topcat
Posts: 1675
Joined: 1/31/2004
From: Tidewater, VA
Status: offline
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Bailey beat me to posting our first meeting, so, better late than never...
With Bailey actually here in town, my veneer of ‘domly cool’ went like a beer bottle under a semi’s tires. I had to clean the place, check the fridge, and decide what to wear, pack and repack, just be nervous and flaky in general. I ended up leaving way too late, and got almost to Sunrise Hwy. before I realized I forgot my phone, so I turned back.
I finally got into the city, and despite my confident “ I know where it is…” I couldn’t find the hotel. I called her, late, and left a message on her voicemail. She called about twenty minutes later, and the first thing she said was “didja get cold feet?” in this sad little voice- I felt such a bastard for being late.
I told her I was around the block, and she gave me the cross streets (I was looking a block too far west). I got to the door and called up. She came down.
I had seen pictures, had a good sense of her from her writing, but the face to face is always a bit weird. I rather clumsily hugged her and said it was going to be OK- it was tough knowing that she was likely as nervous as me, and not being sure of her comfort level with my instinct to comfort her- some times all this stuff gets in the way. Here was this amazing woman who had flown cross-country to meet me, and I was hoping I was the man she had come to meet.
It’s a bit of a blur- that first bit. She was coming off as sweet and smart as she did online, and we agreed in short order to dump my bag and go for sushi. In retrospect, I think she was giving me the lead, it being more of my town, and I was hanging back from taking it, not wanting to seem to assume dominance this early in the game, afraid of seeming too unsure, too weak.
We went for Sushi and talked and talked and talked, riding back uptown to her hotel after eating, going up to her room, finding our rhythms together. I worked hard at being There, being as much me as I could, not crossing any lines, or projecting any expectations. After a while, she said it was late enough that we had to decide if we were going to paddles or not- I told her I’d like to. She wanted to, also. I also gave her the cuffs I’d made for her, and the collar, asking only that she remember that it came from my hand, and held a piece of my heart.
She quickly dressed, offering me options as to her outfit, displaying not just her excellent recall of what I had said, but a deep intuition of what I liked, and we headed off to the club. She ended up with black lycra shorts and a sports bra, with a LBD in black stretch velvet and rhinestones tucked into her leather jeans for the ride over. She looked cute, sexy, ready to go for it, and she looked like the girl who belonged with me.
Already I was eager to work with her, afraid of pushing to hard, excited not just at the thought of working (it was over three years since I had worked in public) but really wanting to work with her.
The place was really empty- I still can’t figure out where everyone was- maybe TFW? There were only about a dozen people in the place when we got there, and no one I knew. I had hoped to strut my rep a little - so much for small plans of small mans. It was good in retrospect- more of a crowd and more people I knew would have been a distraction from her, and focus and rapport we achieved might have suffered.
We walked about the place- it was empty enough that I just dropped my bag, and left it there. We ended up sitting in the upper ‘lounge’, and talking, half watching someone working on the table there.
As we talked, I could feel her relaxing more and more, our focus narrowing on each other, our gazes lingering more, and I asked if she was going to trust me, and she responded, “do you trust me?” (That’s even better than “yes” <g>). She excused herself to the ladies room (I directed her to the wrong end of the club, but she asked directions of a lady at the bar. I ran down, bought two more bottles of water, and sorted through my accoutrements and implements as I waited for her return. I move her chair back right against the railing as my mind clicked over, mentally running through the scene ahead.
I leaned in to kiss her the first time, and it was good, easy, kissing Bailey. From stroking her face, my hands went to the back of her head, and I felt her relax into me as we kissed. I just went into it, into her letting the world narrow to the places our bodies touched, letting my mind split off a bit to watch the room, and plan the work ahead as the rest of me discovered the country that was Bailey.
