Txt Pest

She’d been driving him crazy for weeks.

txt: so…what do you see happening when we get together

txt: so, i was thinking about you and…

txt: i keep thinking about your hands on my tits…

and on it went. Never a day went by without his phone bleeping in a series of texts from her.  She wore him out some days! She was clever, and verbose. She was funny…and verbose. She was caring….and verbose.

Now they were to meet. Forever, it had seemed, that they had waited for this. Not planes or trains apart, but time and obligations combined to keep them separate. Until now.

Two of her last texts had been very insightful. Likely the most important, concerning this day. This eventful day.

txt: was thinking about hard limits.

txt: will this be a one time deal?

They had talked a time or two about  hard limits, about safe words. And discarded the notion of both. He would test her, explore her limits…but this would take time. Not one outing to be sure. And yet. They had yet to meet in the flesh. How would they share this dance, body to body?  Was she ready to be led where he planned to take her?  He was ready to  teach her, but she needed to be ready to learn. All these answers awaited them both. Third floor. Room nine.

*****                               ******                ****                   *****

She walked the last few paces to room nine. She was shaking. Was it fear or need that put that extra wobble in her knees? She wasn’t sure, only certain that she was walking towards a door that she’d always wanted to open. Now she had the opportunity. And the Man to pull her through.

She was a free spirit, and before she could stop herself, she knocked briskly at the door, and yelled out “Room Service”.

She heard shuffling on the other side of the door. A muffled voice came through the thickness separating them.

“Sorry you have the wrong room. Didn’t order anything from room service.”

She leaned towards the door. “I’m certain you did, Sir” she responded, her voice low and husky. “Something….” she paused for effect, “…Vanilla?”

A low chuckle sounded. He was a mere 2 inches away now, the door slab the only distance keeping them apart. Still the door remained shut. Her phone vibrated against her breast. Text. He wouldn’t …would he?

TXT; SORRY, BEING DELAYED BY SOMEONE AT THE DOOR. CAN YOU DELAY YOUR ARRIVAL BY 15 MINUTES?

She was flummoxed. He…he had to know it was her out here.  She tried to type out a response. She was all  thumbs and had to keep backspacing to correct her spelling. She was making no sense. She turned, leaned back against the wall beside the door.

txt: Sorry Sir, last txt did not come through. I’m on my way. Can i get you a coffee or anything?

Where the hell had that come from, she wondered, with a small giggle. She hoped it wasn’t audible inside.

TXT: NOT A PROBLEM. COFFEE SOUNDS GREAT. NEED TO HAVE A JOLT OF CAFFEINE TO KEEP MYSELF GOING. LONG DRIVE HERE. ARE YOU WEARING YOUR RED PANTIES LIKE I ASKED?

RED panties??? OMG! She scrolled through her old texts, but had deleted that one. She had been certain he had wanted her in the black panties and bra set. OMG! She straightened from the door. oh, what to do, what to do?

txt: uh, Sir, RED? uh, n-no Sir, i have only the black pair i thought you wanted and…oh shit…what do You want me to do?

She hit ‘send’ and leaned on the wall by the door. Prayed. The phone buzzed in her hand.

TXT: HOW ABOUT COMING INSIDE, LITTLE ONE. LET US END THIS GAME AND BEGIN NEW ONES, EH?

And with a laughing flourish, the door beside her opened, and he waved her in. He tugged her curls as she passed, and she heard him murmur quietly,

“welcome, little txt pest!”.