A Day in the Life

My watch alarm goes off on the bedside table, and I halfheartedly glance over. It's the very same alarm that woke me up the very first time I fucked my master, before he was my master. Sometimes when I look at it in the early morning, it takes me back to that camp in southern Ohio, 3:55 a.m., shaking off my nerves as I went to go meet Cole.

But that's not quite the situation anymore. The watch tells me it's time to perform my own duty as an alarm clock, and I silence it and pull the covers away from my master lying next to me.

It's chilly, and he grumbles, but softens when I start massaging his balls over his boxers. I smile up at him and plant a small kiss, on his lower stomach where the hair begins- I love that spot.

I pull his boxers further down around his knees, and start stroking his cock gently. His eyes still don't open, and I knead the tip between my fingers as I lift it up and put his balls in my mouth, one by one, sucking gently, not much pressure- it's still early.

I keep massaging his balls as my mouth returns to his dick. I wrap my mouth around just the head, and let my tongue play with the tip, glancing up at him. His eyes are open now, and watching me. He raises an eyebrow and I respond by quickly taking his cock in my mouth. For my first stroke I only get about halfway down, but by my next my nose is brushing the hair above his dick. I look to my master for approval, but he's wordless. I take his cock out of my mouth, and put my hand just around the head, trying to copy the way I've seen him jerk off, my fingers wrapped around the tip, my thumb closer to his stomach than my pinkie.

Now he grins, not because it's any more stimulating, but because he knows I'm applying what I've noticed. He pats the bed next to his hips, and I move so I'm sitting on my knees next to him, my thighs opened toward him, but still stroking that cock. He puts one hand down beneath me, and I lower myself so I'm almost sitting on his hand. His finger makes circles inside me, and before long i'm soaking his hand and trying not to moan, while still playing with his dick. I bend over to suck it again, and he slaps my ass once before fingering my tight pussy again from behind, his thumb playing around my ass.

My mouth speeds up, and I feel Master tense, but he pushes me off and makes me stop before I can make him cum into my throat. He gets up, cock in his hand, and saunters to the shower, motioning at me to follow. I grin and hurry after him.

Once again, I'm filled with fantasies of the first time with my master, in a cold empty public shower, making immense effort not to scream his name.

I flash back to the present, and my attention returns to my master before me again, now older, now wiser, and every bit as gorgeous as he always has been.

I rub a bit of soap between my hands, and start rubbing it over him. He tips his head back and closes his eyes as I massage his arms, chest, abs, and just slightly down below his waist. He turns around and I do the same with his back, and make one playful tap on his ass. Master's in a good enough mood to let that go, but still shoots me a look that says to just watch myself.

I'm in an even better mood, and grin as I finish washing him off, and step back.

I take a moment to admire my master. He's naturally tan, and tall. When we were teenagers I thought of him as long and lean, but he's filled out beautifully since then (A very lickable chest, I used to tell my friends). He's got dark feathery hair that I love running my fingers through, and striking bluish-grayish eyes.

Normally, he waits in the shower for me to wash off, and I towel him off. But today he opens the curtain and steps out, wraps a towel around his waist, and leans against the sink, watching me. Some days he does this, and sometimes he paces, almost in a predatory way, and I feel like a deer being stalked by a hunter.

Not today, though, today he leans back in that lounging manner he has, and waves a hand for me to proceed.

Now I'm hyperaware of him watching me, and I blush a little as I rub bubbles into my own skin, lightly running my hands over the few curves I have, watching him watch me. I rinse the last of it off and step out, grabbing my own towel and drying off, not breaking eye contact with my master. He gives me no instructions, so I continue about my routine, and sidle next to him in front of the sink, brushing the tangles out of my hair in the mirror.

He watches me for a second longer, and gets that classic Cole smirk on his face, the one that's been able to instill fear, anticipation and arousal in me for years now. He comes up behind me, his towel on the floor. My master strokes gently down my side to my hip, and kisses one side of my neck, followed by a nip, then a more insistent bite. I say nothing, and do nothing but sink into him. His hard cock presses into my ass, and one of his hands runs up my back to the back of my neck.