I turned towards her and sat straddling her lap in the chair, holding her back to the railing, feeling her arch and grind against me, her responses speaking of her hunger as it quickened. I let my weigh settle into her, letting her feel my hardness against her as our hands roamed. I cuffed her, right wrist and left. I offered her ‘enough’ as a safeword, and made her say it back to me twice, as I brought her hands back to the line I had placed at the railing, making them fast, and strapping her upper arms to take some of the weight, to secure her upper body more firmly so I could use the knife.
I had lost the CRKT ‘Walker’ knife at some point while going out to dinner, so the knock off Balisong was in my hip pocket. Kissing her again, I drew it and flipped it open. (I heard a hushed exclamation from someone in the area -we had begun to draw an audience, though it was only five or six people at this point). I ran the blade around her face and neck, letting her feel the point, the sharpness of the edge, as I tested it against her skin. My hand at her throat felt her pulse quicken yet again, and her eyes drooped shut as her breath softened.
I worked the point into the fabric of the dress, cutting it away, bit by bit, till it was just a rag between her and the chair, going to work on the bra and shorts till she was just wearing a sort of tattered thong, my free hand and mouth toying with her skin as she was exposed to me for the first time.
She was ready. I was ready. Luckily, no one had jumped on the vertical rack that was about twelve feet straight in front of our chair (I hate it when that happens!), and I lead her to it, bringing her arms up to the chains, finding her stance, checking in. I have no idea of what I actually said at these moments, and it really isn’t important. I am just checking the connection, giving her my voice, touching her in her ear….
It is always a little blurry at this point. I am thinking of establishing flow and rhythm, deciding my entering stoke, and I can’t say often which implement I actually take it with. I likely grabbed the gutted cord double floggers- they are versatile, distinctive and make a good warm up. Being double, they are a bit showy, too, and at this point the group watching had grown a bit to perhaps eight or nine, and were openly watching our work…
It is difficult to open without seeming tentative, especially with a new partner- our connection was clear and unmistakable at this point, I knew she was experienced (experienced enough to be a challenge), but I wanted it to strong and confident, to make the first strike knock her into that sudden awareness that it begins here, that she is restrained, that she really is in my hands, and at my mercy.
I laid in with the floggers, working out from the sweet spot, back into the middle, gauging her responses, her twitches (right, up, and in, at first), finding a cadence that I can work off of.
I moved in hard, backed off, moved around, winding her up and letting her down. She noted later that I follow the music, but don’t let it lead me, which is a cool thing for her to notice, and was good all around. I’d step in to check her, to sooth and encourage, when needed. At one point, I wrapped the doubles around her breasts a few times, and once actually hit her face- I moved in immediately to check her, and she was shook, but OK, thank god. When I felt I had a good grip on her I drove her hard a few times, and she took it like a champ, her body telling me it was almost too much, then offering herself for more.
In retrospect, going by the markings, I wasn’t as symmetrical as I’d have liked to be, though I was trying for it in the moment. I should have worked her back a bit more, and her inner thighs, but all in all, I was pretty satisfied when I cut her down. She was swoony, all soft and fuzzy, just beautiful. Her legs felt a little wobbly, and I was worried about her foot, so I swept her up and carried her to the chair, staying close settling her down gently. The crowd was now about twelve or so, watching intently, and the Lady that had directed her to the ladies room intruded to compliment us on how well we worked together, adding that she could tell we’d been together a long time. Bailey surfaced enough to say ‘I just met him tonight!’ and I added that it was our first scene, as Bailey slid under. I watered her, stroked her hair, thanking her as she thanked me incoherently (it’s so nice to have that). I put the bag back together, staying close, watching, touching, and kissing her, feeling that glow.
We went back to the room, stopping for some girl chow, both of us glowing, she all fuzzy, and me as sharp as razors. We settled into bed as comfortably as I could imagine, and she sweetly gave me everything.
We slept past noon.
_____________________________
-there is no remission without blood-
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BaileyThorne - 
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Do you have another meeting planned?
Thank you for sharing. 
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