We met for breakfast. A cup of coffee in a lame-ass coffee shop. Our date was early.
Shelby had a [insert drink here]. I had a cappuccino. And a chocolate croissant. I’ve been losing weight, but I was planning on burning some calories.
After breakfast, I took Shelby to a hotel. I checked us in. Brought her upstairs.
I had asked her to give me some clothing choices. She had failed. Life gets in the way, often, with Shelby’s doing as I ask. She wants to. She tries. But if I ask her for anything other than something she can do easily, and now, chances are as good as not that I won’t get what I seek.
She had given me one choice. And told me there was a 50-50 chance I wouldn’t get to make any choice – she had a date the night before. A real date. And she might well spend the night. Though – she promised me – there wouldn’t be sex. [I didn’t believe her. I was right. She did spend the night. She did have sex. But, in Shelby’s favor – she was on time for our ungodly early morning date.]
She didn’t wear her choice. Instead, she was in leggings. A crop top. A bra.
Somehow, Shelby is exempt from the jealousy by which I’m so easily tortured. I don’t care who she fucks. I don’t care when she fucks them. I just. Want. Her. Ass.
At breakfast, we established some rules: bruises? Ok. Other pain? Sure. Limits? Um, no.
I told her she should say “orange” if she needed me to pause. “Red,” if she need things to stop.
I had packed a kit of rope.
Once we were in the room, I was torn: did I want her nude? Or dressed? Did I want to undress her? To watch her undress herself?
In the event, I went with a combination of all of the above. We were in the same hotel, with the same stage, that Charlotte and Sarah and I had been in just a few weeks earlier. “Get up on that stage,” I said.
She did as asked.
“Take off your top,” I said.
She did as asked.
“Touch your pussy a little for me,” I said. I like Shelby’s thighs. I like seeing her hands on her clit between them.
Shelby did as asked.
“Get down,” I growled.
Shelby got down. I tossed her on the bed. Hard. Turned her body so she was on her belly, her head off the foot of the bed. I bound her hands behind her back, her ankles to her thighs. (She still wore her leggings.)
I stood in front of her, and stroked my cock through my jeans.
After just a minute or two, I sprung my cock free, and dragged it across her lips.
Her range of motion, Shelby inclined her hungry mouth toward me. I withheld my cock, not ready to feed it to her.
I untied her ankles/thighs long enough to pull her leggings and panties off, roughly. (I hadn’t gotten permission to destroy any clothing, but I wanted to fucking shred that shit.)
I flipped her over on her back, and tied her ankles and thighs once more, positioning them such that they were open, wide, giving me full access to her pretty (shaven) cunt. [Ed. note: I really really prefer pubic hair.]
That’s where this particular portion of the date ends….