He pushes down on it, and bends me over the sink. I brace with my hands on the counter, and he slips a finger inside me, just testing my wetness. He takes it out and inserts his cock, so deep his hips are touching my ass. He gets all up in my ear again, and asks the classic, "What's inside you right now?" As he says it, he pulls out and begins to push in again, and all I can get out is a moan. He pinches the soft skin on the side of my breast, and says more insistently, "I asked you a question."

"You, Master, you're inside me, your big cock is filling up my pussy right now." I gasp, and he begins fucking me faster, quick strokes but still plenty deep, penetrating the beginning of my cervix.

I arch my back and push my ass into him, and he reaches around and puts a hand around my neck, just under my chin. He pulls my head up, so I'm looking into the mirror.

"Look at me," he whispers, still very much a command despite his quietness. I find his eyes in the mirror and blush again, resisting the urge to look away. "Watch me fuck you like the little slut you are." "Slut" and "whore" aren't really abusive terms with us- it's when he calls me his bitch that I know I'm in for it.

I watch him in the mirror, and even I can't deny how much wetter I'm becoming.

As I start moaning louder, my orgasm building, he pulls me back, so I'm no longer bent over the sink, but more leaning back against him, his cock still buried deep inside me, one of his tan hands wrapped around my throat, and the other trails down my stomach to my clit. He starts rubbing quickly over it, and my pussy trembles around his cock.

I've closed my eyes in rapture, but he gives me a sharp slap on my thigh. "I told you to look at me," he commands again. As soon as I meet his eyes again, my legs start shaking, and wave after wave wracks my body as I cum on his dick, screaming a flurry of "Cole"s and "Master"s and "Thank you"s.

He pulls me off him, and points to the floor. I get on my knees quickly- I've no idea how I've had an orgasm before ensuring Master's release first.

His cock is in his hand, and I move to take it into my mouth, but he shakes his head and lifts it up. I nod and take Master's balls into my mouth, sucking them softly at first, then with more pressure. He jerks his own cock over my face, and speeds up when I increase pressure. His dick's wet from my own cum, and soon he pulls me from his balls by my hair, but doesn't allow my mouth to cover the tip of his cock. Instead, his cum spills everywhere, over my face, my chest, and into my waiting mouth.

I thank him once, and then again as he tosses me a wet washcloth. I wash my juices from his cock (I would clean them off with my mouth but I wasn't given express permission) and then his cum from my own face and body.

He saunters back into the bedroom, and I follow silently. I sit on my knees on the bed and he tosses me a matching lacy white bra and thong, followed by a tight t-shirt and thin excuses for leggings. I look at him quizzically- I never wear clothes, or even usually underwear, inside. This must mean we're actually going somewhere today.

I don't ask questions, just slip into the clothes he's thrown me. I check in the mirror- I was right about the leggings. With the right angle of light, you could see clear through to my skimpy underwear and almost bare ass.

Cole's smirk said that he'd noticed, too. He looked up quickly and announced, "On second thought, you can take those panties off, I don't see why you need them."

I resisted the urge to sigh, but I couldn't deny my arousal. We were definitely going somewhere, and Master wanted his little whore on full display.

After following instructions and removing my underwear (and glowing at his comment about how I was a good little girl) I threw on shoes and followed him out to his truck, taking another moment to admire him after sliding into the shotgun seat. While my master is plenty attractive naked, he looks just as amazing in jeans and a t-shirt. I almost couldn't contain myself; I got so ballsy I stole his ball cap and pulled it down over my eyes, laughing. He was in a playful enough mood that I could pull this off, but when I leaned across the console to kiss on his neck, he chuckled a little and made me stop. "Not yet, you can wait," he said, and I slumped back into my seat, slightly miffed but still excited.

I didn't really pay attention to where we were driving- I never do. Before too long Master pulled up into the parking lot of a lingerie shop outside of town, and had me follow him inside.

I was instructed to wait back in a fitting room with three mirrors at different angles and a small bench in a corner. Before long, I heard a knock on the door and saw Cole's Nikes under it. I opened it and backed up as he walked in, various articles piled in his arms, and sat on the bench. "Still dressed?" He asked, one eyebrow cocked.

I said nothing and stripped immediately, once again hyperaware of him watching me, and of how I looked in those three mirrors. Over the next hour, I tried on endless corsets, teddies, g-strings, and garters, all with varying degrees of Master's vocal approval. Once through the pile, I paused after removing the last garment and looked back to him.

