What I imagined the night we met...

It’s a perfect autumn day. I’m cruising down country roads, windows down, my car filled with the scent of firewood and dead leaves and some alternative rock band from the early 2000s blasting from my speakers.  Usually driving to spend the evening around a group of strangers would freak me out, but all I can think about is the wind licking my nipples through my tight shirt and hoping you’ll appreciate the display.

I pull up and park in the driveway, not too concerned with getting blocked in. I don’t plan on going home. A few people are already here, sitting out back. I shrug on my flannel to cover just a bit to be polite, grab my case of hard cider and the jug of my own jungle juice. I lug everything passed you has you hold the door open and I see you try not to look. I knew you’d try to be polite, but even as quick as the glance was, I saw it. It was all I needed. I didn’t even try to hide my grin.

***

Around the fire pit most people have chairs and a few of us are sitting on blankets on the ground. I sat across from you, so I have the perfect view. After my third refill of jungle juice, I start to feel more relaxed and more confident. I feel sexy. People are chatting, I’m politely chatting back. You see someone talking my ear off and smile apologetically. I smile back and shrug letting you know I’m fine.

After about an hour I casually look down at my phone, scroll to the sexy pics I took earlier this week. Choosing one of the more tame ones, I hit send.  Glancing over, I see you chatting with your friend, you look down at your phone, pause, snap your head back up and place the phone screen down on your lap. You keep talking, but you’re knuckles turn white on the phone.

I’m slightly inebriated and a little impatient, so I send a really sexy one. This time, I’m rewarded with a much longer stare. You fumble the phone, hide it quickly and stutter your next sentence. I catch your eye over the fire and I hold your gaze for a moment, maybe two. I strike up a conversation with the girl to my right, and pretend like nothing’s happened. I see you squirming and checking your phone. I think I’ll let you sweat a little. You keep checking your phone for something new, but I decide to make you wait.

I decide to be bold and watch as I send a message instead of a photo, what do you keep looking at your phone for? You check your phone so quickly I almost can’t contain my giggle. I’m biting my lip and staring at you.

You excuse yourself to the bathroom and I quickly send my most naughty photo. As you walk up the path to the house, you stop dead in your tracks. I think I see you adjust before you continue on the walkway.

I give it a minute or two, I finish my drink. I make a point to slurp any last drop audibly and go in for one more refill. I’m humming and dancing a little to the music from outside. The juice is gone so I’m searching the fridge for my cider. I hear footsteps behind me and stop in the doorway. I turn to find you leaning against the wall and watching me.

“Oh hey! I wondered where you’d gone.” I say casually, as if I couldn’t see your cock making your pants tighter.

“Oh hey?”  You chuckle, raise your eyebrows and rub the back of your neck, “an odd choice of words, all things considered.”

“And why is that?” I try to keep my voice innocent and hide my smile, but you catch it and it was all you needed to erase any doubt that you were imagining things. You take all of three steps to close the distance between us. You are standing so deliciously close to me. Smelling your cologne mixed with your essence immediately makes me weak. A shaky intake of air and my frozen muscles give me away.

You know you have me. You’re smirking because you know you do and the way I look at you tells you that I know, you know and we are paused in this perfect moment of anticipation. It could have been an hour that we stood there, or mere seconds. So much tension built up over these last few weeks, finally coming to a head. In this moment, we can feel things shift into something more, though neither of us would ever feel the need to put a label on it.

I feel my blood rushing to my face and neck; boiling. My nipples are hard and brush against your body with each inhale. I can feel myself wet.

“If I didn’t know any better, Miss Ciara, I’d say you were intentionally misbehaving.”

Fuck. Please say my name again.

You’re standing so close to me, staring down at me into my eyes. Looking up at you I bite my bottom lip. “Maybe…”

In an instant you grabbed me by my chin, roughly run your thumb across my bottom lip and raise your eyebrows expectedly at me. Your face is an inch from mine.

Oh fuck.

“Yes Sir, I am.” I’m already moaning. You cock you head and smile at me for a moment, thinking just how cute it is that you already have me. Thinking how much fun it’s going to be torturing me. Then your eyes focus again; back to business.

“Are you asking for a spanking, Ciara?”

“Yesss.” I’m a puddle.

“Right here. Hands on the table, legs apart and count for me.” You pull my shirt down and expose my heavy tits. You open a drawer and pull something out. A wooden spoon. You slide my leggings down easily and suddenly I’m entirely exposed, vulnerable to be seen by anyone who might come inside for a refill or to take a piss. It was frightening, and I loved it.

I hear you moan and I know you’ve discovered that I left my panties at home, with my bra, “Such a good girl,” You can’t help yourself. Your fingers wander up my thigh to explore my pussy, “Shit…” as you feel how tight I am, and how wet I’ve already gotten.

“Now count. Out Loud.” 

Thwack.

You waste no time before I feel that delicious sting.

“One.”

Thwack.

Thwack.

“Two, three…” Please don’t let anyone walk in and interrupt this… this is amazing.

Thwack.

The fourth is much harder, with a purpose. I can feel it start to welt instantly. “Four…” My legs begin to shake and my breath catches, but I know better than to flinch or pull away.

Thwack.

To be continued…