I was summoned recently. It was quite a surprise to me, to be called so abruptly and out of the blue. "How close are you?" He asked and I told him. Even as I finished I was altering my course to get to where he was. My heart began to pound, the worry began in my head about what I was wearing, how my hair was. My Sir has requirements about how I look - but I'd had no notice at all this time, no chance to prepare.
I was wearing shorts because of the heat, and a thin t-shirt. At a stop light, I undid my bra, sliding the straps down my arms and slipping it off beneath my shirt. My breasts ached and felt heavy - but it was a relief all the same as I threw my bra into the back seat.
A text came, telling me specifically where to be, where to wait for him, and for me to let him know when I arrived. My nipples began to ache ... while I drove I pulled out my hairbrush and ran it through my hair with one hand.
I parked in the corner as instructed and replied by text to him - "here". Then made my way to the spot I had been told to be. A door opened and he stepped out. Within moments he was upon me, his lips against mine before I could even murmur a hello. One hand held my hair in the way that melts me and my stomach began to do that thing it does whenever I'm nearby him. The way he touches me makes me feel small, owned, invaded. One hand in my hair is all it takes, but his other hand immediately went to my breast. I had a fleeting relief that I'd remembered and removed my bra - its expected, but would have been so easy to forget. I gasped as he grabbed a nipple - I'm used to his rough touch here, it pleases him to pinch and twist and pull while I squirm and whimper. I can almost feel him soaking up the noises I make - only this time he's not letting up.
The pain lasts the entire kiss, as his fingers turn and pull, my body alternating between pleasure and desire from his kiss to frantic sounds as I will myself to not struggle against his hand. The pain is ... delightful, sending itself down to my pussy. I try to pull my mouth away from his for a breath, so I can gasp or moan but he holds me there against him, each sound I make muffled by his mouth, his hand not letting up on my poor nipple.
He releases me from the kiss, and I gasp as my nipple is let go, the pain seems as much as if a nipple clamp had been on it. I still haven't said a word, barely had a look at him and my eyes are down now, drinking in the sensations and composing myself, preparing to meet the eyes of my Sir, feeling small and humble as I know he recognized what he does to me, how much power he has over my body, how I respond just with his nearness.
Before I look up, he is gone. "I love you" he says and his voice is deep and growly, sending chills up my back as I know the desire and intent behind it. But he's already back through the door - returned to his meeting or whatever business he had.
I'm left there to compose myself alone. To make my shaken and delirious way back to my car, to ponder the hot, wet readiness a few moments with him creates. My nipple is throbbing and erect, my lips ravished and very likely swollen. I taste him in my mouth still.
It's not until I arrive home that I realize I never got to say hello or even a single word.
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