Anticipation by Rebel Mistress

Anticipation

Anticipation. Yeah - that's it. That's the word that describes how I'm feeling right now perfectly. Who would have thought? You hear about these "computer romances" all the time, but I guess it's kinda like terminal illness - you always think, "that will never happen to me!" It started out simple enough I guess. A conversation through instant messages. Asking tons and tons of the traditional questions. "Where are you from?" "What do you do?" "How old are you?" Even doing the exchange of pictures. Then somehow, someway, our conversation that first night had drifted to sex. Not that that's unusual, I don't mind talking about sex, in fact I really enjoy it, but the way our conversation initially flowed, it didn't seem like it would take that route. But it did. And then I mentioned that I liked phone sex. And then it became obviously inevitable that we would share that intimacy together. Ten minutes later I found myself on the phone with this incredibly sexy voice, that belonged to a man that I had never met, never spoken to, or even chatted with before that night. We talked about everything.... life, relationships, the weather, my dog, your job, my job. Each of us would throw in these cute little sexual innuendoes. Then the conversation became more intense. And when you came out and said, with your voice full of passion and lust, "I just love pussy. I love to lick it, eat it, fuck it, smell it. I just love pussy." It was at that moment I felt my heart drop and I knew we had some sort of chemistry. It was like each of us brought out in the other some inner being that was lust driven for sex. It was intoxicating.....

After that we couldn't get enough of each other. It all happened so fast. The phone sex was of such a different level than I had ever experienced. It was incredible. As a result both of us would make remarks about how incredible it would be to physically fuck. You even told me that you wanted to fly down here, that you wanted us to meet. And I said yes, but I never in my wildest dreams thought it would happen. As great as the phone sex was, that conservative side of me probably would have backed off if I had thought for an instant you were serious. My problem is I always think of consequences. And I've never been one for casual sex. I guess that's why I enjoyed phone sex so much. It offered the thrill of being with different men, without any of the risks. But when you told me you had purchased the ticket, and that in two weeks you would be here, my heart kind of stumbled and as happy as I was to be meeting you, I was full of fear.

We made the plans. One of our biggest "trials" was figuring out how to find each other in the airport. So I suggested that I send you a t-shirt that you could wear with jeans. This way I would recognize the t-shirt and know immediately that it was you. We both thought that this would work out well, so I packaged up a gray t-shirt and put the postal service to work. A few days later you called. You had received the package. Now all we had between us was time.

Thus the anticipation. Right now I am sitting in the Ft Lauderdale airport, waiting for you to walk out of that long tunnel. Damn - I'm still scared. Over the past two weeks I thought I had done a pretty decent job of convincing myself that this is no big deal. We meet, we do lunch. Hell - I live close enough - we could even do Disney World. But now, with nothing but a few minutes separating us, all the fear comes back, except this time they are intensified by my insecurities. Does my outfit look okay? What if you think I'm ugly? What if you don't look like you did in the picture? What if you have dirty teeth???? (okay - so I'm anal about teeth) I'm actually contemplating leaving. My stomach is turning in knots. I don't know why I'm so scared. Yes, I do. I have high expectations, and I'm sure you do too. What if we don't meet up to each others expectations. My thoughts are just running rampant, my palms are sweating now, and I, Ms. Ice Queen, am burning up under this pressure. Then all thoughts stop, as I see a t-shirt that I recognize. I'm too scared to adjust my focus to look at you entirely. Instead I let me eyes drift down, I see the black belt, your denim jeans. Damn - even if it turns out your face isn't all that, you sure do fill out those jeans nicely. My eyes continue down and I see your black bucks. Then my eyes hit blue carpet. I feel like my eyes are a camera, and now I'm starting to zoom out. Now I see your entire body, and then my eyes dare to go up to your face. I can't believe it. I look again. Now I'm ready to run. Not because you are ugly. I find you so ruggedly handsome. I want to run because now I'm scared of what you will think of me. Surely someone this attractive won't find "me" sexy???? I stand up, my knees almost buckle. I do my best to summon up courage, damnit I actually feel like I could cry. This is so awkward!!! I begin to walk towards you, and I turn the power off to my mind. If I don't think maybe this will be easier. I'll just walk right up to you like I own the world and introduce myself. I dare to look back at your face, and our eyes connect. Recognition dawns in your eyes, you had seen my picture, so you know what I look like, but there's still some confusion. Like you aren't "sure" this is me. Hell - right now I'm not sure this is me. But I continue to hold your gaze anyway as I walk closer. I offer my hand for you to shake, and I say something like, "Hi Robert, I'm Michele." But you just look at me. You don't take my hand. Fear is clutching my chest. Holy shit. I don't meet up to your expectations. I'm going to be rejected right here in the airport. My life will never be the same again. Then I hear that voice, that familiar voice, that voice that used to describe all the wonderful things it would like to do to my body, and that voice says, "silly silly girl, I don't want a handshake, I want a hug," and I feel you pull me closer to your body. I know my body is stiff. You must think I'm frigid. Then all at once the tension releases, as I realize everything went okay, that you don't think I'm Medusa, and I feel the warmth of your arms as they envelope my body, and now I feel free to slide my hands around your stomach and onto your back, and I lay my head on your shoulder, and I whisper into your ear, "I'm glad you're here."

