Third date: Under his control

While the weekend is usually the high-light of my week, it seemed a bit bland in the days after my first two dates with Jonathan. While I usually either went shopping or go out for drinks with my friends, I couldn’t be bothered to plan anything. All I could do was think about him.
What I did instead was catch up on my household tasks. I cleaned, washed and did my laundry, all the tasks I usually postponed for as long as I could. The main thought behind this sudden urge for a clean apartment was that Jonathan might visit. We hadn’t made any plans yet, but we had sort-of agreed that the third date was the appropriate starting point for more than just sleeping together. Our next date might end in my own bedroom rather than a cheap hotel. And thus I cleaned.
Part of me wanted to leave it like this, so that the next time Jonathan took off his belt, he might actually use it. I eagerly awaited the moment he’d spank me for the first time. It’s not something we had ever mentioned, but I had convinced myself that he was the kind of man who knew how to treat a naughty girlfriend.
Inviting him into my messy apartment didn’t seem like the right way to achieve that goal however. My first punishment needed to be about something more interesting. Discipline for being a lazy git – no matter how sexy – was more a relationship goal, not a relationship starter.
The one thing that made the weekend more interesting, were the texts Jonathan and I exchanged. Usually late at night, when I’d already gone to bed, but was unable to sleep, I flirted with him through text messages. I told him that I was cold and missed his arms to keep me warm. He replied that he missed the soft touch of my skin and the smell of my hair.
I chuckled slightly at his modest answer. “Just the smell of my hair?” I texted back. “I bet you forgot to mention my breasts in the palm of your hand and my ass against your crotch.”
“You’re right, those I miss most: those soft, malleable handfuls and a cozy cushion for my cock.” He replied.
I blushed at his response, I’ve never been very good at dirty-talk, but it seemed like I had succeeded in pushing the conversation past carefully crafted euphemisms.
“I miss your cock too.” I replied. I regretted the message almost instantly, it felt too clumsy, too direct.
Jonathan didn’t seem to mind however. He reacted quickly: “You do? It’s just as big and hard as when you last saw it, throbbing with excitement just thinking about you. I really wish I had someplace soft to bury it right now.”
I felt almost jealous at how good he was at this, how he could make me horny with just his words. “I wish I could be there for you sir, and be your cushion.” I’d rewritten the message five times before sending it to him, leaving out the word ‘sir’, putting it back, capitalizing it, …
“Do you want to see it?” He texted.
I blushed slightly. Did he want to send me a dick-pic? I felt a bit awkward suddenly. I had enjoyed watching his cock when we had slept together at the hotel, but my admiration then had been more for something that could be used to fuck me with. I wouldn’t usually enjoy the aesthetic of a dick. I usually scoffed at men that wanted to send you such pictures and fervently hoped I’d never be sent an unsolicited one. Yet somehow I felt different now. Yes, I did want to see Jonathan’s cock, the one he was going to fuck me with after our next date, the one that was hard and throbbing, just thinking about me.
“Yes, please.” I replied.
I was pleasantly surprised by the picture Jonathan sent me next. Not a close-up of his cock as you might expect when a man sends you such a thing, but a complete picture of him standing in front of a mirror, fully naked, cock hard and ready.
“Do you like it?” He asked.
Yes, very much.” I replied, and because I felt like I was supposed to offer something in return: “Would you like a picture of the soft cushion you could rest it on if you were here?”
“I would love that.” Jonathan replied.
For a moment I wondered whether I should send him a picture of one of the pillows on my bed. Yet more than wanting to tease and be a bit of a brat, I wanted to please him. I positioned myself on my belly, tits out in front, back arched to raise my bottom and raised my arm to take a selfie, carefully angling my phone to capture face, chest and backside.
“Thank you, Anna. You look amazing as always.” Jonathan replied.
I smiled happily at his praise. “Happy to be of service, sir.” I replied, this time I didn’t hesitate to call him that. The distance provided by texting made me feel more bold.
“Are you going to keep teasing me about my age?” Jonathan suddenly asked. “I will have to punish you again if you keep this up.”
I blushed deeply and was immediately aroused at his threat of punishing me. Even though as my first ‘punishment’ I had just been made to divulge a naughty fantasy, not the kind of bottom-reddening punishment I usually fantasized about. “I’m not teasing you.” I replied, slightly confused.
“Then why do you keep calling me sir?” Jonathan asked.
I didn’t really know what to say. “I just like using it as a nickname.” I tried to explain.
“Still sounds like teasing to me.” Jonathan replied.
I blushed. I could try to explain further, but didn’t want to divulge my sexual fantasies in any more detail through text messages. “What are you going to do about it?” I asked instead, finally allowing my inner brat to show herself for a moment.
“I’ll make you share another fantasy with me.” Jonathan replied.
“And what if I don’t?” I asked, suddenly unwilling to bend so easily.
“Do you remember the fantasy I shared with you on our first date?” Jonathan asked. “You’ve had two turns already, now it’s mine. On our next date, I’m going to tie you up and have my way with you. Unless of course you share another of your fantasies with me right now.”
I blushed deeply, breathing heavily with excitement. “When will you come pick me up for this date?” I replied.
A short time passed before Jonathan replied. “You have class on Monday, right? I’ll take you home with me after.”
“Straight home? Doesn’t sound much like a date.” I teased.
“You did say last time that you wanted to taste some of my cooking.” Jonathan replied. “I’ll make you dinner.”
“And after dessert I get my punishment?” I asked.
“You can be dessert.” Jonathan replied.
I was too aroused to reply much more. “See you Monday then.”
“See you. Sleep tight.” Jonathan replied.