"Which one's your favorite?" He asked. I almost stuttered out an answer. "What does it matter, master? My favorite is the one that pleased you the most."

He shook his head. "No, tell me which one you liked best."

I took a breath and dug through the pile to find a siren red chemise. The neckline plunged and the hem just barely covered my pussy from view in the front. My ass was definitely about half on display, and the cups covering my breasts were see-through black lace, matching the thigh-high stockings that went with it.

Master touched his chin a little before saying, "I'm not too sure... I think I need to see you walk in it."

I took a few steps back and forth in the fitting room, and he shook his head. "Nope," he chuckled. "You know what I want." And with that he opened the door, and pointed to each end of the aisle. I cringed but stepped outside, and he leaned against the doorway and watched me walk. My face was on fire as the fitting room attendant just chuckled as if she had seen it before, and after my obedient lap I returned to Cole, still standing in the doorway. His eyes swept up and down, and I got that smirk. "You're right," he murmured, "that's a very good choice." And with that he grabbed me by my waist and pulled me in the door, and just as quickly pushed me up against it. My legs almost immediately wrapped around him, and he was grinding on my pussy until I was whimpering for his cock. One of his hands covered my mouth, the other supporting my back. "Quiet, slut. Wouldn't want anyone else to know how hard I'm about to fuck you, would you?"

My eyes almost rolled back in my head as he pulled his cock out of his pants, already hard. He held me by my ass against the door and pushed into me, covering my mouth with his, grinding his hips in a circle with his dick inside me. I moaned through the kiss and ground on him, harder, faster, an orgasm already building, and when he bit my lip I began to cum on his dick, my screams muffled as I buried my face in his chest.

Cole grinned, very satisfied with himself, and zipped back up. I put my own clothes back on, and hopelessly tried to fix my hair before following him out.

We got to the counter, and Master pulled out a check to pay. I noticed the date as he wrote it-August 16th. He caught my glance and grinned. "Didn't think I'd forget, did you?"

We walked out and he handed me the bag with a "Happy birthday." I grinned and, once in the truck, started murmuring my thanks and kissing on his neck again. He pulled out of the parking lot, and as he accelerated, trying to make some noise out of that damn four-speed, I kissed lower, over his shirt, down his chest and abs to his belt. I glanced up at him quickly; he had one hand on the wheel and the other across my back, now. I gave his belt buckle a kiss, and moved lower, just moving my lips over the bulge in his jeans.

When he didn't stop me, I unbuckled the belt and unzipped his jeans. My master's cock popped out, and I started sucking it harder, hearing the truck accelerate as I did so-my master loves road head.

Once again, I was interrupted and had to stop as we pulled into a driveway. I'd been here before- this was a house, that of one of my master's friends. It was the night of one of his poker games, and this was one of the times I'd gotten to come along. I started to let myself out of the truck when Cole laughed. "Where do you think you're going like that?"

I looked back at him quizzically, then realized what he wanted as he pointed at the paper bag in my hands. I wiggled out of my clothes once more, and slipped into the little red dress and some black pumps Cole pulled out of the backseat (he'd been much too prepared for this). With a glance at Master for approval, answered by a nod, I slipped out of the truck, and walked with him to the door. He didn't knock, rather let us in himself, and I turned about as red as Cole's truck when I saw the guys already at the table, who all turned to greet Cole and stopped to stare at me. None of them said a word; they all respected him about as much as I did.

That is, until one of them, someone new, recognized us.

"Cole?" Was followed by a "ZOE?!" From a blond boy, perhaps a year or two younger than Master and I. I couldn't place him in my head, and when I did I said nothing, just felt my face set itself on fire.

"Shawn, hey buddy, how ya doing?" Cole asked, shaking his hand like they'd known each other for, well, for years.

Here, new at the table, was another counselor who'd been at that camp so long ago, where I'd first met my master. He'd had a bit of a crush on me then, and teenage Cole had possibly somewhat enjoyed teasing him with me. It was clear to see that nothing had changed.

Master, of course, acted like nothing was unusual and strolled to his usual place at the table, and pointed to the space on the floor next to him for me. I knelt on the floor and sat back on my heels, one hand absentmindedly on my master's leg as he played.

