Email Reality

The F150 rolled away from the city its deep throaty exhaust mesmerizing me as the trees became the scenery with the buildings lessening. It was a small city with a regional airport and before long we had exited the Interstate onto a state road driving through farmland. About half-hour after we had left the airport we turned into the driveway of a quite ordinary ranch house. The house was set back from the road. On the side we had driven by was a large piece of farmland. I couldn't see if there were neighbors on the other side because a dense hedge lined the right of the driveway.

The privacy of the place was just as Don had described it in his email. I got out of the car, we walked up the stoop and Don opened the door. We hadn't really talked during the drive. Oh, Don had said something about the weather but really this wasn't a typical social visit and I had kept quiet. Actually what we had been emailing about doing and now were near carrying out most would think was quite anti-social.

Once inside the house Don told me to go sit in the living room on the wooden chair. He went to the kitchen and I walked into the living room. It was moderately furnished with a sofa, two easy chairs and a flat screen TV on the wall. All in all it was in good shape but it was definitely a single man's decorating touch. A bit away from the center was the chair Don had mentioned, It was a simple bar stool. It didn't go with the furniture but when I looked around I could see on the other side of the foyer what would have been the dining room a round table with several of the same bar stools around it. (You know the kind that are chair height.) I sat down.

I'm not sure how long I sat there perhaps for 10 minutes when Don came out drinking a beer and plinked down in his sofa looking at me.

Again time passed. Part of me wanted to call a cab but the other part wondered what he was thinking. Would he ask me to call a cab? I mean asking me here it should be up to me but listen I'm not very girl looking and he may be changing his mind. But, if he told me to go up and change I was suppose to not only change my outfit but also everything else as best I could. In other words I was to be his submissive slut girl when I came back down.