Message-ID: <17192eli$9811150540@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: pami1968@aol.com (Pami1968) Subject: "Pet" Pt.1 by Pami F/m Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: <19981114200653.01940.00000682@ng111.aol.com> This contains sexual situations. Well, maybe not so much in Part 1. BUT...if it offends you, or if you are under 21, you should not read this. Also, please do not post or repost this without my permission. This is a switch for me. What do you all think out there in cyberland? Opinions and flattery ALWAYS accepted. :) PET (part1) He waited anxiously for her arrival. He had wanted to meet her for so long...it was like an ache in the pit of his soul. They had been chatting on the ‘net for a few months. First, just casual friends, and then one day, it happened. ********************************* He had chastised her for delaying in responding to one of his emails. Her response startled him. He had expected one of her usual disclaimers about working too much, not being online very often... instead, she offered no excuses. “If you don’t like me, you don’t have to talk to me anymore. If you want to continue this, then it continues at MY pace, not yours. Do you understand?” He sat looking at the screen for a moment. Wondering what she meant. If anything. And he realized that he actually cared what she thought. How she felt. The concept of not having her in his life, even at this superficial level, was foreign to him. He wanted to please her. He wanted to make himself as important to her as she had become to him. He pondered, and wrote back, “I understand. I only want to make you happy. Please...let me.” She smiled as she read his answer. She was a changeable creature. One moment happy and carefree, the next pouting and sulking, the next sensual and erotic, the next demanding and cruel. Her mood swings were many, but they were part of her. And if he wanted to be part of her life, then he needed to realize that. She liked him...very much. She wanted to meet this man who had touched her. He made her feel cherished and appreciated. Oh....it sounded silly, she supposed, that someone with whom you only exchange words on a computer screen could help you feel a certain way, but sometimes... sometimes... it helped to know the mind behind the person before the physical person. She replied, “It is time. We need to meet. Are you ready?” His heart swelled when he read her latest message. He had seen pictures of her. He knew she was beautiful. She insisted that she wasn’t, but he reminded her that beauty was in the eye of the beholder. The twinkle in her dark eyes, the silkiness of her long hair, the creaminess of her skin... these were all things that he wanted to see and touch with his hand, not just his head. He wanted to make her know that he thought she was the epitome of womanhood. “Name the place and the time. I am at your disposal,” he answered. She licked her lips, like a cat finishing a bowl of cream. He was yummy, she thought. Tall and broad-shouldered. Strong, even features, blue eyes that showed his inner thoughts. She had looked at his pictures a multitude of times. She wanted him. Now, she thought, she would have him. In every way. He waited anxiously. There was no response from her. Had he erred in some way? Was she only playing with him? He closed his eyes and stretched in his chair. He must have pushed too hard. She was going to disappear now, and he would never have the chance to see those luscious lips, those tempting breasts, those curving hips in person. As the thoughts of despair swept through him, he heard the PING of a received email. “Meet me tonight. Smokey Joe’s on Fifth Ave. Seven o-clock. Wear a blue buttoned-down oxford shirt and jeans. And... don’t be late.” He smiled and laughed. The trembling feeling swept through him and he guessed that this was where the phrase “giddy as a schoolgirl” came from. He quickly typed his response. “Yes Ma’am. I will be there.” And sent it. She opened the email. Her eyes scanned the two lines he had written, and she smiled. And licked her lips. ************************************* She was there at 6:30. She waited outside, in her car, wanting to see if he had followed her instructions. At about 6:45, a blue Ford Explorer pulled up. She squinted in the half-light as someone got out. Yes...it was him. She smiled as she saw the shirt and jeans. She saw him look around nervously, and her smile broadened. It was good that he was a bit on edge. What was running through his mind, she wondered, as she watched him stride into the bar. He looked around as he entered. Thank God, this wasn’t one of those smoke-filled bars where a permanent cloud seemed to linger, blocking the views of the patrons. He knew she detested cigarette smoke, and found it ironic that a place called “Smokey Joe’s” was actually smoke-free. He didn’t see anyone that looked remotely like her, so he walked up to the bar and ordered a bottle of beer. He paid and walked over to a table against the wall and sat down so he had a view of the front door. He was really nervous. He reassured himself that she was just a woman. Like any other woman. He gave a wry grin to himself as he realized that no, she was NOT like any other woman. She was fascinating to him. And he hoped that he was at least interesting enough to her that she would give him a chance to show her how much he cared for her already. His eyes clouded over as he envisioned her in one of the pictures she had sent him. It was a plain old snapshot of her at a