Now everything is happening in a whirlwind. We go find your luggage. I ask you about your flight. You tell me about the old man you were stuck next to on the flight and how badly he snored. We're laughing and joking. I can't believe how easy this is. It's phenomenal!!! We're talking like we are long lost best friends. By now we're at my car, and I open up the trunk us you put your luggage into the back. I ask you if you're hungry, but you say not really. Damn - there goes my plans for dinner. You tell me you just want to relax. I ask if you want to go by my place, maybe have a blockbuster night with popcorn. Your face lights up with a smile, and you say, "sure, that sounds perfect."

So we're driving down I-95, heading back up to Delray, where I live. I ask you where you have a room at, and you tell me you booked a suite at the Marriott off of A1-A. I tell you that the area down there is real now, and it's close to my apartment, which will be convenient. I ask you if you're still planning to leave on Sunday, and you shake your head. It's Wednesday night now.

"So are there any movies you want to see?" I ask.

"Not really - whatever you pick is fine with me."

"Well do you have in favorite actors or actresses?"

"Not really, as long as they are good." I look out the corner of my eye to see you grinning at me. I take my exit off of 95.

"I like Julia Roberts and George Clooney." I say.

"Cool - I like them too."

"Have you ever seen the movie Pretty Woman? Of course you have - "everyone has seen that movie."

"Actually - I haven't."

I can't believe it!!!! I'm flabbergasted. "What do you mean you have never seen Pretty Woman??? That is an all time best movie! That's it - we'll watch Pretty Woman. I have it at home so we don't even have to rent it."

"It better be good."

"Don't worry - you'll love it."

We turn into my apartment complex. As I stick the card onto the metal slot, I hear you say, "this is nice - it's the kind of place I imagined you would live in."

I make the first left into the parking lot behind my building. I park the car and ask you if you need anything out of the trunk, and you pause, think for a minute, and tell me no. We get out the car, I lock the doors, and we walk around to the right of the building to the other side, where the entrance is to my apartment. We walk up the stairs, and I insert the key into the slot, turning it. "Here we are - home sweet home." My dog Tino (short for Valentino) is there waiting anxiously to start jumping on your legs, happy to finally have someone there to play with. "Why don't you take a seat while I get you something to drink. What would you like?"

"Actually, a nice glass of ice water would be great. I don't feel like anything more."

I reach into the pantry and pull out a bag of microwave popcorn, and I place it in the microwave, punch a few buttons, and it starts to heat up. I pull out a glass, put some ice in it, and pour some water. I walk over to the couch. "Here you are! One glass of ice cold water."

You glance up into my eyes, and for the first time since the airport I get nervous. After all, here you are, a complete stranger, inside my living room, drinking from my glass, petting my dog, sitting on my couch. This is too much. And then you say, "Michele, I'm so glad I came." and I smile, then say, "Let me go check on the popcorn."

I wait until there are just a few seconds between the pops, praying that it would continue to pop forever. As casual as things are right now, the situation is still very awkward. Then I press stop, open the door, and carefully take the bag out. I hold it away from me as I open it up, leery of the hot air that is bursting out in mad fury. Then the aroma of the buttery popcorn fills the room. I reach into the cabinet, pull out a big wooden bowl, and pour the popcorn inside. Before heading back into the living room, I grab another glass and pour myself some apple juice.

