Her gaze moved to the window and she could see the city below, could see the cars moving like little Matchbox toys along the highways. One of those cars was Him. Or maybe not. Maybe He was already there, waiting. She fidgeted again at the thought. She had been so excited when she left but now her stomach was in knots. She had known she would get more nervous as time went on, but she didn't expect it to be this bad. She felt physically ill.

"Just relax," she whispered to herself. She gave herself a pep talk in her head. He will not stand you up and He will be just as He always is, firm and gentle at once. Funny. And nice. He is nice. Just don't freak out and act like an id-

She gasped aloud as the plane jerked into a rather bumpy landing. She smoothed down her skirt again in an effort to calm the adrenaline in her veins. Take a deep breath. She did and, surprisingly, felt better. She braced herself as the racing plane slowed, her head leaning back into her seat. After a moment, the plane was at a roll and moving towards the gate.

Oh god...I'm here. I'm here. Please...

She had no idea what she was asking for. Maybe for Him not to be there. Maybe for Him to be standing right there, for her to see as she deplaned. Or not. Just stop already! Just stop thinking!

Another deep breath and the plane had come to a stop and the 'click' of two hundred seatbelts unfastening was deafening in her ears. She unfastened her own and waited for the kid beside her to push his way into the aisle, then she followed him, reaching up and pulling her black leather bag down from the overhead bin. Strapping it over her shoulder she waited, along with everyone else and took long, deep breaths to keep her nerves down. Looking ahead, she saw the line begin to move and she smoothed her skirt again, though it was wrinkled from sitting so long and she sighed. She fished into her purse and pulled out a roll of breathmints, taking a quick moment to pop one into her mouth before she was moving with the rest of the line.

"Goodbye...thank you...have a good weekend...bye now..." The attendants were doing their duty and she gave them a slight smile as she passed, but didn't speak. She heard her footfalls echoing along with the rest of the stampede's as they walked down the corridor to the gate. Relax, girl, relax.

As she emerged from her metal cocoon, she was greeted with muted blues and greens in the gate. She did a quick scan of the expectant faces in the crowd and didn't see Him. She moved slowly, her eyes slightly downcast, raising quickly to look at people as she passed, looking for His eyes, but being disappointed each time. "If you do not find me right away, stand beside the second column to your right as you move towards the corridor." She remembered His words and only just then noticed the large round columns that were spaced every fifteen feet, almost like a demarcation line separating the gate from the corridor area.

Taking a deep breath, she hitched the bag up her shoulder once more and moved towards the second column, the normalcy of walking, of something to focus on, relaxing the ball that had been her stomach once upon a time. Reaching the column, she stood, facing the corridor area, watching the people walking by, but doing her best to keep still and not search all around her. She stood for several minutes, watching the reunited families laughing as they went by, watching the lovers stealing kisses and glances as they made their way towards the baggage claim.

"Hello, girl."

Her back stiffened. His voice. Some part of her mind registered that He sounded exactly as He did on the phone as she turned around to face him. He stood there with a smile on His face, His hair short and close-cut, dressed in a dark business suit.

"Hello, Sir." She returned His smile and dropped her eyes slightly, a blush rising on her cheeks. He chuckled and motioned her towards the throng of people moving towards the baggage claim and, presumably, the exit. She turned, moving in that direction and she felt His hand, warm, gently touch the small of her back, guiding her.

"How was your flight, girl?"

"Nerve-wracking, Sir." It was strange speaking while His presence was beside her, but that was always strange meeting someone like this, having logged hours of phone-time. You get used to hearing the voice, the inflections, you get used to the personality behind the voice. It's always a bit odd reconciling the voice with the physicality at first.

He gave her a sidelong glance and His mouth quirked up in a slight smile that melted her knees, "Oh?" She blushed again and looked forward.

"Yes, Sir. i'm glad i wore Arrid." She offered a smile and peeked at him out of the corner of her eye. It took a moment, but then He laughed and she was fascinated by the way His mouth moved. The sound was so pleasant, so familiar, so relaxing. She smiled and looked forward again.

"Was it so bad then?" He asked, some amusement in His voice.

"Yes, Sir." They had reached the baggage claim as He chuckled and she offered, "Sir, i have no checked bags."

"You fit everything in there?" He indicated her black leather bag with a raised brow.

"Yes Sir." He looked surprised, then motioned her towards the exit.

"Good girl."

They made a bit of small talk along the car-trip back to His home and she felt alternately more at ease and more nervous. Just spending time with him was allaying her nerves quite a bit, but contemplating the future, later in the day, was a bit nerve-wracking for her. She finally resolved, after smoothing her skirt for the thousandth time, to not think about it and to only take things moment by moment.

Finally they'd arrived and He ushered her into the house and showed her where she was to put her things, the computer/guest room. She set her bag and her purse on the futon that was backed against one wall and shrugged out of her short black jacket. He stood in the doorway the whole time, arms crossed lightly over His chest, watching her movements. She could feel the blush rising on her cheeks, but strove to make her movements natural and not self-conscious. She succeeded to some degree.