party. Her hair waved over her shoulders and her eyes twinkled at the camera as she smiled, obviously enjoying herself. It was apparent from the picture that she was somewhat overweight, in fact, he thought she looked...abundant. That was a good word, he nodded to himself. He had always fancied women with a bit of meat on their bones...provided they had the curves in the right places, of course. That picture was from the waist up, and he could tell, she certainly had the curves happening. She smiled as she walked through the door and spied him right away. She had lingered in the parking lot, planning on being a little late. Better to keep him on edge. He looked adorable sitting there. His eyes were staring off into space and he had a slight smile on his face. She hoped he was thinking of her. Because he was even more delectable in person than she had thought previously, and she could not WAIT to find out all about him. She strolled over to his table. “Waiting not too long?” he heard a slightly out of breath voice ask him. He focused in on the speaker. It was HER! Finally. He automatically glanced at his watch. 7:10, it said. “You are late,” he told her. “In fact, I thought you weren’t coming.” He hadn’t even noticed the time, he had been so wrapped up in his daydream, but she didn’t need to know that. He smiled at her, ameliorating the sting of his words. “Pardon me, I MUST have the wrong person,” she said, as her face froze and her eyes grew icy. She drew herself up and turned to walk away. She was determined that SHE would direct this meeting, not him, and if he couldn’t handle it, then she didn’t want to let this go any farther. He pushed his chair back and sprang to his feet. He leapt after her and grabbed her elbow. “No, PLEASE. Don’t leave. I’m sorry. I was just joking. Please...sit down. Give me a chance.” She pointedly looked at his hand grasping her arm and then back up into his eyes. Be strong, she told herself. Don’t give in. He removed his hand and started babbling. About how he wanted to meet her for so long, and how wonderful she looked, and how he was stupid for overreacting, and it was only a friendly joke, and how he really just wanted to get to know her. She let him ramble for a bit. He WAS nervous, she thought. She let him convince her to sit down at the table, and asked him to go get her a beer. He did, jumping at her request eagerly. That was a good sign, she reflected. He had potential. He came back with her drink and they sat and talked. And laughed. The conversation was general. They talked about his work, her work, their families and friends. It was like their emails, but better, because he could sit there and look into her mesmerizing eyes. He watched them sparkle at him when he said something particularly witty. He watched them grow soft when he said something serious. Oh, she was ten times more alluring in person than on the computer. He finished his beer quickly and got up to get another. Until he saw her small frown. He thought that he didn’t want her to think he was a lush, so he sat back down. “If you want another drink, go ahead and get it,” she told him. “Don’t stop yourself on MY account.” There was just the faintest hint of sarcasm in her voice. “Oh. No. No, I don’t want another,” he replied. “Are you sure? I mean... I don’t want to cramp your style,” she told him. “No. No. I am positive. Just sitting here with you is enough to make me drunk on your beauty,” he answered, proud of himself for working that in. She laughed. “Very good. I AM impressed. And I doubted if you were ever going to get around to complimenting me.” And with that, the floodgates opened. He told her the truth. That he thought she was gorgeous. Everything about her made him want to touch her, hold her, kiss her, even worship her. She smiled at that. “WORSHIP me? Puleeze!” “No, I am serious. You were meant to be adored and I am only happy that someone else hasn’t beaten me to it. I want to make you understand that. Give me that chance. Please,” he told her earnestly. She wondered if he knew what he was saying. She knew. She knew without a doubt that she wanted to see him again. She wanted to take him into her life and make him hers. She wanted to feel his eyes and his hands and his lips all over her. Indeed... she wanted him to worship her. She glanced at her watch. “Well, I must be going. Have to get my beauty sleep, you know. Would you like to do this again sometime?” she asked in as casual a tone as she could. This was the moment of truth. She needed to maintain the upper hand. He looked at her. He wondered what she was thinking. How could she be so casual? How could she be so unfeeling? He had just laid his soul in front of her and she was talking about LEAVING?! Still, she did leave open the chance of seeing her again. “YES!” he practically shouted, drawing some looks from nearby patrons. He quieted his tone. “Yes. I do. Do you really have to go?” he asked in a forlorn tone. She reminded him that she had to work in the morning, but suggested meeting that Friday night. She would make him dinner. At her place. Provided he promised to do the dishes, she smiled. He felt wonderful again. He assented, and they set a time. She gave him directions and left. He watched her walk out of the bar, her hips gently swaying back and forth, and he knew. He wanted her, and that Friday night, he would have her. ************************************** -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | | | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | ----