I fidget nervously, adjusting my outfit for the 10th time. I'm wearing a black sheer skirt, short in front and longer in the back. It's solid to about mid thigh, and then sheers out. As I pace back and forth it floats around me like a black mist. Your flight is exactly seven minutes and twenty seconds late. Twenty one. Twenty two. I shake my head to not think about it. The others in the waiting area occasionally glance at my irritated state. There are seats but after driving 6 hours to Toronto to meet you, there is no way I can sit for another minute. My ass and legs are aching from the trip. I smile. I'm sure you will have my ass aching and stinging even more later.
The flight screen updates before my eyes. I feel my stomach climb into my throat in excitement as I see Flight 670 from Amsterdam has changed status from "on time" to "arrived". I feel a sudden warmth flood through my body. You're here. You're really here. I let out a squeal of excitement, patting my hair quickly to make sure it is in place. It's all clipped up into an expensive Ficcare.
My hair is my most valuable asset. It's long, but I intend to grow it much, much longer. A coppery red, not too bright but it practically glows in sunlight. You adore my hair. You've told me many times. I keep it tucked away for this meeting, because it is for you and you alone. Once we get somewhere private I will let you run your fingers through it and marvel at it's new length. I've not shown you how it's grown the last several months. I wanted it to be a surprise for you. I'm a fairly average woman, average height and weight. Ok, maybe slightly more voluptuous than what is considered ideal, but there is some solid muscle underneath those curves from lifting stretchers. My eyes are a hazel green, a fact you like to remind me of. I'm not sure why you like my eye color so much, but you say you do so I must accept it as truth.
I see people streaming into the lobby. I stand on tippy toes, trying to see beyond the tall business men who sat in coach and got off the plane first. It's a sea of people on that large international flight, and most of them are tall and blond. Despite that I instantly find you as you come into view. You are wearing a simple t shirt and jeans, and converse sneakers. Your vibrant blue eyes burn a hole through me as you walk down the terminal towards me. I know you've recognized me.
My breath hitches as you quickly clear the last fifty feet with long strides, roller bag luggage in tow. You stop right in front of me, staring down. I take a deep breath. Damn, you're tall. We'd figured going from meters to feet that you would be a bit taller, but standing in front of you like this is nearly terrifying. I say nearly because you crack a smile. I can tell you're just as nervous as me, and that relaxes me a bit.
"Hey schatje" you speak softly. I blush as you call me by the endearment. I love when you speak Dutch to me. I stare up at you, waiting for you to do something. Slowly you put your arm around me, hand tipping my chin upwards. You bend forward and give me a kiss. Your mouth is a bit sweet and I smile.
"Had some wine?"
You smile a bit. "Yes, just on the plane. Shall we go eat? You're hungry aren't you?"
I nod happily and we walk out to where I am parked. I pull out my iPhone and bring up the maps. I hit start, and Siri immediately starts directing me to the restaurant's address I had already saved into my phone. You cock an eyebrow at me but say nothing.
Dinner is uneventful, we both manage to behave ourselves long enough to get some food.
"I am glad you're eating well, you'll need your strength."
I nearly choke on my food as you start speaking with a thick accent. I'm not sure if it was the nerves or you were doing it on purpose, knowing I have a weakness for your voice, especially when your accent is thick.
Learning a language can be strange. Some times when you talk to me I forget English was your second language. Other times your accent is so heavy I ask you to repeat yourself a few times. You were in Italy last week with your family, speaking Dutch constantly, so it's no wonder your accent is so heavy now. I don't mind. I squirm a bit, my pussy is getting warm as you tell me about the flight and your week in Italy. I stare at you. Not an aggressive stare but one of appreciation. I'm memorizing every detail of your face. I smile, noticing the glasses imprint on the bridge of your nose. You must have taken them off and put your contacts in before meeting me.
I jump when you touch my hand. Your hand is mostly smooth, with just a bit of roughness on the palm from gardening. The heat and sensation of skin jolts through me, making my heart pound. You notice my reaction, and lean forward. Your voice is rich and harsh as you whisper in my ear.
"Dus lief, wat wil je dat ik doe? Wil je dat ik je broek naar beneden trek en ik je vinger of wil je dat ik je hard and diep neem?"
I start panting a bit, my eyes darkening in lust as my mind slowly translates what you said. You've taught me some dutch, but I am far from fluent. I know just enough to understand that you are asking me if I want to be fingered or fucked hard and deep and I feel clenching in my stomach as my pussy drips. I whimper your name, using the dutch pronunciation and give a pleading look.
