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Women find happiness and a man finds peace

She craves it rough, dirty...

"Meet me...."

= Will she do it? She agonizes for days, but when the time comes, she goes. They plan to meet at the Hotel. She tells herself, well, it's still a public place - he can't axe murder me there. She cannot resist - she's drawn to the experience, anticipating what's to come...

They meet in the bar. He's in his mid-50's, distinguished and successful, well-dressed. He looks her over from head to toe when she walks in - she shivers, nipples hard. She's dressed in a long dress, 100 buttons from neckline to hem, carefully buttoned. "Wear something I can rip off you," he told her, as they were planning this date. Underneath, a camisole and thong, garter and stockings...

They shake hands, small-talk as he orders her a drink. He brushes his hand down her back and pulls her closer. She smiles, she's wet already. He looks at her, kisses her... gently, then tongue, insistent. She gasps. "Let's go upstairs, ok?"

His room has been carefully prepared. Champagne chilling, soft jazz on the stereo, the bed laid out with silk scarves, tiny clamps, a riding crop...

She examines everything without touching anything, while he pours the champagne. She quickly drinks and sets the glass down. He reaches for one of the silk scarves, and approaches her. He takes her by the arms, and kisses her again, deeply. Then he wraps the scarf over her eyes and ties it.

"Just stand there," he orders, and vulnerable, she does as she's told. He circles her, lightly touching her, looking her over. Then, when her anticipation is at its peak, he fondles her breasts and grabs the edges of her dress and in one motion, rips it off her body, all 100 buttons flying everywhere. Now he looks her over even more carefully, picking up the riding crop and running the handle in the crack of her ass, between her thighs.

My god she's wet. She will beg him to touch her, if he wants. He is careful, slow and deliberate as he removes the garter belt and stockings. He unfastens her bra carefully, not ripping it off like the dress, and squeezes her breasts hard, pinching her nipples. She gasps, but she loves it. He finds the tiny clamps he laid out on the bed, and carefully pinching and sucking her nipples, he attaches the clamps one at a time to each sensitive tip. She groans, her clit is throbbing, but it's his pace, not hers.

Now he moves her, turning her to face the bed and bending her half over the edge. He ties her wrists with another scarf, and pulls her arms up over her head to tie her to a bedpost. Then he reaches down and slides the thong she's wearing down to her knees, not off. That little bit of silk adds to bind her a bit more. He reaches to feel her wet pussy, fingering her clit, and rubbing her ass. He's aroused now, too, and he stops for a minute to stroke his own dick, then he picks up the whip again.

She wasn't ready for the first harsh blow, and she gasped in pain, tears flowing, the minute he whips her. Before she recovers from the first pain, he does it again. He whips her while she cries and moans, squirming, but she can't get away, and in between, he rubs her clit and fingers her... then he whips her again. She is moaning, writhing, totally submissive - wanting him to stop, wanting him to never stop. She can almost cum right now, she's shocked at herself to know...

He whips her 10 or 12 times, then tears off the thong. He pulls off his pants and fucks her from the rear. He loves the feel of her ass, hot from the beating, and he grinds into her so his balls feel the heat. Her moaning of pain has turned to moaning in lust, and she begs him, "please may I cum?" "NO! I'll tell you when," he says, as he keeps grinding away.

In a few minutes, he climaxes.

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