Motorcycle Guy Continued..

She stood there in front of him in the cold, light rain outside the Seattle airport, bags at her feet. She was here finally. He'd left several months ago without even a warning that he would be out of reach. She, was very blonde and every inch a Texas woman in her ill-prepared-for-the-real-winter cold of this place in her long denim skirt, black shirt, pointed-toe black stylish boots and leather jacket. He was just as she remembered from that day of their ride in the warm August sun; tall and imposing, dark hair and heavy metal man jewelry, with the glare from the lights hiding his eyes behind his alternative-style glasses. Discovery of his leaving had triggered a sad, empty place inside her; one that was acutely aware of missed opportunities. She kept looking at him; taking in every detail of this moment and practically holding her breath and feeling immobile until he let her know something about what he thought of her presence there. It'd been a surprise for them both.

Here she was again. Even as the rain wet her hair, his mind was noting changes and familiarities in this woman he'd only met perhaps two times before. She was pretty and he was very attracted to her. Even now, part of him wanted to make her orgasm as he spoke in her ear. He knew that he could. He wanted to touch her again; something he'd been imagining over and over in his mind since their first meeting. She'd fled from further contact; never allowing time to reveal anything, whether it was just sex that drew them together or more. Right now, he was conflicted. He'd told her it would never work. She was too far; that he would be done with her once he came. He wanted to do the right thing, he'd told her. "I don't try very often to do the right thing, but I'm trying to this time."

She'd not listened. He wasn't exactly sure why, and another part of him was irriated at her for that and yet the pictures that kept coming to his mind were fiercely sexual and full of images of her and the responses he knew he could bring out in her.

"Well."
"I know."
"You do? Aparently not."

Silence.

She still held her breath. Waiting. Looking at him. Unaware of anything else around her but this man in her line of vision; his look, his scent, and the strong masculinity that eminated from him. She wanted his permission, but couldn't ask. She'd lost all ability to speak unless he did first.

He glared at her for several minutes and deliberately made her stand there in the cold. He knew that her clothing wasn't meant to shield her from the cold here, but rather the milder temps of Dallas. A part of him wanted her to suffer. He'd suffered; been tortured sometimes. She had no idea. And he'd never tell her.

He finally leaned in and barely touched his lips to hers. Her breath caught and she wanted to unleash the flood of lust, unspent emotion and overwhelming passion that was always just below the surface whenever she came in contact with this man. But sensing that this was not yet permission, she only allowed herself the sharp intake of breath and a small moan to escape. She wasn't allowed release yet.

He sensed it all, and took in her energy. Then, he pulled away.

"This way."

And he led her to where he was parked. Once her bags were in the vehicle, he suddenly pushed her up against his wet car and began to assault her senses. She felt his entire body against hers, and his kiss was angry, full of lust and punishing. His hands moved all over her, unmindful of the public area they were in. It was as if he wanted to crush her, he was pressed up so hard against her. She met him move for move. It was exactly the permission she wanted. His hands exposed her breast to the cold and she didn't care. His mouth was warm but alternated between soft then hard and biting. He was frantic to rediscover the places he knew and plunder each and every one of them again and further.

His other hand began moving her skirt up as both breasts were exposed now, nipples hard from response as well as the cold air. She was moaning and breathing heavily and was overwhelmed in this moment. She hadn't felt alive like this for such a long time, and yet, even his voice alone could bring her to this place. She opened her legs more and moved so that nothing impeded him in any way from any thing he wanted to do to her. She completely surrendered. His fingers found her and plunged. He remembered the feel of her too well. He wanted to pick her up with his fingers buried deep inside her.

He stopped.

"Get in."

And he moved away to the other side of the SUV. She could barely stand and somehow managed to gather her senses enough around her to move into the seat next to him. They drove in near silence except for their labored breathing.

"I've gotten a hotel nearby. It will allow us...privacy."
"Yes."
"You sure about this?"
"Yes."
"You don't even know the first thing about this lifestyle. Me."
"Show me. I want to learn. I trust you."

"Why??" he spat out angrily.

"I don't know. But you are my choice. There is something inescapable about you. It borders on obsession. That's the closest definition I have."

"Hmmm."

