Erotica: Good Girl, That’s All For Now – Part I

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I met him at a bar…

Likely story right? I sat alone, drinking my glass of wine like I normally did on a Thursday night after a long day at work. I often struck up conversation with the bartender or couples sitting near me who had stopped in for a quick bite to eat.

I tried to void talking to single men, mostly because it was the same old story. They had just moved to Los Angeles to be in a band and were excited to be cutting a record at the studio down the street. Music had saved them, yada yada blah blah blah. I could already feel the disappointment I’d eventually face when I’d wake up in the morning and they’d be gone, never to be seen again.

It was like a broken record. That was until the night I met Hunter.

I’ll be honest, he had that same “musician look” – you know, the one where they wear the torn black jeans, shirt just tight enough to make you wonder what’s underneath and a leather jacket even though it couldn’t be more than 76 degrees outside.

As he walks past me the smell of his cologne fills my nostrils and I turn to look at him. Our eyes meet but I quickly look away. “Not another one” I whisper to myself. Be strong.

He sits one bar stool away from me and orders a beer. I can see every girl trying not to stare at him, but failing miserably. Poor fools.

He takes a sip of his drink and I can’t help but watch his lips touch the glass and immediately think about them touching my skin ever so gently. A man like that has to know exactly what to do with lips like those.

Amidst my fantasy he catches me staring at him and says, “Is this seat taken?”

I fumble with my words, but I get something out that must’ve been something resembling a No because he moves into the seat next to me.

He extends his hand, “I’m Hunter. You’re not very subtle, are you?”

“I’m sorry?” I reply. He says, “You were staring right at me. Normally, a woman like you, would at least pretend not to notice me right away.”

I’m intrigued so we begin to talk about where we’ve been and where we’re headed. It’s all the same typical type of conversation. We move closer to one another, he’s less of a stranger now and I can feel the chemistry building.

There are no words for the connection I’m starting to feel with him. I can feel my desire growing, every part of my body just aching for him to touch it. He keeps his distance, but I long for the moment when he breaks the barrier and touches me.

I begin to fantasize about going home with him. I imagine we kiss at the front door and it’s so hot and passionate that we can’t stop. We then burst through the door and tear off each others clothes. He throws me onto the bed and we begin to….he catches me off guard, “May I ask you a question? Have you ever let someone take control for once? I can tell you are a very independent, powerful and sexy woman. You don’t need anyone to tell you what to do, but is there any part of you that wants to just let go?”

I let these words sink in for a moment. The answer was absolutely yes, but I didn’t want to seem too eager. Before I can even answer he grabs my hand and says, “Come with me.”

I don’t know why but I go with him. There’s something about him that I simply cannot resist hanging on his every word.

He leads me out of the bar and through a dimly lit hallway. As we reach the middle of the hallway he turns and presses me against the wall. My eyes are locked on his. There is a part of me that is filled with both pleasure and fear.

“I see potential in you, my dear sweet girl.” He brushes my hair back behind my ear, traces his fingertips down my neck, running his thumb along my jawline. My body goes instantly hot with desire. He continues in a strong but sexy tone, “I want to nod your head yes or no to what I am about to say. I don’t want to hear a word from your mouth, understood?”

I nod yes.

“Good girl.” My body quivers. “Now, I want you to go home, get completely undressed and climb into your bed. You will then wait for me to text you. Is that understood?”

I nod yes.

“Good girl. I want you to reach into my right jacket pocket and pull out my phone. Save your cell phone number in my contacts. Do it now.”

I fumble slightly as I reach into his pocket, pull out his phone and type my number. I hit save and look him in the eyes for my next instructions.

“Good girl. Now put the phone back where you got.”

I return his phone and as I remove my hand from his pocket puts his face close to mine. Our lips are almost touching. He turns my head to the side and whispers in my ear, “Good girl. Now I want you to get in your car and do as I instructed. I will text you when I am ready. Understood”

I nod yes. He releases me and I walk to my car. I drive home recounting what just happened. Why was I so turned on by this idea. This man is a stranger and no one has ever talked to me the way that he did. What am I doing?

I walk into my apartment and without skipping a beat, I take off my clothes, get into my bed and stare at my phone.

After about 20 minutes of pure anticipation my phone dings.

The text reads, “Hello my sweet precious girl. Have you done as I’ve asked?”

I respond with, “Yes, I have”.

“Good girl.”

I can feel myself getting wet with desire as I see that he’s typing his next message to me…

“That’s all for now.”

TO BE CONTINUED

 

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