I set the popcorn and my drink on the coffee table, and I walk up to the t.v. I sit down on the floor and open up the cabinet where I keep the movies. I find Pretty Woman and I pull it out with a flourish. "This, my friend, is the best movie you could ever see!!!"

"Yeah yeah yeah - you better hope so - and I'm warning you now I'm not into chick flicks."

I take a seat on the couch (I have a hunter green sectional) and pull up the recliner as the previews begin.

Before too long you get involved with what's going on in the movie, and I take this chance to start stealing little looks. I glance up at your face. You're so handsome. I don't know how to describe it. You don't have model looks, you don't really have what some would call a pretty face. But you're handsome. You have that rugged kinda look. I think the same thing of Harrison Ford. He's not really pretty, but he's so ruggedly sexy. I'm scared that you'll catch me staring, so I look back towards the television and start watching the movie.

Neither one of us say another word until we're about, hmmm... maybe 45 minutes into the movie. Then you ask me to pause it.

I pause the movie.

You say, "Explain to me again, why won't she kiss him??"

"Because kissing is such an intimate act. It's easy to fuck, to just let a cock slide inside of you, but kissing, that's different. It's so emotional, and intimate, and that's why she won't do it." Our eyes lock.

"I guess I understand," you say slowly, "a kiss just holds so much more passion."

Our eyes are still locked.

"Exactly," I say very softly, "it's just more.... uhhh....more passionate."

I sense you hand coming up, and I look down to see your hand coming up towards my cheek. I look back up into your eyes.

"Michele?" you ask.

I exhale. "Yes?"

You just look at me.

And I look back.

Your hand is sliding over my cheek, down to my neck, back around my head, and I feel the light pressure you apply as you pull me towards you. I feel the light touch of your lips as they meet mine. The soft little touch is doing everything in it's power to hold the underlying passion at bay. I feel your other hand weave through my hair, and I feel your wet tongue start to trace my lips. Then, all at one moment, it's like some sort of spontaneous combustion. In a frenzy our lips and tongues melt together, our hands achingly reaching out to explore each others body, we're clinging tightly to the desire that is overcoming both of us. Here I am, in the arms of a stranger, that I know better than my own brother.

I can feel your inner struggle, as some form of common sense takes over, and you pull your lips away from mine, and you look me in the eyes as you say, "Michele, I know you. I know how you are. And I know that this is new for you, and I don't want to push you. As much as I want to make love to you, just say the word now, and I'll back off while I still can."

This time I reach up and stroke your cheek with my hand, I look at you, and I smile, and I know that this is right. Without saying a word, I stand up. You're face is so cute now - you look confused, kind of disappointed. You think I'm going to leave. I slip my white sandals off and place them under the coffee table. I reach up and start to unbutton the first button in my white top. Our eyes connect, and I see realization dawn in your eyes, but still you stay seated. I unbutton the second button. Then the third. Then the fourth. Then the fifth. Finally the last button is undone, and my shirt has fallen open. I reach down and unbuckle my belt. I slowly slide it through each individual loop. I want to take my time. I don't want to rush this. Not yet. I unsnap my jeans, and slowly slide down the zipper. They flap open enough just so that you can see the top of my white lace panties. I reach up to my shirt, and start to slowly peel it off my shoulders. I take the shirt and place it on the table. My lips are dry now. I have a moments hesitation. My tongue naturally sneaks out to wet my lips and your mouth slightly drops open. I smile, and grab a hold of my jeans, and begin to slowly ease them down over my thighs, past my knees, and then I step out of them.

I stand before you now in nothing but my panties and bra, both of white lace. I look into your eyes as I reach around to the front of my bra and undo the clasp, pulling the scrap of material away from my skin, to reveal two creamy white mounds of flesh, perfectly formed, with a dark circle in the center of each, topped by a hard peak of flesh. I place the bra on top of my shirt.

