The steam lingered in the air as I wrapped my wet body in the warm, plush towel. I was wrapping my hair when I heard the knob turn and the door open. My breath caught in my throat at the sight of him. Nothing but boxer briefs and a cup of tea. "Good morning. Enjoy your shower..." he asked as if it were more of a command than a question, and it required no answer. He placed the cup on the counter with one hand and undid my towel with other. I could immediately feel the throbbing between my legs and knew that the wetness would soon be running from my freshly shaved, clean pussy.
He put one arm around my waist and pulled me to him. I could feel that he was already getting hard. With his free hand, he grabbed my breast and twisted my nipple, harder than I anticipated. When I gasped he kissed me, hard, urgent.
His hand drifted down my body to my pleading pussy, ever so gently, he rubbed it. "Good girl, you shaved." And then he kissed my forehead and walked away, leaving me in a terrible state of wanting more, knowing it would not come until he wanted it.
As I dressed and did my hair and makeup that morning, preparing for work as best I could manage, I knew I would be distracted all day and pre-occupied with thoughts of him that I would be unable to shake. As I headed for the door, the phone rang. I looked and saw it was him... do I answer? Let it go to voicemail? He would be angry if I allowed him to go to voicemail. There would be repercussions.
"Yes, sir?"
"What were you doing? It rang three times, Soumis." He was irritated. This would not be good. Damn, I am going to be late for work, again.
"Yes, sir. I apologize, I was just finishing getting ready for work and headed out the door... what can I do for you, Master?"
"Tell me what you are wearing and while you do, touch yourself... and do not skip a single item..."
I put the phone on speaker and gently laid it upon the table in the foyer, hoping if I were quick about it, I could still run out the door and make it just on time. I touched the pearl necklace he had given me the night before, fingering several of the precious beads before removing it and telling him I was wearing it, keeping one hand on my throat. I laid it on the table next to the phone. Next, I described my lavender silk crepe blouse, quickly unbuttoning it, removing it and draping it over the newell post so as not to wrinkle it, gently tracing the outline of the matching bra, just along the décolletage. Glancing at my watch, I realized I was definitely going to be late for work... removed the watch and began to describe the skirt I was wearing - "NO! Stop, Soumis. What did you just remove?" Damn...
"The watch, sir. I'm sorry, it won't happen again... "
