Friday, February 9, 2007

Sex Slave & Mistress

She opened her eyes at 7:24am and looked at the clock. She hadn't set her alarm in years and took great pride in her ability to wake-up whenever she wanted without an alarm clock. Her ability to wake-up on command had only failed her once in her life, and that was on a day that she was hoping it would fail. She had probably willed it to fail just like she willed it to happen every other day.

The guy in the bed next to her was extremely handsome. Maybe not to everyone but to her. She was as enamored of the way he looked as he was with how she looked, and they often remarked on what a good looking couple they made. It was true. They made a handsome couple. Thick dark hair and similar faces to the point where several of her girlfriends had remarked in conversation that they looked more like siblings than lovers. She had thought it herself. Once, as he stood naked near the bathroom door she gazed at him and giggled and said "You look a lot like my brother. My hot brother that I like to fuck all the time." He liked her twisted sense of humor and shook his head and smiled and said "Thank you?"

He loved the way her hands felt on his body. Her hands were always soft, warm and firm, and her touch melted him and made him feel small, weak, helpless, safe and scared all at the same time. She was a morning person (he was not). She would wake him up with a soft touch or a kiss. Then she'd restrain his arms and legs and fuck him like a toy, or sit on him while he looked up at her lost and confused (jerking off). He had trouble thinking in her presence.

They had different work schedules and she had a busy social life and belonged to several organizations, which meant he often found himself home alone for several hours of every day. While she was at work in her business suits and taking meetings, he'd lay in bed jerking off, thinking about her and performing tasks and chores for her. He'd clean the shower or vacuum the floors, organize her shoes, walk her dog, wash the dishes and cook dinner (often wearing a pair of red velvet panties that smelled like her and a dog collar with his name on the tag that she ordered from an on-line pet supply store).

This was their life.

1 comment:

maymay said...

Her hands were always soft, warm and firm, and her touch melted him and made him feel small, weak, helpless, safe and scared all at the same time.

This is a great description, and so true. This entire post is lovely. :)