Knock Knock
Twelve noon, he was right on time. Filled with nervous anticipation, she opened the door. A smile spread across her lips as he stood in the doorway. Opening the door wide, she stepped aside so that he could enter. âPlease come in Sir,â she whispered softly, her voice suddenly failing her.
That grin she knew so well riding on his lips, he stepped into the living room as she closed the door behind him. He walked over to the couch and sat down, giving her the look she knew so well, even after 4 years. With only a momentâs hesitation she moved across the room and stood before him. She had agonized for what must have seemed like hours over what to wear for his visit, and had finally decided on the short denim skirt and black tank top, as the weather was unusually warm for the end of March. Now she watched his face as he looked her over. Still he did not speak.
âWould you like anything to drink?â she asked, as much to fill the silence as to see to his thirst, should he have one. As she awaited his answer, she remembered his very first visit to her, when sheâd brought him a drink and knelt before him, head slightly lowered, lifting the glass up to him. She wondered if he was remembering that moment as well.
âYes little one,â he replied, and she shivered just the slightest at the name. âA glass of ice water will be fine for now.â
Smiling, she nodded softly, whispered âcoming right upâ and turned to walk into the kitchen, her hips swaying naturally within the snug fitting skirt. As she returned with his glass of water, an overwhelming urge took hold of her and the next thing she knew she was kneeling at his feet once more, knees spread as wide as the skirt would allow, lifting the glass to her lips to place a soft kiss of affection to the rim and then offering the water to him, her pulse skipping beats all the while. She couldnât speak past the lump in her throat.
He gazed upon her for a few moments, remember the first time sheâd been in such a position before him, and he smiled. Taking the glass and drinking from it before placing it aside, he then leaned forward and brushed his fingertips against her cheek. This time he felt as well as saw the shiver that danced through her. She had always been so responsive to his slightest touch, and it seems that as well had not changed.
âHow long are we alone little one?â he asked her in that quiet tone of voice that always made her insides quiver.
âMy roommates wonât be home until the evening Sir, around 5pm or so.â
âGood slut, those five hours will be well used.â He grinned, that soft laughter escaping. âNow tell me, have you followed my instructions?â
Her unbound curls bounced on her shoulders as she nodded her head. âYes sir, Iâve not given myself an orgasm once this past week.â