"Take me." I whimper so softly I am afraid you didn't hear it. You smirk and I notice the waiter is standing at the table. You hand him your newly acquired Visa card. You obtained one just to use here. He hurries off to get our tab paid, and I flush with embarrassment. Your fingers are rubbing my palm firmly, and I swallow hard at the expression on your face. After the waiter returns the card you promptly stand, grasping my hand tightly and pulling me out of my seat. You are firm but not rough. Your hand grazes my ass and I can feel it's heat through my thin skirt. It comes to rest on my hip and you guide me out to the car. You follow me to the drivers side, and instead of helping me in you pin me to the side. I feel your leg pressing between mine.
"Open." You growl into my ear. I oblige and gasp as your leg puts pressure directly onto my clit. Your teeth nip my ear and I moan loudly. You're panting a bit as you kiss your way to my mouth. The kiss is tentative at first, but I quickly open my mouth to you. I gasp as you put your tongue into my mouth aggressively, claiming it as yours. I feel the tip of your tongue slide over the roof of my mouth and I cry into your mouth in pleasure. My panties are soaked now and we both know it. You back off suddenly. I stare at you confused, what have I done wrong?
"Sir?" I ask softly.
"Drive." I shiver at your accented voice and I hurry to get in. A second later you're sitting next to me and strapping in. As we're driving you compliment my ability to drive a stick shift, your hand resting over mine on the knob. Slowly that hand moves to my leg, sliding my skirt up, sliding between my thighs to my hot wet pussy. You chuckle a bit.
"Mmm, can't wait to get a taste of that pussy."
I smirk, putting my dutch to good use.
"Je bent geil?" I ask, out of the corner of my eye I can see you pitching a tent in your pants. I already know the answer.
"Yes.. I am very horny for you, kitty."
I pant a bit, and pull into the hotel parking lot a bit recklessly.
"Easy girl..." You growl in displeasure. I slow down and park safely, feeling a bit scolded. You seem to have forgotten it though, and before I know it you're knocking on the trunk waiting for me to unlock it. I push the button on my key fob, and it pops open. You haul out your luggage and close it. Beep beep. I lock my car. Your hand grabs mine and we walk in. I lead you to our room. I checked in earlier, making sure it was suitable for you before you arrived. You had put the room into my name for that very purpose.
I open the door and lead you in, immediately removing my shoes. You smirk at my habit and clumsily cast your luggage into the room. I hear the door close behind us. You turn and lock it. I gulp. You see me shake and chuckle softly.
"Yes, you're locked in here. Good thing I'm not a wolf." Playfully I nip at your neck.
"No, you're a fox." I tease and we both giggle a bit at the inside joke.
"Right then. I think I need a shower first before we start." Straight to business, I like it.
"How about a bath?" I suggest. You raise an eyebrow.
"Sure." I go into the bathroom, quickly filling the tub. I considered filling it before I left but realized the water would be tepid at best when we returned. I quickly added some essential oils of patchouli, sweet orange and lemongrass to scent the water and rejuvenate your skin. I call you in and you give me a pat on the head.
"Smells nice. Good girl. Now run along and unpack my things while I get relaxing."
I nod, happy to please. I had showered before going to meet you, and was still quite fresh. I unpacked some of your clothes, laying them out on the desk for you. I yanked the heavy blankets off the bed. They'd only get in our way. I go to the bathroom door and pause. I really dislike being separated. I knock softly. I hear you chuckle.
"Hm, is there a kitten scratching at my door?" You ask.
"Can I join you? I'd love to wash you and-"
"Well get in here then!" You interrupt. Joy flows through me and I strip at the door, my silken shaved body slipping past the curtain to join you. Your eyes go straight for my pussy, and I notice you licking your lips. I sit between your legs, grabbing a wash cloth and gently rubbing your shoulders. As I get close you steal a kiss from me.
"I can't believe you're finally here.." I whisper.
"Better believe it because I'm going to be fucking you all night." I pant softly, and I notice you taking a deep breath. My panting is getting to you. I glance down and notice your cock peeking up above the water. I lick my lips and stare, you'd shown me some pictures but it looked proportionate to your tall, broad frame. But seeing it now, like a snake rising from the water...it looked so thick and long. I whimper loudly, and I can't control my panting. You tip my head up to look you in the eyes.
"You'll have my cock soon. I promise. But first, show my your beautiful hair."
I smile, reaching up to set my hair free. I set the clip down outside the tub as my hair tumbles down well past my shoulders. You nod your approval, leaning forward you run your fingers through it. Somehow you've managed to keep them dry. I relax to your touch, letting out a sigh of delight as you rub my scalp.
