When I enter the room, she's standing in a corner. Why she's being punished, I don't know. But I'm glad she is. Black corset, black stockings. Skin as pale as the moon on snow. A cherry red ball gag against cherry red lips. Blonde curls.
Jake calls me at work one afternoon with a delicious new surprise.
"I'm wearing your panties," he says, "the ones you left here. I've been wearing them all day." A shiver shoots down my body, landing squarely in my pussy. I swivel my office chair around so no one can see me.
You enter me first, your hand trembles as you guide your cock into me. You've been waiting for this moment for so long, long enough that you still can't believe it's real. Will I feel the weight of him as he slides his cock into your ass? He pushes into you easily, I feel the tremor deep inside of me.
I'm weak, still sticky and exhausted from the marathon sex session we just had. Nick asks if I feel like going out to get something to eat. I tell him I'd definitely need a shower first. Just the thought of getting up makes me tired.
I've been waiting. I lean back against the stack of pillows, the light from my cell phone throws odd shadows against the wall.
You tell me you miss me. I miss you too, even though it's only been hours. By now, you're on the other side of the state, too far away to turn around and fuck me one last time. I still catch the scent of you, on my pillows, my shirt, I will for days.
Gently, I take his glasses and place them on the windowsill. He leans back into the mound of pillows, tucking the purple one under his neck. I sling my leg around and straddle his face, palms against the wall to keep my balance.
He's strung me along for years and I fall for it every time. Sometimes it's a day before he calls again, sometimes it's months. But when he does, I'm here, like always, an obedient, lovesick puppy.
"Strawberry or vanilla?" Mister asks from the doorway, holding a small carton of ice cream in each hand. "Never vanilla," coos Anya.
Some glitch has left the digital display on the microwave permanently dimmed, so the only way to read it is to get up close. We're getting ready to make dinner. He's standing behind me, looking at the contents of the cupboard.
It's hot, one of those sticky, sweaty days you dream about in the dead of winter. We're flopped on the couch, watching movies, but even following the plot seems like too much effort.
"If it weren't so damn hot, I'd wanna fuck," Nick says, tilting the fan to blow across our faces.
"Me too, I answer, "But ugggggh." I get up to refresh our drinks.
I look at Shane incredulously. He nods enthusiastically, his eyes bright and eager. I always try to be a good sport about trying new things, but this one throws me. I say that I'll think about it and get back to him.
Blood lust boils to the surface, emerges as you pin my shoulders to the bed. All cruel things, all dark intents are given fresh life in your eyes. Channeled down from your brain to your hands to my body, your thoughts become my reality.
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