This is just a short little erotic story I wrote as an assignment for my potential Sir/Master/dominant/whatever you want to call him. I'm interested in him and his wife I stare out the small oval window, hearing the roar of the jet engines as the plane lands, butterflies in my stomach causing me to fidget. I know I'll get odd looks from people as we disembark, since I dressed to please him. My hands nervously dance along the hem of the short skirt I'm wearing, smoothing it out. The anticipation as everyone slowly shuffles their way off the plane leaves me nearly growling in annoyance. Eventually arriving at the top of the ramp, scanning the crowd looking for the two people I know are waiting for me. A huge smile blossoms on my face when I eventually spot who I'm looking for, and I hurry over, hugging them both tightly, exclaiming "I'm so fucking glad we finally are getting to meet!". With a smile and a blush I tentatively place a hand in each of theirs, beaming with joy. I chatter away, eager and animated as all three of us pick up my luggage and head to their car. Once settled in the vehicle and on the way to their house, I blush even more as I maneuver myself in the seat and remove the skimpy panties I'm wearing, offering them to him saying "I don't think I'll need these while I'm visiting, do you, Sir?" The instant we're through the door of his apartment I find myself pressed up against a wall, his fingers tangled through my hair, pulling my head to the side as my throat is assaulted with kisses, nibbles, and bites causing me to nearly melt into a puddle, glad of the firm grip on my silky locks. My heart is in my throat as I tremble, half afraid, half eager, knowing this is what I asked for, what I wanted, even if I never specifically said so. Caressing my hands up his back, one arm draped across his shoulders, my top is pushed down to expose my breasts. He tweaks my nipples, pinching and twisting, making me twitch. A soft whimper escapes my lips as his grip on my tresses tighten, his other hand resuming exploring, a brief touch on my hip, my outer thigh, then my legs are pushed apart, a finger delicately probing, testing how wet, how eager I am. I squirm, my eyes closed as a wave of humiliation washes over me. After one last particularly vicious bite low on my throat, he releases his grasp on me. "Strip naked. Now.", the tone of voice leaving no wiggle room. I take a step back, quickly slipping everything off, the discarded clothing scattered on the floor like petals from a wilting flower. Standing there anxiously as I am inspected, my eyes flick upwards briefly to glance at him, before I look at the carpeted ground once more. That one brief glance showed me a smile of approval before he spoke, "On your knees". Hastening to obey, I kneel, seeing him move closer from the corner of my eye. I lick my lips apprehensively as I hear a belt being unbuckled, the soft buzz of a zipper being undone. A hand rests gently on my head, belying the almost harsh words I hear next "Get to work, slut". Pressing my mouth to him, already slick with saliva on the currently flaccid cock, I bow my head slightly, devoting all my attention to pleasing. I part my lips, sucking lightly, teasing the glans with my tongue, first on top, then the cleft on the underside. Swallowing a bit nervously before taking as much of the silky soft length into my mouth as I can, reveling in the sensation of the flesh thickening, hardening, growing inside my mouth. I tease the base of the shaft with my tongue, swallowing some of the excess saliva, taking advantage of the extra maneuvering room before he is fully hard as long as I can. Soon enough the first reward for my careful attention is evident, I have to work at keeping most of the shaft in my mouth now. A quick deep breath, a tilt of the head and I push myself to swallow all of that hardness down my throat, the muscles convulsing slightly, tightening, stimulating. Forcing myself to stay like that for as long as I can, tongue still moving, giving as much pleasure as I'm able to, before I have to let the throbbing slippery organ slide mostly out of my throat and mouth. Easing up, a hand lightly stroking the lower portion, looking up eagerly to see if I'm doing well, the hand tightens in my hair, giving me a moment more to breath, before a thrust of the hips pushes him back inside. I lose myself in the sensations, taste, scent, the entire focus of my world narrowing to the man in front of me. The only thing telling me time is passing is the slowly growing ache in my jaw and throat. An abrupt movement and I'm left bereft, to see him stroking himself with his large, strong hands. "Lean back." And I do, my hands rising up to cup my breasts, arching my back, offering myself. Hot wet spurts splatter across pale golden-tan skin, the creamy liquid already starting to slowly trickle, like icing melting on some sweet that's too hot. "Good girl." I smile, basking in the praise, knowing I did well.