Waiting for you - Sex Stories

Waiting for you

... hadn't and thought that maybe honesty might be the best policy. "I thought that if I kept you waiting then you'd be even more pleased to see me when I arrived. It was a stupid childish thing to do. I'm sorry." "Master," he cut in. "Pardon?" I questioned. "I'm sorry, Master," he said emphasizing the word Master slowly. I hesitated; it sounded strange and foreign to me. "You can go," he said calmly but firmly. "I'm sorry Master," I spurted out quickly, "please, I'm sorry. I'll listen." I looked up at the camera pleadingly and was met by several long minutes of deafening silence. I felt like a fool all dressed up and locked out here. "I'm not convinced," he added finally. "Please Master, let me in," I implored, "I beg you," I added in a timid voice. "Take your dress off," he responded coldly. This was crazy, I went to all of this effort to dress up for him and there he was asking me to simply discard it. Not only that, but out on the pavement, in public. There weren't many people about but we were only a couple of roads down from the embassy. "Take it off, or walk away," he enunciated his words clearly, "I won't ask again." I looked around me carefully before moving. I placed my hands down around the lower hem of my dress and timidly drew it up over my body, until I was left standing there as good as naked with only my sexy see-through underwear and my heels left to preserve my dignity. As I started scanning my immediate surroundings for people, I felt a warmth stirring ...

... between my legs; it was as agreeable as it was unexpected. I turned and looked up at the camera with a little more confidence and a moment later I heard a click as the door automatically swung open in front of me. I stepped inside quickly, holding my dress in my hand, not knowing quite what to do with it, and the door shut behind me, although he was not there. The hallway was painted white, with strong black lines denoting breaks. The walls were awash with frames, full of erotic art and photography. My eyes were transfixed by the graphic images of male and female genitalia; of bodies intertwined in improbable positions; of faces alive with all number of different emotions. I felt my nipples harden in reaction to the visual invasion. As I took a step forward down the hall the images started to change. There were sex objects of all shapes and sizes, things that I had never even dreamed of, being used to pleasure the naked forms. There were contraptions and harnesses, holding people in place as others stood over them. As I continued down the hall to the door, I shivered in my semi naked state, absorbing my surroundings, and wondered what exactly was in store for me. When I pushed the door open, he was there, standing in front of me, his person occupying the whole room. My eyes were drawn to his imposing frame. He was dressed impeccably with a crisp, black, Saville Row suit, partnered with a waistcoat, tie and shoes that shone. "Welcome Samantha, I'm glad that you are here," he smiled ...