Lida decided not to go through with our date plans. As I wrote,I was disappointed. I am disappointed. She’s just lovely, and our connection was a good one. I hate giving up on good connections, because they are so few and far between.
Here is one vision of what our second date might have looked like that I shared with her:
Between now and our date, I’d like to continue to own your orgasms. I’ll dole them out in a way that I think will please us both. I’d also like, as I asked, to see you in all of your bras and panties, so that I may choose what will please me most when we meet.
Over the course of the week, I’ll give you a few other assignments. Little ones. Intended to take advantage of the secret nature of your giving me your body to do with as I see fit. I’ll ask you to write me notes and leave them places, sending me photos of them. I’ll ask you to perform bodily tasks – touch your pussy, open your thighs – when others are around, but can’t possibly know what you’re doing, that you’re doing it for me. And other assignments, to be determined.
On the day of our date, I’ll tell you where to go. I’ll position you somewhere (a bar, probably) that I can see you, but that you, most likely, can’t see me. I’ll give you instructions. I’ll tell you what to drink, where to sit, how to position yourself. I’ll admire you. You’ll feel your pussy get wet as you know that you’re being watched by (at least, but almost certainly not just) me. And, as you anticipate, and execute, the various requests I give you by text/e-mail.
At some point, I’ll give you directions to leave. Maybe send you to a hotel room on your own, with instructions to execute while you wait for me. Maybe send you to a hotel room where you’ll find me waiting for you. Maybe send you to a hotel room where you won’t know what you’ll find when you get there.
I’m thinking that it might be particularly hot for us not to speak, at all, in person. (Or at least, for you not to speak). That perhaps I would simply use you and send you on your way.
There. That’s one vision.
(There’s more to this vision, of course. There’s me appreciating Lida wearing the clothes I’d picked out for her. There’s our first kiss, the first time I feel her ass in my hand, the first time I slide a finger into her soaking wet cunt, the first time I feel her tongue, her lips, on my cock. There’s the feeling of her hair gripped in my hand as I press her head down on my cock, as I buck and thrust my cock deep into her mouth. There’s the sensation of my cock sliding deep into her pussy, the sounds of her orgasms, the feeling of her orgasms, and the sensation of coming, deep in her throat.)
But none of that is to be, alas….