My First Top

He was a hairy hippie guy. I messaged him on my favorite online dating site and we had struck up a conversation quickly. He brought up the movie Secretary fairly quickly and having never seen it, I had no idea what he was referencing. We met up for a couple of hours between my classes and walked around Berkeley talking about random shit. He brought back up Secretary and explained the reference this time. He went on to voice his frustration of the San Fransisco Community. He had created a group that was anarchist kinky people that had since fizzled out. I was instantly intrigued. He was my type, big bear hippy and into stuff I had only dreamed about. My mistress has since told me that even years before I had come into the scene officially, I exuded kinkiness. Much like a closeted queer person can be sniffed out with the right gaydar. I was spotted by her years earlier after a dyke march and now by him. He dropped me back off at class after a date at his place later that week.
I got to his place and got a shaky back message. I could feel he was restraining something and it scared and excited me to no end. We talked about spankings and other off handed stuff. This was my first negotiation. On a quick drive we went through where our kinks came from. Why I always wanted to submit and why he wanted to dominate. We had shared pasts in some dramatic ways. I learned more about where he grew up and what brought him to California.
He finally played with me. First he stood me up and grasped me in his way, making it clear that I was safe and that he was in control. He would do this every time we played, once before and once after, and even though I was right at chest level I never heard his heart beat fasten. It was always steady and in control, much like he was. He sat back down and had me lay over his knee. Ass in the perfect place for his right hand. He gave me the best spanking. Rhythmic and even. Heavy but still with some surprises. He brought me to the pain orgasm I knew was possible, but had never experienced before. I slowly meandered down the mountain of my explosion. As I layed in his lap, I was held by one strong arm and caressed by the other. I hid my face, having had tears of the release form in my eyes. He ran his fingers over my now bright red bottom and let me swim in my own world.
I finally got up and he was tickled by my squirms of trying to find a less stingy way to sit. I got to my feet at last and took a big step down from the clouds over a cigarette. Before I left I was given a homework assignment. Research 'subspace' because I didn't formally know about it, but knew the feeling. I left to go home in a dream.
That week every time I readjusted my jeans remembering his hand. Smiling to myself and going about my business, knowing there was only more to come.