Goodbye, Patti

by Old Grey Duck

Caution: This BDSM Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Slavery, Heterosexual, BDSM, DomSub, MaleDom, Humiliation, Torture, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Enema, .

Desc: BDSM Sex Story: A woman decided to meet her special "on-line friend" with consequences she had not anticipated.

She couldn't believe she was actually doing this. How many times had she thought about it, but figured it would never happen, or worse case scenario, she might chicken out. But no, here she was, about to realize a fantasy that was too long in the making.

Patti sat in her car for a few moments, collecting her thoughts. What would her friends say? What would her late parents have thought? How would her HUSBAND react if he knew? Closing her eyes for a moment, she drew in a deep breath, and then got out of her car.

The parking lot of the truck-stop was like countless others along I-5, which ran along the West coast from the California border with Mexico, North through Oregon and Washington, to Vancouver. To one side were the big rigs that ran freight across the nation on eighteen wheels. They were parked while the people who drove them were inside, getting a meal, a hot shower, or a few hours sleep in a bed that was larger than the back of the cab. Fuel pumps of assorted grades of gasoline were off to another side. Next to them, diesel. And the large parking lot for RV's and autos. Tractor trailers were not the only vehicles that the station serviced. It was so large and humming with activity, it was the perfect place to blend in and meet a stranger.

A stranger? Well, perhaps that might not be the best way to describe who Patti was about to meet. No, he was someone she had encountered on-line, a few years ago. They had chatted and spoken on the phone several times. She had a certain hunger that her husband couldn't fulfill, and she figured that the anonymous nature of the internet would help her in ways she could not receive at home. At the time, she was taking care of her parents who were both ill, and she and her husband had moved back into her childhood home so she could be there with them full time, while her husband worked. When her father had passed, she was devastated. She had loved the man deeply. And shortly after that, the death of her mother left an even greater void in her life.

Family was a help, but her husband wasn't the rock of support she craved. After being the care-taker for so long, she desired to just have him take charge for once. Make the decisions about things that mattered. But that was not the case. Perhaps he was oblivious, or maybe he didn't care, but Patti simply NEEDED someone to step in as the decision maker. She was, as the saying goes, "burnt out". A part time job helped to distract her, but it was not the outlet she craved.

Her "special friend" on the internet was someone she poured her thoughts and heart out to. They played "games" where he would order her to do certain things. Some of these commands were not at all out of the ordinary, such as what to clothes she had to wear, or how to do her hair and makeup. Other times, he told her to do things to herself. Explore her body. Please it, and herself as well. He had introduced her to the concept that pain isn't always a bad thing, but can actually lead to heightened feelings of arousal and pleasure. The fact that she now masturbated several times a week while attaching over a dozen clothespins to each of her breasts no longer seemed unusual to her. As one hand worked her dildo up inside her, the other would reach up to twist and pinch the wooden clamps tighter around her tender flesh. How many times had she dropped to her knees to suck her husbands cock like a starving animal, the moment he got home, but fantasized that it was not her husbands cum she was swallowing, but that of the man on the other side of the computer?

On multiple occasions, he had made requests of her that she was unwilling to try. A meeting between them. Maybe a weekend away. Pictures. Being able to converse more freely by telephone. Her reluctance caused a small but gently widening rift between them. E-mails and conversations became less frequent, and then ... Stopped. She mourned the loss, and told herself that maybe it was for the best. But still, she longed for them in a nostalgic way. He had told her that she was beautiful. Something she doubted about herself due to her ever constant battle with weight. "I like women with curves," he had stated. She didn't doubt him for a moment. But still, she missed their chats.

A few weeks without contact turned into months, and then a few years. Then one day, she saw a message from him in her in-box. "I've been thinking of you," was all it said. She replied at once. "I miss our talks. How are you?"