He thought about that. "It's just sex," he thought. He thought back over the last year, hearing from her here and there. He'd think he was free of her and then there was that whisper. Then pictures. Then long, drawn out conversations that brought him to a frenzy. He wanted to see her, watch her do things, touch her. He wanted contact. He would be filled with a mixture of wanting to crush her, do nasty things with her, be hard on her, and then..kiss her as she sat on him; placing her body on him and having him slide inside; in and out for as long as they could stand it. He wanted to fill her up in every place he could. He would draw nearer to her, but then the reality of the differences in their lives would settle in. It was excruciatingly frustating. And he'd pushed her away almost as much as she did the same. Yet, here they were.

She almost couldn't catch her breath. She still felt his tongue in her mouth, on her breasts, and hands where they'd burned impression after impression. She could barely focus her thoughts, she was so inundated with the residual sensations of what had just happened. There was no awareness of the cold until now, and she began to tremble. This was a big step for her. It went against the part of her that tried so hard to behave. But this spoke to a nature that was imbedded and deep; almost primal in thought and need. It was her core. No one had ever been able to master that before. No one had the strength or the confidence. She'd never been safe to allow it. She wasn't sure that she was safe now. But it didn't feel as if she had a choice in this. It was as if some outside force had chosen him for her. And there was no denying the effect he had on her. It'd never been like this. She was absolutely addicted.

They pulled up in front of the hotel just as the rain began to turn to snow. He turned off the car and got out without saying one word. He removed her bags and then opened her door. Seeing her face still flushed and the slight disheveled look to her clothing made him burn for her again, suddenly.

"Come on."

She got out and followed him. Upon hearing the lock disengage, it was like a barrage of pictures flooded her brain as to all the possibilities that lay ahead. She could feel the powerful moisture between her legs at the images that flashed one after the other of all they would do.

He noted her reaction and couldn't contain himself any longer.

He threw her bags aside and pulled her inside the room. It was dark, but warm. He again attacked her, pressing her against the wall with mouth and hands all over her. He pulled her hair as he kissed her, pinched and pulled her nipples alternately as his passions flared. She lifted a leg to wrap around him and he pushed himself against her harder. He turned her around with her face against the wall, breasts flattened as he lifted her skirt. He began to finger her again, two then three fingers at a time...harshly and softly, grabbing a shoulder so it they could go deeper into her. She was so near orgasm already, he could feel it in the tightening of her and her irregular breathing. She was getting louder as she got close.

And he wanted to hear that sound; that familiar sound of her release. It drove him crazy when he couldn't see her face as it happened..when he couldn't be there to will her body to it. He was controlling it now, and the power felt euphoric. He was harder than he'd ever been and wanted to pound her into oblivion as he came inside her, but not yet.

He stopped and told her to ready herself for him.

"Get changed and present yourself to me."
"Yes."

She picked up her bags and could barely walk as she began to head to the bathroom. Her senses swirling.

"No. Out here. I want to watch you get ready."

She was suddenly embarrassed and unsure of herself. Was this the right thing?

He sensed her uncertainty, and came over to her before he sat down. He stroked her cheek and kissed her forehead,

"It's alright. I enjoy watching you. You're here and I want to take every moment I can with you. It's okay."

Then he sat down, waited and watched.

She undressed slowly and deliberately, looking at his eyes as she did. He was a very attractive man for being so gruff. And when he was kind, it caught her so off guard. She wanted more from him. This was right.

She put on the garter, black stockings and heels. The bra was black but did not cover her nipples at all. It mainly served as support and enticement. Then, she brought out the cuffs. There were four, and there were chains as well. They were hard metal, but lined with softness. She put one on each wrist and each ankle. She then brought out the collar. She waited.

"Come over to me, wench."

She did. She handed him the collar and then knelt in front of him as he sat in the chair. She spread apart her knees on the floor and bent backwards with wrists near her ankles. It exposed her nakedness completely for him, and in this way she offered herself up for his inpection. But she was offering much more than just a look over her body.

And he knew this.

He traced a finger over her. Lightly touching every part of her; lips, face, hair and even very softly teasing her nipples and opening her to briefly inspect the wetness he'd felt and penetrated earlier. His erection had never wavered.

"Do you freely offer yourself?"
"Yes."
"Are you sure you're ready?"
"Yes."

And he placed the collar on her. It wasn't a full "collaring ceremony" such as the ones she read about. This was just the beginning of their journey together into a world he would introduce her to. She shivered in anticipation.