doubt she did, I still hadn’t the remote.
I turned to her, smirking, as I turned the engine on. « Are you sure you didn’t forget anything, whore ? »
Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/2cbvcg/visiting_arkansas_part_2_mfbdsmmdomfsubstr8