They played many games that night, but most of my time was spent by my master's feet. On occasion, he'd instruct me to bring him another drink, which wasn't atypical. What was, however, was when Master noticed Shawn's empty glass and told me casually to refill his, too. This was unexpected- Master liked to make it clear that I was HIS whore. After an instant of hesitation, I got to my feet and leaned across Shawn to grab his glass; I could feel him staring through the lace at one of my hard nipples, and I blushed again as I had to turn my half-bare ass to him and walk away.

I poured another glass of Maker's Mark and returned to the table, never meeting his eyes as I placed it in front of him and returned to my place by Master.

The rest of the game passed without event, and as the last winnings were collected, my master spoke up to the host. "I've had a few too many drinks to drive home, would you mind lending an extra bedroom?"

Master's friend shrugged. From what I know, he was a bachelor and had a pretty large house to himself. "Upstairs to the left," he chuckled, with a small roll of his eyes. He didn't expect Cole (or me) to get much sleep tonight.

Master started up the stairs, with me quickly behind. At the base he turned and looked at Shawn, who was still sitting at the table. "Yo, you coming?" He asked, and my eyes got wide as Shawn (who looked just as surprised) got up from his chair and followed us up the stairs.

We all filed into the guest bedroom, simply furnished, a bed, a bedside table, and an armchair. While my head was running wild, I didn't dare question my master.

At his direction, I returned downstairs to get two more glasses of bourbon, my ears burning to know what was being said in that room upstairs. I returned as quickly as I could on four-inch heels, and handed Master his glass first. As I went to hand Shawn his, my master reached a foot out in front of me. You can imagine my ability on heels, and as I tripped, I almost fell on top of Shawn, instead spilling his glass, mostly on the floor and a few drops on his jeans. I bit back a swear word, that was going to cost me. I turned to look at Master with my eyes down, waiting to hear my punishment. He smirked, that smirk a bit more on the devil's end of the spectrum, and leaned back against the footboard of the bed.

"Clean that up, slut." He said, not malicious yet, just stern, and still very self-amused.

I looked around for a washcloth, but he stopped me quickly. "With your mouth."

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes to the heavens and got on all fours, my near-bare ass in the air, pussy on full display, trying to lick some of that damn bourbon from the carpet.

Shawn circled behind me, enjoying the view, and sat and leaned back in the armchair. I sat back on my heels and looked back up at my Master, who appeared to also be enjoying the show he was putting on for himself. "You missed a spot," he said, pointing with his glass to the stains on Shawn's jeans. I looked up sharply at him to ensure I'd understood what he was asking me to do. He nodded sharply, as if to say, "What are you waiting for?"

I moved on my knees to in front of the armchair, and Shawn spread his legs out. I took a moment to glance up and down him- time had treated him fairly well, but all I could see was the awkward sweetheart I'd met as a teenager. My lips moved over the first, lowest spot, on the inside of his thigh near his knee. I licked at his jeans and sucked a little- I could still taste the bourbon. I knew I wouldn't get it out, but I also knew Master didn't really care about it. I moved up to the next spot, closer to his dick, picking my ass up off my heels to lean farther forward.

As I did so I felt a crack across my ass-Master's hand. I tried to ignore it as he kept spanking me, starting to get harder, starting to get faster. When he began he allowed enough time between each smack for the pain to subside, and it was all on my upper ass. He began to move faster, and lower, slapping quickly and alternating between the left and right on the fleshy underside of my ass. I buried my face into Shawn's leg, my face inching upward with each smack, just trying to muffle my own whines. I got up to his crotch, my mouth open and muffling my screams with the bulge in his pants. I rubbed my mouth over it, feeling him get harder underneath me, hoping this is what Master wanted. Soon, he stopped spanking, and I heard him unzip and felt him get behind me. He pressed the tip of his dick to my ass, and laughed when he felt every muscle in my body tense up. He moved instead to my pussy, which was unsurprisingly wet. Shawn took the hint and brought his own dick out, and soon filled my mouth with it. He held my hair back into a ponytail and helped me get all of his length into my mouth (not much trouble when I was used to my master's cock) as Master fucked me from behind, driving in quickly and deep and drawing out slowly, and talking all the while. "Do you feel that, whore? What's inside you?"