He looked so, well, vanilla. His online profile sounded like someone had been pondering on what he wanted for long enough and now wanted to see if he could fulfil his fantasy. It helped that his picture was cute and I was bored that weekend. I always stir up trouble when I'm between challenges.
We exchanged some emails through the site, and he wasn't really floating my boat. When he pushed I backed off, when he cooled it I flirted - you know the game.
The turning point was the email he sent describing his fantasy. It was deliciously dirty and I wanted to see if he lived up to the visual he had created for me. This very straight guy, very Essex, wanted to be dragged from his car by four men, pushed to the floor and fucked! Lovely, another anal virgin for me perhaps?
I sent him my mobile number, I wanted to hear what he sounded like, too estuary and it wouldn't matter how cute/dirty he was. Voices along with hands are key for me.He sounded good and we agreed to meet at my local pub.
I was early and he was late.I had been toying with the idea of taking him home but I hate lateness, it makes me mean. Anyone will tell you you don't want me mean. I had sat out in the sunshine of the pub garden and watched him as he walked out looking around. It was interesting to see his face as he first caught sight of me. He had only seen a picture of my rubber clad bottom.
He was clearly nervous so to make sure he stayed that way I told him to go change into the knickers I had taken out of my bag and to bring me back his pants. I was looking at his groin and although now very uncomfortable the suggestion was having the desired effect.
It was an auspicious start to an afternoon of candles, spankings and the fingering that was to lead to kitkat getting his name. In the end he could have been anyone, but then i guess, so could I?
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