I reach down and grab the remote. I turn the tv and the vcr off. I move forward and place each knee on the outside of your thighs, face to face. I reach towards you and pull your shirt out from inside your jeans. You lift your arms up as I slide the shirt up over your chest, past your head, and thru each armhole. I lean forward and kiss your forehead lightly. I get back up off your lap. I reach my hands out towards you, you place your palms in mine, as I pull you up. You quickly undo your shoe laces and slip off your shoes. You start to unbuckle your belt, but I stop you, claiming that job as my own. I slide your belt off, and then your jeans, in a way similar to how I had just removed my own. Now we face each other, in nothing but a strap of material. You look in my eyes as your hands grasp the elastic of your briefs. You begin to lower them. I don't dare look down. Not yet. I want to wait. You straighten up. You grab the elastic of my panties, except instead of removing them, you circle your fingers around to the back of the waistband, then you take your right hand and ease it underneath the top of where my g-string starts. You palm glides down my ass, underneath the tiny piece of material. Your finger comes to the edge of my pussy and you stop, slide your hand back up, and hook your fingers into the waste band of my panties. With one quick jerk, they are removed. My heartbeat picks up. I can feel the animal lust start to come alive in each of us.

You sit back down on the couch, and pull me on top of you. I'm straddling you again, exactly like I was before. I can feel your hard cock pushing up against my pussy. You lift the recliner up. Now your legs are stretched out on the recliner, while my legs are bent underneath my thighs. You place your fingers around my ankles and you pull my feet up to your shoulders. I think you are going to stop. But this position doesn't make sense to me. Then I feel you tug on my legs, and soon my knees are on your shoulders, with my pussy staring you in your face. I feel your hot breath on me as you exhale, "I finally get to see how sweet your pussy really does taste."

You snake your tongue out, and I feel it gliding from the top of the lips of my pussy, all the way down. As you reach the bottom of my pussy your tongue goes down just a little bit further, and for the first time in my life, I feel a wet tongue licking my ass. It's every bit as erotic as you had told me. "Do you like this Michele??" you ask. All I can do is moan. Your tongue slides back up, except on it's way back up, it slips in between the lips. As it slowly slides up I feel your hot tongue come into contact with my now hard clit. Your lips grab a hold of my clit as you suck it into your mouth. I start to thrust my hips up into your face. You release my clit long enough to say, "Does this feel good baby? You like my mouth sucking on your clit? Hmmm???? " I can feel your voice vibrating on my pussy, and I am still rendered speechless. You slide your tongue back down until you reach the entrance of my pussy. You stick your tongue out, keeping it hard and stiff, and begin to poke it inside. My pussy starts to spasm. I'm thrusting harder onto your face, as you expertly fuck me with your tongue. I start to scream out your name, I can feel my orgasm building. And then you stop.

You pull your tongue out of my pussy. "Michele, as much as I want to taste your sweet pussy when you cum, I need my cock inside you."

You put your hands underneath me, on my back, and you pull me up. Our lips once again crash together, and I can taste my pussy on your tongue. I'm now on my knees, still straddling you. I reach down and grab a hold of your hard cock, and I put the edge of your cock near the entrance to my pussy, and I slowly ease down, aching to feel the head of your cock pushing down deep into my pussy. Once you are in, I stop, and just sit there. I look into your eyes. And I can't begin to believe how much things have changed in a few short hours. I know this is so right. I know that at this moment in time, I was meant to be your lover. I start to grind my pussy on your cock, and it doesn't take long before my body starts reaching out towards that giant crescendo. I scream out your name is my body is wracked with orgasm after orgasm, I feel your hard cock thrusting into me as I start to fuck you harder and harder, needing to have every bit of your cock crammed up into my tight pussy as I am cumming. I hear the sounds of my pussy gushing around your cock, I can smell that sweet smell of sex in the air, and still I fuck you harder and harder, aching to reach that final plateau. And then your body stiffens for an instant, and then you are joining me, I can feel your cum shooting into my pussy, I can feel the force of your orgasm as you cum inside me. And slowly, slowly, slowly, we come down off of that high together. I lean down, and put my forehead on yours, and I whisper, "why don't you call and cancel your reservations."

****THE END****

I hope you enjoyed my story - it's only the second one I have written. Questions? Comments? Criticisms? (Okay - keep the criticisms to yourself) Please feel free to email me if you would like. The address is rebelmistress@hotmail.com

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