Again, contact was resumed. And finally, she made the decision to meet him. Never, in all the years of her marriage had she been unfaithful to her husband. Yes, she had become sexually active at a young age, perhaps in ways that might not have been healthy or safe, but she had put that behind her (as she kept telling herself, with mixed results of believability). The tipping point was reached when one afternoon, when her husband returned home, she had wanted sex. Not to "make love", but just to have sex. Animal instincts kicking in, which would lead to brainless fucking to satisfy her on the most primitive level. She just wanted an orgasm that she had not induced by her own hands, but by those of her husband who would take her, and ram himself in her until she blacked out from the pleasure.

Did she get it? No. He stated that he was "tired" and he expressed annoyance that she seemed to be wanting more and more from him, in ways he felt were not "normal". To Patti's husband, sex was done in the dark, at night, missionary, and not much else. Yes, he enjoyed it when she sucked him off (what man wouldn't?) but when she asked him to reciprocate, he balked. "Yuck, that's not normal." She fought back the tears as he went to shower, and turned on her lap-top.

"You spend too much time on that thing," he snapped.

"What the hell else should I be doing?" she snarled back.

The lap-top was a prized possession. When her old desk-top computer had caught a "worm of death" that put it out of commission, once and for all, she scrimped her cash to buy it. It was pass-coded, and her husband NEVER was allowed to touch it. Had he managed to get it open, he would be stunned at what she had saved there.

And when she once again received the invitation to meet, she accepted.

"Really? No bullshit this time?" No bullshit, Patti answered. A date and time was set up. The truck stop was about thirty miles from where Patti lived, and she doubted anyone would notice her car parked with the hundreds of others there. She had followed the instructions to meet him at 10:00 in the morning, parking in a specific row of the lot. She knew what vehicle to look for, since she had been informed of what he was driving. She slung the case that held her lap-top over her shoulder (it also doubles as an over-sized purse). He had instructed her to bring it, so he could teach her some new photo shop effects and to swap pictures and downloads.

As she approached the SUV, the driver's side window slid down. "Hey there, pretty girl. You looking for a date?" She had to giggle at the goofy smile on his face.

"Maybe," she answered coyly as she opened the door and hopped in on the other side.

Suddenly, he was pulling her tightly against his body, crushing his mouth to hers. She felt a little lightheaded at the sensation it gave her. Mouths opened, tongues wrestled, and hands groped across each of them.

"I need you," she gasped. "Take me wherever it is you have planned, and just take me."

"Last chance to back out," he replied. "Are you sure?"


He started the SUV and quickly drove out of the parking lot and towards the road that would take them back onto I-5. Shortly after that, they were at the motel.

He had selected that particular one for several reasons. First, it was one to indulge the illicit meetings between people who didn't want it known that they had been there. Cash was the preferred manner of payment. No credit card receipt trail. Second, it was older, so it was built a lot more solidly than the newer motels, which also insured for better sound-proofing. And finally, the room was on the first floor, around the back side of the place, away from view to anyone on the street.

When he shut to door, he paused to look at her. Patti was, as he had always told her, quite beautiful. Her long dark brown hair hung nearly to the small of her back. Smokey eyes, the color of sable looked up at him as she smiled. Upon his instruction, she slowly undressed, releasing the top that encased her full breasts. When she released them from her bra, they fell slightly as gravity took hold, but the nipples and areola was a rosy pink. The weight she feared didn't do anything unflattering to his eye. In fact, the soft full curves of her only added to his lust. Once she had finished, he allowed her to do the same to him. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he told her to stand next to him. "I want to inspect you." As she had been told, there was not a hair on her body, below her neck. Patti had worked for hours to shave, wax and exfoliate herself, so that she was hairless and smooth. "Very good," he purred as one hand slipped up between her thighs to tease the tender moist button of flesh that awaited his attention. He drew Patti into his lap to kiss her, and continue to stroke her. She shifted and opened herself to accept his attentions, delighted at his praise.

.... There is more of this story ...

The source of this story is Storiesonline

For the rest of this story you need to be logged in: Log In or Register for a Free account