July 12, 10 am.
I am alone. My roommates are out for the day, and I have the house to myself. I peck away at yogurt and eggs for breakfast, not feeling super hungry. I should be working on a drawing, my side project while I wait for classes to begin. Of late, though, procrastination seems to be my hobby of choice. I haven't gotten much done all week. Besides, today, my mind is elsewhere.
He has today off. For two busy people like us, coinciding free time is a gift not so easily wasted. We had wanted to make plans, but never got around to it. I fear I will miss another opportunity to see Him.
The quiet house allows me a lot of time to let my mind drift. And drift it does...to his strong hands, his sultry voice, his thick cock...
I send Him a good morning text. It is early - He might be asleep still, or at the gym, so I don't know if I will get an answer. I let him know that I am alone, anyhow. I open the Internet on my phone, type in my favourite erotic literature website, and curl up with some steamy tales to pass the time.
Page by page goes by, a lusty tale of bondage and discipline, in which I am fully enthralled. My heart is fluttering, my cheeks blushing hot pink, a faint throbbing between my legs. That lucky submissive, at the mercy of her Dom's experience, being whipped, restrained, used, and finally rewarded. The thought makes me swoon. My hand dips between my legs with the thought of that final release of tension after so much play and exertion.
The only thing that snaps me out of this whirlwind of emotion is the violent vibration of my phone itself. I have a text, but not from just anyone. He says that He is just getting into the shower after his workout. Another successive message assures me that He was coming. 30 minutes.
I kick myself into action immediately. I change from sweats into black lace underwear, short sleep shorts and a cotton tank top, put on some subtle makeup, and tie my bed head curls into order, all to the sound of my ever faster pulse ringing in my ears. I am hot and tingling with anticipation, which sounds cliché, but is completely true. I catch a glance at myself in a mirror, and laugh at how my image communicates this sentiment. My nipples press stiffly through the cotton top, and my face is flushed and rosy. I look like I need to be fucked, and let me tell you, I do.
What a blessing it is, then, to hear His vehicle roll into the driveway. It is all I can do to be patient, and not run out to embrace Him in the yard, skimpily dressed as I was. I pace in front of the door, and after too long of a wait, I open it to see His handsome figure coming up the steps. My Master is a few inches taller than me, and a great deal more muscular. His hair is very long, a trait I find completely irresistible and uniquely Him. His blue eyes show all the cleverness of a young man who devours information as a lion would devour his prey. Though knowledge isn't all He devours, by far, He is one of the smartest people I have ever met. Insatiable is a word I could use to describe many facets of the wonderful man in front of me, to whom I murmured a shy hello.
He grins, and I can tell that behind his sunglasses, He is enjoying my flustered little show, with it's obvious distractedness and barely-there attire. I am usually much more composed than this: for Him to see me in such a state is a definite sign of my desperation, my need of Him. I wind my arms around His neck and tug him inside the door. Pressing Him against the cool surface, I welcome Him with all the seductive power I possess. My lips whisper against His, gentle, inviting. I run a hand up His strong chest, down His exposed arms. He has cut the sleeves off another shirt, something I find extremely sexy. Going to the gym four times a week really pays off after a while. Delicious. I bite His bottom lip teasingly. I know He doesn't prefer the action, but it's fun to entice Him. Or, at least, to give Him reasons for payback. Bad of me, I know.
I can't get Him upstairs fast enough. I am already halfway up the flight before He has even stepped out of His shoes. It still feels like time is dragging on. I shoot Him a coy smile, and dart up the last few steps. I am sure He can see my ass from this angle, bouncing as I move under the skimpy shorts I have chosen.
He meets me at the landing, and our bodies connect to each other like magnets. Hands, lips, chest, hips all move together, unable to be everywhere at once. I kiss Him fiercely, desperate to be ever closer, to release the morning's pent-up passion. He kisses me back with equal enthusiasm, gently pushing me towards my bed. With a final shove, He throws me to the sheets, pinning my smaller frame easily with His strong arms. Our tongues intertwine fiercely, lovingly. I moan with desperation.
He breaks the embrace then, smiling at me. He pulls an item from a pocket - green, smooth, soft. My collar. I blush and smile too, leaning over for Him to fasten the adornment around my neck. A second of tightness, and it clicks into place. Perfect. He pulls on the loop, once more bringing my face up to meet His, softly pressing His lips to mine. God, I love this collar. God, I love this man. He tells me how sexy I look in it. All to please Him, I respond. He pulls another treat from His pocket: a leash. This is His, a Christmas present from me last year. Black, His favourite colour. He clips the clasp onto the ring, a sound I will never get enough of.
Instead of leading me anywhere, however, He pulls out one more toy from his pocket. A knife. He holds it for me to see flip open. My eyes widen: I have often fantasized about such objects, sharp and deliciously full of risk such as this, but we have never tried them before. He kneels over me, and I lay back on the bed. I feel the very sharp point of the blade up against the hollow of my throat, being drawn slowly down my chest. When He gets to the top of my shirt, I think He will stop and command me to remove it. But no: He tears right through the fabric with the blade, to my utter shock. A savage look sweeps over His features, somewhere between pleasure and hunger.
The knife then continues its course, up and down the middle of my chest, sternum to navel, stopping to circle the tender skin of my breasts. It casts a radius of sparks wherever it goes, little tingling sensations that I have never felt before. So sharp, I am worried that I won't be able to feel it pierce my skin noticeably. Dangerous.
But such a turn on.
It isn't until it left my skin that I notice the implements effect. My nipples are stiff, my mouth open in shock and awe. I have been moaning without really realizing it. Wow, Master is good.
I know it's time for my hips and legs to receive the same treatment. Turning over onto my knees, I coyly ask if I can at least keep my revealing little shorts, which He seems to like. A moment of consideration, and He looks back at me, that same hungry look in His eye. No, He says, and in one fell swoop, my shorts join my tank top in shreds on the floor. He then sees my black lace panties for the first time, and I know He will let me keep those. He enjoys them very much, how good they make my ass look.
He runs his hands over the soft skin, and tells me to take the panties off.