"Sir?"

"Yes, girl?"

"May i use the bathroom, please?"

"You may," He responded, moving to indicate which door she should use. "When you are finished, come into the living room."

"Yes, Sir." She waited until He'd left the hallway before she closed the door and let out a long breath. I'm here. Really here. And He's cute! She grinned, thinking that was a very un-sub-like thought, but not really caring. She used the bathroom, and took the time again to straighten her skirt and look at herself in the mirror. Her face was a bit pale, but she reckoned that had to do with her stomach flopping all over the lower part of her abdomen for the last several hours. She ran the water, washing her hands, then splashing a bit of cool water onto her cheeks. They always did that in the movies, but she wasn't sure it did much for her except make her cheeks wet. She dried them with the face towel hung beside the sink. Taking another long look at herself in the mirror, she pulled in a deep breath, then flushed the toilet and opened the bathroom door.

When she entered the living room, He was sitting comfortably on the sofa, legs crossed. He'd removed His tie and jacket and the first two buttons of His crisp-looking white shirt were unfastened. She just stood there for a moment until He motioned her to His feet. She blushed, again, and moved there quickly. Dumb! Dumb! Dumb! You should have gone to kneel without him having to tell you! Lowering to her knees, she kept her eyes on the floor near His black shoes.

"Are you nervous, girl?" His voice was thick and warm, but the steel behind it made her straighten her back and made her belly quiver, as always.

"Yes, Sir." She managed to get the words out without her voice wavering, but hoped she wouldn't have to say much more than that.

"Why would that be?" She felt His hand pet the crown of her head and her eyes closed, a warm feeling washing through her.

"Your girl isn't sure what to expect, Sir."

"No?" She heard the amusement in His voice and she wondered if she'd forgotten something.

"No Sir." Then He laughed and that warmth spread through her again. She loved His laugh.

"I believe you have some spankings coming to you, birthday girl."

Something inside her broke. Not in the way a spirit breaks, but in the way that suddenly everything comes together. As He motioned her onto His lap, she realized that she would go to this man she had known online for years, that He would spank her and that she would probably like it. Nevermind that they'd only just met in real life less than an hour before. Nevermind that she'd come here with the very real fear of being rejected. Nevermind all that and lay over His lap.

And she did.

He lifted her skirt and hiked her panties down over the curve of her ass. His hand was warm and smooth as He caressed her upturned asscheeks and she had to hold herself still to keep from squirming. Her nervousness was gone, in favor of acute sensory perception. She could feel the ring on His finger as His hand rubbed across her skin. The brush of His nail on the soft part where her ass met her thighs. "Count, girl."

"Yes, Sir." She'd barely had the words out when the first swat came, not terribly hard, but with a strength waiting behind it, waiting to be released, it seemed. "One, Sir." And again, on her other asscheek this time. "Two, Sir." Before He'd brought her to five, she realized she was panting. She began to blush but number six redirected her attention. He'd begun to hit her harder, moving around her bottom until both cheeks were a faint pink. "Nine, Sir!" And again, harder, forcing a gasp past her lips, "Ten Sir!" She hung her head down now, trying to relax, knowing the spanks would get even harder. He was a strong man. He paused at just after the twelfth swat, His hand, warm itself, running lightly over her warm skin. He slid lower...and then lower.

"Is this girl across my lap enjoying this?" As He finished the sentence, His finger slid down and between her thighs, slipping between the slick lips of her cunt, then back out. He chuckled, "I think she is...you're wet, girl." As if to emphasize this, He put His finger, indeed wet, beneath her nose. The blush that swat number six had driven back returned with a vengeance and she groaned softly. "What was that?" He asked.

"Y-yes, Sir."

"What, girl?"

"A girl is wet, Sir."

Another laugh, then, "Ah, well it must mean she's enjoying being the birthday girl." And with that, He laid into her, spanking her hard and fast, scattering the hits along her bottom and the tender part...her sit spots. He went so fast she was barely able to count between them, very often counting one so close to the other, they seemed to be a single word.

By the end, she was squirming, although she had tried very hard not to, and He had His arm very firmly across her shoulders, pinning her there. She was gasping and crying, her cheeks wet again, but naturally this time. Her red hair had fallen down and was splayed along the sofa cushion, the curls defeating the fan-like look it should have made. He laid the last swat into her, then raked His short nails over the tender and very red skin.

She lay over His lap, breathing heavily and trying to bite back her sobs. His hand had gone back to gently caressing her cheeks, then He slid her panties back up and over her bottom. He gave her a light push and she slid off His lap, into a kneeling position beside him. After taking in a hitching breath, she said, in her soft, tiny voice, "Thank you Sir."

She backed up slightly and leaned over, hovering over His left shoe. She looked up, her eyes rimmed with red and He nodded slightly. She placed her lips very lightly on the tip of His shoe, then did the same with His right shoe, leaving not a trace of the kisses on either. She knelt back up and looked at him.

He smiled.

***

© - 2001