Currently, you can say my stress level is at its capacity. Single mom of two teenagers and a preteen, small business owner and balancer of every small task you can think of. I co-parent with my ex-husband just fine and overall, the stress isn't the bad kind but between running a business and running everyone around to their extracurriculars I really needed a specific type of relief. Being in charge all the time is exhausting.
I've been on some pretty pleasant dates and was even seeing someone for a few months but my body was aching for a different kind of attention. Something I couldn't find while dating and also somewhat nervous to ask for. After researching the adult corner of the internet I managed to find exactly what and who was going to take care of my needs...
I started paying him visits once a week for the past two months. It's become somewhat of an addiction and if I wasn't so busy with everything else in my life I might've found myself crawling to him every night.
So here I am on a Wednesday at 9PM, standing outside a very unsuspecting beautiful Victorian home in the historical housing district. It has old world charm but also a few modern touches due to a remodel done years ago. It stands two stories high, painted a stormy gray with big bay windows that have thick forest green curtains concealing its secrets inside. As I reach for the brass knocker on the tall arched door my body starts to get that familiar tingle.
After two knocks I start to hear the gentle tap of his dress shoes slowly draw nearer to the door. The turn of the lock is enough to send ripples down to my more sensitive areas. Seven days is too long of a stretch. The door opens and the smell of pine, leather and campfire caresses me. He smiles and tells me to come in. My nipples rise against the lace of my bra. I hold my composure the best I can but I gaze at him a few seconds longer than intended. I can tell he makes note of it. My little pink pearl starts to pulse as I think about being punished for that later.
He's usually wearing what I think to be his day work clothes at the beginning of our meeting. Oxford dress shoes- tonight they're brown- and perfectly tailored dark gray slacks with a brown leather belt. The white dress shirt he has on has two undone buttons and is still nicely pressed even though small parts give away that he's been wearing it all day. You can tell he works out but also doesn't overdo it. He's handsome but not in a conventional way. The volume in his hair makes his unruly waves almost too big for his head and I often want to run my hands through them. He's allowed me that once. His beard is trimmed to the perfect length and other parts of him are the perfect length as well.
I see a drink is already in his hand as we walk back to the parlor. It looks like scotch tonight which means he might go a little lighter on my physical torment. I don't mind this time, I actually could use a little tenderness tonight. When we reach the parlor I anxiously sit myself on the edge of a dark blue velvet armchair while he prepares me a vodka soda. When he's done he hands it to me and I slurp it down embarrassingly fast. A slight chuckle comes from him and then he tells me to go upstairs to get ready. As I stand up my body clenches as I feel my wetness start to cascade out of me.
I walk up the wide staircase to the room I find to be a sacred temple. I open the door and it's the same as we left it last week. It's not a big room. The wooden four poster bed is to the right of me against a wall with two tall windows on either side. At the foot of the bed is a leather bench and in the wall facing it is a fireplace with low burning flames. Besides the night stands on the sides of the bed, with lamps on each, there's not much else in the room. Except for what he keeps in the small closet.
I have just the clothes I came in with and my keys. I take off my shoes, quickly unbutton my silk blouse and unzip my pants, stripping them off, leaving my bra and gstring. I fold my clothes and set my things underneath the bench. I proceed to kneel on the soft fur rug that's to the side of the bed closest to the door. I wait anxiously with my back facing the door. The intentional delay is agonizing and I desperately want to start touching myself but I behave and wait the ten minutes for him to enter the room.
Finally the door opens gently and my body breaks out in goosebumps. I feel the cool air from the hallway flow in with him and I take in a deep breath as he turns to close the door. He walks past me and towards the small closet and I watch mesmerized by this firm ass in his black boxers. His shirtless body allows me to see the small movements of the muscles in his back and shoulders making my face flush with heat. In the closet lives a narrow dresser that houses toys and pleasure tools that'll make any WASP mom clutch her pearls. As he is skimming around for whatever he's going to use on or in me I imprint the image of his backside in my mind before I'm no longer allowed to watch. He picks something up and I hear the clink of metal. As he starts to turn around I avert my eyes to the floor.
"Put your hands behind your back" he commands in a low tone. His voice is deep and firm but never loud or unnecessarily aggressive. Except when he's cumming inside me.
I happily obey.
He makes his way behind me and snaps the contraption around my wrists. I flinch at the coldness and bite of what I realize are handcuffs. They're heavy, the real deal. He grabs a fistful of hair and pulls my head back.
"I didn't say you could move," he whispers softly into my ear. I just blink in return.
My nipples are so stiff at this point I thought they'd rip through the lace of my bra. He noticed them too. He always notices every small detail.
After the cuffs are on nice and tight he walks in front of me. I can see that he was starting to swell in his boxers. I wanted to rip them off to cover his cock with my mouth so badly. He saw the pleading in my eyes but kneeled down with me instead.
